"Keep up, Nicholas."

A fox with dark red fur that mingled with gray in some areas, walked smoothly along the sidewalks of Zootopia. He was wearing a dark gray business suit that fit his figure well and accented the color of his hide. The fox walked with purpose, sauntering his way through the city that had been designed as a utopia for animals of all kinds. However, Zootopia was far from utopian, and the fox thought of this as he stretched his neck slightly, feeling the heavy shock collar that rested there.

Growing up, the fox hadn't had the most ideal situation, and hadn't gone to the best schools or received the best education, but he was smart and cunning, and he knew that Zootopia was divided in two: predator and prey, with the predators getting the short end of the stick. It saddened and aggravated the fox at how discriminated predators were after prey had chosen to let the predators' biological past define them. It was far from fair, and the metal shock collar that was locked around the fox's throat only further proved that.

Throwing a glance over his shoulder, the fox caught sight of a younger fox, who was the spitting image of him. The younger fox was struggling to keep up, still too small for the real world. His fur was just a few shades lighter than the older fox, his throat still free of the horror to come. The fox looked at his son over his shoulder and smiled affectionately.

"Nicholas, hurry up now."

"Yes, Father," the little fox, Nicholas, replied eagerly. "Where are we going, Father?"

"I have a surprise for you."

"What kind of surprise?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, now would it?"

The fox heard Nicholas grumble under his breath.

"We're almost there, Son," the fox chuckled lightly. "Just be patient now."

The father and son walked for about ten more minutes, approximately three more blocks down the Main Street of Zootopia, before turning onto a somewhat rundown road that was full of abandoned houses and shops. The two walked in silence until they had passed four or five abandoned buildings on the street.

"Here we are!" the fox announced, triumphant, as he gestured at one building in particular.

It was an abandoned shop that looked to have once been a tailor's. The tailoring shop looked as if it had been sitting in solitude for many years; the bricks that had built it were gray and chipping slightly, and the windows were thick with years of dust. The little fox turned is head to the side, wondering what his father was so excited about.

"Er, what is it, Father?"

The father jumped up onto the porch of the shop, inspecting the front door.

"This is going to be our legacy, Son!"

The little fox followed the father up onto the porch, watching him gesture at everything as he talked on.

"Imagine it, Boy! We'll be rich! We'll buy a mansion with all of the money we'll make here! With your mother's sewing skills, my business skills, and your help, we'll be a success!"

The father looked up at the square window that was half of the front door. The word "Tailoring" was stained green into the glass, which was filthy from years of being ignored. Smiling at his son, the fox wrote "Wilde + Son" in the dust underneath the stained word. The fox sighed in complete bliss.

"We make the pitch for the loan tomorrow, and then the work begins. What do you think, Nicholas?"

"How are we going to fix it up?"

"Oh, we'll figure something out, but tell me, Boy, what do you think?"

"I love it, Father!" the little fox replied, a grin spreading across his face.

"That a boy!" the fox laughed as he swept his son up into his arms, placing him over his shoulders.

"What will I do, Father?" the boy began chattering excitedly. "Will I be able to help sew? Can I help the customers?"

The father laughed, feeling the collar around his neck twinge slightly as his emotional levels rose. His face fell slightly at the thought of the collar going off in front of his son. The function of the collar had been explained to Nicholas in school due to the fact that he would be turning eight soon, the required age to be collared, but the father had made sure to never allow Nicholas see him be shocked. The fox hated the collar, hated that he couldn't experience real emotions without being brutally punished for it, hated that he couldn't laugh and cheer with his son in this moment without being stunned with electricity. Being wary of the collar's threat to shock him, the father replied smoothly.

"You'll be able to help as much as you want. We just have to go and get the loan first, but we will, I just know it."

"Oh, Father, I'm so excited!" the little fox giggled as he flailed his paws around in joy.

"Careful, Nick, don't get too excited now."

"Yes, sorry."

Nicholas took a deep breath and calmed himself, just as his mother had taught him. It had been pertinent lately to ensure that once Nicholas was given a collar, he would be able to manage it. Once again, the father's face turned grim at the thought of his son being shocked, but it was inevitable, and required for all predators.

"It's quite alright. Now, let's go home and see your mother."