Zootopia-Fans

Dropping her phone back onto the table after a brief call, she picks up her champaign flute and tosses off the last of the mimosa, irritated that it is empty. Hoisting the glass high she waggles it to catch the attention of the cougar behind the counter who just nods in response. Setting the flute down and looking back down to her laptop, she tries futilely to reread what she had written earlier, but the distraction of those freaks at the other end of the diner derails her mind. It’s bad enough for the rabbit to think that he should be with a lynx, but she doesn’t know if it’s worse that said lynx WANTS it to be with her. Unbelievable. It has become a sick sad world. They have got to be freaks from down south, the only reason they could think that kind of crap is acceptable. No one around here would attempt that. Prey know their places. ‘They will get their comeuppance when my soon to be mate gets here, he will set things right. The indecency of it all. . .’ she snarls silently

Jessica 15 Light shines in through a crack in the curtains, and a perfect beam of sunlight shines right onto Mark’s face. The redness seeping through the eyelid is enough to awaken and make him stir. Yawning, stretching, the weight of his mate using his chest as a pillow makes it difficult to do so. Jessica growls in protest. Glancing at the clock shows it is just before seven. “We are on vacation,” she sleepily mumbles, “stop moving.” With his feline pinning him down, at least that is the excuse he is going with, Mark continues to lie there, dozing in and out until a light rap at the door snaps him back to full consciousness. This is the slow knock and not the urgent pounding of the Mounties from last night. A quick glance shows eight-thirty. “Room service,” comes the soft muffled drawl of a male voice through the door. “Just a minute!” Mark hollers. With significant effort, scooting himself out from under Jess who groans but does not open her eyes or admit consciousness.