The nurse looked at him kindly, face twisted in a way that told him she was trying to be kind, long tail dusting the sterile floor.

He hated hospitals. Always had. He hated this place more. It sent a cold tingle down his spine and made something deep inside shout at him to flee.

Some of it was likely why he was here. Who he was here for. She’d taken the shot for him, after all. Might have saved them both doing it. Him from something he could never forgive himself for, and her from death.

Yet it still felt like sacrifice.

“Is she like the others were?” She’d been curled up, terrified and begging him to restrain her when the paramedics took her away. When he’d touched her, she’d flinched like his hand was flame, her little nose set on vibrate and he’d had to convince himself it wasn’t he she was afraid of.

She was afraid of hurting him.

It would be comical in any situation where it was less legitimate.

“Not exactly.” The kangaroo’s ears twitched nervously as she fiddles with the pouch in her nurse’s uniform. “But she’s terrified. We should warn you about letting you in, we wouldn't be doing it if you weren’t listed has the priority emergency contact, Officer Wilde. She wouldn't let Elsa Feliday, the ferality expert GED sent over, near her. Poor lioness was pretty torn up about it. We can’t start treatment until we get what’s happening worked out. Whoever started this may have changed the drug.” She winced again. “We may have to pull you out. Rabbits hearts can be a little delicate if frightened enough, and she seems to react worse to predators…”

Well, wasn’t that a good knife to the chest.

‘Are you afraid of me?

Think I’m going to eat you?”

He’d never felt worse for that little stint.

“Officer?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I understand.” He did, really. It just made him feel horribly cold and lost.

He never wanted anyone to be afraid of him.

The asylum’s chilly walls and bare doors seemed to gloss by, frosted over in his mind despite the Savannah District’s heat. They had moved the ferals before here, and he’d hated hearing the news then, and still did.

“We’re going to look through a one-way window and let you talk to her through a mike first. We’re hoping that won’t trigger it.” The doe’s ears twitched again. He’d learned to read a lot in them since working with Carrots. Worry far too often. “We’re calling in a rabbit expert before trying anything else. She’s so tense it’s likely to strain her heart, which we can’t allow. Working in the savannah, she’s a good deal more delicate that many of the animals we get here.”

Nick nodded tersely as the door was opened. The room beyond the glass was cushioned in friendly white square puffs, clearly built for animals without claws, as it looked soft and almost delicate, rather expensive.

Of course the hero of the city would get the best room they had. That, at least, he could agree with. Still, the foam bubbles also felt frosted over to him. Cold and white and dark and desolate.

Or maybe they just felt that way because of the rabbit cowering in the corner, ears twitching frantically and trembling likes she was freezing, hunched onto all fours.

“Going online now.”

He drew in a deep breath and nodded, and when he spoke it sounded like a prayer. “...Carrots?”