Verisimilar-Encompassing Rapport Tales

"Verisimilar-Encompassing Rapport Tales" re-imagines the friendship between Hannah Hare and H.H.H. if they'd met in different scenarios. It's inspired by a thought-provoking WildeHopps fic called, "What If?" (https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12553791/1/What-if-Collaboration) and by my relationship with the real-life H.H.H.

Prologue

“Do you ever wish we’d met under different circumstances?” It had been ages since Hannah Hare had the chance to get together with her friend the Mayor. One or both of them was always busy (usually him), and when they did see each other it was often only for a few minutes at a time; substantial visits were usually reserved for their entire friend group. More to the point: Hannah was usually never in a hurry, but because she was afraid of squandering this precious time, she didn’t hesitate to get right to the big stuff.

But because the Mayor (‘Sir Horse’ to her) was pleased at the prospect of having nowhere in particular to be, he didn’t mind in the least. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, sending her a curious glance as they headed down the street, Bruce a few steps in front of them, Zeke close behind.

“I mean—first of all, the scene of my accident doesn’t count, seeing as neither of us remember it very well. So then what I’m saying is that, if you weren’t Mayor, and if I didn’t work at L&P—your wife’s bakery—we could avoid having either politics, business, or both muddle up our social time.”

“You make an interesting point, Hannah.” As he spoke, he sent her a sympathetic glance. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“It’s okay,” she said, though her voice trembled a little. Then she sighed and said with more conviction, “It’s nobody’s fault, it just is.” She paused. “Look at us! We can’t even go anywhere without these two.” She glanced at Bruce and Zeke in turn, then spoke to them. “No offense, guys. We like you, but...”

“None taken,” said Bruce. “I get it.”

“If I hadda have someone folla me aroun’, I’d go nuts!” Zeke concurred, then smiled. “’Specially if it was Bruce. Then I’d go bonkers!”

“I heard that.” Even though Bruce didn’t look back at the bear, his smile was evident in his tone.

“Anyways, we didn’t mean to innerupt.” Zeke concluded. “We just wanna make sure you know you’re not alone.” Still looking straight ahead, Bruce snickered, while Hannah and Sir Horse grinned at Zeke.

“You know what I mean!” bemoaned the bear. “Sheesh!” But he laughed.

Out of the corner of Hannah’s eye, she caught sight of a colorful window display. “Ooh, is that a toy store?! Slow down, guys! I should be on the lookout for baby gifts for Judy and Nick.” She pulled to a stop, and the others joined her at the window. “Besides, I just like toy stores.”

The display was indeed decorated with toys and trinkets. Hannah looked up, squinting to block the sun as she struggled to read the sign. “Artie’s—Amusement—Emporium.” She glanced longingly in the window again. In the distance she could see an elderly wolf working the counter. In another moment, he looked up and spotted her, smiling...Only to do a double-take when he noticed Herb behind her.

The next thing they knew, the wolf had come to greet them at the door. “Well I’ll be, it is you! Mayor Horse, my good mammal, welcome to my humble establishment.” Bruce and Zeke exchanged surreptitious glances. Ultimately they decided that, since Hannah had led them here, they were in the clear. Sure, she was leveret-like, but she had good instincts. Not only that, but she was just as protective of the Mayor as they were—in her own, way, that is. She adored him and would never put him in danger.

“Name’s Artie,” said the wolf. “Been in business for thirty years and love this city to pieces. It’s about time someone in the Green House treat it right.” He shook Herb’s hoof enthusiastically. “Thank you for your service, kind sir.” As always, Herb didn’t quite know what to do with praise.

“It’s my pleasure.”

“I reckon these here are your security fellas, but who’s this little lady?” He cocked his head as though trying to place her. At first she thought he might recognize her from being in the tabloids alongside Johnny back in the day, but...She burst out laughing.

“I’m not a rabbit, Artie, I’m a hare. She’s much prettier than me, and she doesn’t have to contend with wheels. I’m Hannah. I work at her bakery, though.” The wolf looked chagrined.

“My apologies, Sir, Miss. Though you two make quite the pair, whatever that may be.” At this, Hannah beamed and said in her leveret voice,

“Sir Horse is one of my bestest friends!” Artie smiled.

“I see it now. I’m a silly old coot, is what I am. Give me a holler if you need anything; I’ll just be over here.” With that, he retreated behind the counter.

Left to their own devices, Hannah made a beeline for the toys, while Sir Horse wandered contentedly through the shop. He didn’t stop for anything in particular until he happened upon what looked to be an old video game console—only he knew it wasn’t, because the sight of it had jogged his memory.

“Artie’s Amusement Emporium—I knew that name sounded familiar!” he mused softly to himself. Then, “excuse me, Artie”--the wolf hurried over, eager to help his esteemed customer-- “but wasn’t your shop in the news recently?” Artie grinned.

“Yessir. That there” he indicated the mysterious machinery— “is called the V.E.R.T. ‘Virtual Experience...somethin’ or other.”

“Reflection and Transposition,” supplied Sir Horse when the terms came to mind. Artie snapped his claws.

“That’s it! They’re testin’ em out at a few spots around the city on account of recreation’s more high-tech these days.” Artie turned inquisitive eyes on the Mayor. “Wouldja like to try it out?” Before the horse could reply, the wolf went on, “They say it’s more fun if ya do it with a partner...a buddy, like.”

“I’m here!” Hannah appeared beside Sir Horse in an instant.

“How’d you get here so fast?” Artie asked with a laugh.

“I have ears like a rabbit,” Hannah clarified. “And also...wheels.” Turning to her friend, she said, “So...” She looked up at him, her eyes hopeful. “Can we play?” With the latter, her leveret voice was back. Sir Horse smiled.

“I don’t see why not...”

“Good,” Hannah said, grinning back. “I treat.” Rifling through her bag, Hannah pulled out her wallet. We’ll do one round...or whatever you call it.” Once Artie rang up the purchase, he circled back around to help them navigate the machine.

“It’s pretty easy. Just strap into the gear here,” he indicated the harness and helmet on each seat, “and choose which one you want.”

“You treat, you choose,” Sir Horse said to Hannah with a smile.

“I hear it’s a cross between the picture show and meditation,” Artie was saying. “And, Miss Hannah, yer gonna hafta scoot over...” He gestured toward the seat.

She glanced up at the security detail, who were looking slightly annoyed. “Um, Bruce, could you…?” As he lifted her onto the seat, he whispered,

“I guess we’ll consider this whole thing a trust exercise.”

Artie must’ve overheard, because he piped up, “now, don’t you two fellers get yer tails in a knot. You can set right behind em’. I got games in the back; you play rummy?” Bruce and Zeke—excellent multi-taskers both—were appeased.

And that was how the adventures began.

Chapter One: Groupie Gripes

Herb H. Horse was taking a leisurely walk in the park one day when he spotted a snowshoe hare laying on a park bench. At least he thought it was a snowshoe hare—its fur was bedraggled, its ears downcast. With its face turned away from him, he couldn’t tell much more. That’s when he heard crying.

Realizing it was the hare, he approached the bench with concern. “Are you alright?”

“No,” came the tremulous reply. “Johnny left.” The hare turned over, struggling to a sitting position. Her apparent weakness was compounded by a strikingly rounded belly that suggested several leverets. But, being the gentlemammal that he was, Herb didn’t bring it up; he let the hare tell her own story.

“He left on tour four weeks ago. He has no idea I’m like this. It was supposed to just be a casual fling...But I love him. If he finds out, I’ll never convince him to stay with me.” The hare sniffled. “I use a powerchair. He was going to see about the logistics of getting me on tour...We were going to see the world. But now there’s no chance I can go, and once he knows, he’ll break up with me.”

She sighed. “I don’t usually blubber to every mammal I meet, but...hormones.” She laughed a little, and Herb was startled that such a big, joyful sound could come from a slight hare in despair. “I’m Hannah Hare.”

“I’m Herb. Herb Horse. I like your laugh, by the way.” Hannah blushed at the compliment.

“Then I guess it’s fair to say...I like your voice. I think it’s what convinced me to tell you the whole sordid tale.” She laughed again, but it ended in a whimper. “What a mess.” Herb’s mouth curved upward in a small smile.

“You want sordid?! From high school through college—and then some—every date I went on was a disaster.” Hannah was appalled.

“You?! I don’t believe it!”

“It’s true. How much time do you have?” Hannah grinned at that, even as she said,

“Plenty—it’s just me and my littlies.” Then her face fell. “But you don’t have to...Just answer me this: what’re these days like for you?”

“Oh, my wife rescued me from the dating pool a long time ago.”

“Here’s to that! Kind of like how you rescued me from another dreary day.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Herb told her with a modest smile.

“What’s Johnny like?”

“He’s amazing. This is his first big tour. I’m so proud of him, but fame freaks him out. That’s why he would dump me—not because he doesn’t care about me. He’s worked so hard to get this far, and he can’t take any more stress.” That, Herb realized, was the crux of Hannah’s dilemma. Filing away this key information, he kept it light…though not only for the hare’s sake, because he was genuinely interested.

“So he’s a singer?”

“Yeah. I like to call him a ‘crooner’--he does covers of oldies, easy listening, that kind of thing. He has the most beautiful voice…!” she beamed. He smiled back.

“He’s a very lucky buck to have such a sweet doe say that about him,” Herb observed.

“Maybe”--Hannah blushed again— “but he’s not a buck. Well, not a snowshoe buck, anyway...He’s a koala.” Spotting Herb’s pleased but curious expression, she took it as an invitation to elaborate. “When we started dating, the doctors said there was a really small chance that I’d end up...” With a smug smile, she glanced down at her belly. “So...we weren’t exactly careful.” Just like that, she cracked up laughing. Herb found himself laughing along with her; in spite of his stance on decorum, he liked that they seemed to share a sense of humor—a taste for odd observations that occasionally bordered on edgy. “I’m in a crazy place right now, but I’m excited. If Johnny weren’t so nervous, this would be perfect.” She gave him a wistful smile.

As he considered her words, a thought came to him.“Where are my manners?!” mused the horse, half to himself. “Congratulations, Hannah.”

“Oh—thank you!” She watched him thoughtfully. “If I had to guess, I’d say your manners are on one sleeve, and your heart’s on the other, ‘cause...I’m like that, too.” Herb was moved to discover that Hannah, too, had noticed how much they had in common. In fact, it gave him an idea. But first he had to ask some tough questions.

“Consider the things I’m about to ask you a friendly brainstorm,” he told her.

“Oh—okay.” Her surprise suggested she wasn’t used to this kind of attention.

“You don’t think Johnny’s ready for little ones yet?”

“No,” she said sadly. “He loves being around them, but he’s got a lot on his plate.”

“Is there anyone around to help?”

“Only his parents, who live over on Outback Island. And...” Hannah hesitated. “Did I mention Johnny’s closer to you in age than me? Or...that he has a family?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

“Don’t feel bad. I got distracted.” She smiled, and after considering this for a moment, she added, “Actually, that might be your fault. But I needed it. Talking to you has been the most fun I’ve had since...”

“Since when?” Herb prompted.

“Since these guys”--she glanced guilty down at her belly-- “came into existence.” Catching her innuendo, Herb couldn’t help but laugh. Still, Hannah remained chagrined.

“That doesn’t mean I equate the two, it just means...I attach emotion to everything, and that—for the most part—makes me happy.”

“Except when it doesn’t pan out,” Herb replied sadly.

“Yeah.” They were quiet for a moment. At length, the horse smiled when he said,

“That, dear Hannah, is yet another thing we have in common—giving life our all and hoping for the best. And it’s given me an idea...Would you like to come stay with my wife and I?” Her face lit up, but fell almost immediately. “I couldn’t...it’s not just the littlies that’ll need care, it’s me, too...That’s...I can’t.”

“I meant to tell you this earlier, but, as it turns out, now makes the most sense.” Just as she had all afternoon, Hannah hung onto his every word. “My wife’s a rabbit. Our situation is similar to what the doctors told you and Johnny, but we haven’t been so lucky.” Hannah appeared close to tears.

“I’m such a…!”

“It’s fine, Hannah. You couldn’t have known. Besides, you’re happy about them, so I’m happy for you. All I mean is, we’d be overjoyed to have the pitter-patter of little feet around...” Hannah was astounded. There was no way she’d be able to care for the babies by herself, but now they’d have a loving home. “...and the ‘click-clack’ of wheels, too.” She looked up, wide-eyed, from her reverie.

“Me? Stay? For good?!” Herb smiled modestly.

“If you’ll have us. My friend Bruce is studying to be a nurse. He hangs around the house all the time anyway, so we’ll just make him earn his keep.”

~

“Wow!” Hannah took off her helmet and shook the dazed laziness out of her limbs.

“Is that really all you have to say?” asked Sir Horse, following suit. “I think you’re forgetting something,” he smiled. Hannah laughed, adding,

“Awww!”

“That’s better.”

“And Bruce, a nurse?! Somehow I can’t picture that.”

“Excuse me?” The moose came up beside her, unhooking her harness and giving her a half-smile. As her eyes danced with good humor, Hannah quipped,

“Um, Zeke—could you help me up?” Everyone laughed.

Chapter Two: B-list BFFs

“Why are you wearing a tux when we’re just going to Artie’s?” Hannah asked Sir Horse one sunny afternoon. In response, he gave her the look of mock-shock that always tickled her funny bone. “Just...! Shame on you, Hannah! Not only does Artie run his own business—all by his lonesome, I might add—but he also maintains one of the most innovative pieces of technology in Zootopia’s possession! I’d say that calls for a little pomp and circumstance, wouldn’t you?” She laughed.

“I don’t do pomp and circumstance, my friend—but, then again, you’re classier than I am.” Smiling, she continued. “So...what’s the real deal?” Sir Horse smiled back.

“You certainly are persistent, Hannah...If you must know, I have an engagement later this evening and didn’t want to rush you by cutting our visit short for prep time.” With a smile of appreciation for her companion, she said,

“That’s very considerate of you. But...” It was her turn to be a cutup. “I was hoping you’d dressed up for me…!”

“I did think you might be amused,” offered Sir Horse, which seemed to satisfy the hare.

“Amused?! Maybe a little, but that’s not quite the right word. ‘Impressed’ is more like it. But even then...it’s like this. You are so important to me that sometimes I like to see outward signs of importance that I know will help others see how important you are. Does that make sense?” She looked pleased with herself, having closed with a question he often asked her, as if in the name of cinching her argument.

“I think so. Let’s review...You think I’m special, so you want others to see that I’m special, too?”

“Yeah...which means that said specialness isn’t a projection. It’s there.”

“Thank you, dear Hannah.”

“You’re welcome.” Without skipping a beat, she continued her previous train of thought. “Unlike me, who’s an acquired taste. You’ve got it all together, the full effect of which is...You look like a movie star in that outfit!”

“Do I really?” answered Sir Horse, surprised. Hannah laughed.

“This is me you’re talking to. You don’t have to fish for compliments—they’re all yours! And absolutely—it really suits you!” She laughed some more and, as she composed herself, glanced around to ensure that Bruce and Zeke—plus anyone else who might care to listen--were at a respectable distance. Finding that to be true, she beamed up at her friend. “I love you, Sir Horse.” This was Hannah’s day on the town, and she was going to live it up...which is precisely what she’d done with those words.

“The feeling’s mutual.” The hare could scarcely believe her ears; he referred to that word very sparingly, even as he showed it in abundance. Noting her shocked expression, he smiled.

“I think I may have figured out a way to prove it to you.” With that, he placed one hoof over his heart, while raising the other, as though taking an oath. “I, Herb H. Horse, shall strive to make a V.E.R.T. selection that reflects the things you most enjoy, thus returning your kindness.”

“Awww!”

And thereby hangs a tale.

~

Hannah Snowshoe Hare had always wanted to act. Somewhere deep in her soul, she longed to explore mammals who were more interesting than she was. She’d moved to Zootopia to pursue the craft, and—eventually--the journey paid off.

Six months ago, she’d signed on to play the bubbly best friend in an as-yet-unnamed romantic comedy/buddy movie. Looking back, she could barely believe she’d survived the audition, especially considering the fact that the casting director couldn’t find a lead. Instead, she’d read with a sweet intern called Johnny Reid. He was actually really good, but somehow Hannah thought he’d be even better as a singer; his accent alone made her swoon…Up until a week ago, there had been no sign that the project would move forward. But then she got the call—they’d found a lead, and were ready to go.

Today would be her first day on set; she smiled the whole way to the studio, where a commotion stopped her in her tracks. Possessing a short stature made shorter by her powerchair, Hannah instinctively craned her neck to see beyond the hubbub. But then she saw him.

A stylish stallion towered over the group, smiling and speaking patiently even as what seemed like a million mammals were vying for his attention. But she herself had no chance to so much as smile at the sight before being whisked off to her makeup trailer.

Hannah had never cared much for makeup, and she had a tendency to fidget. Both made sitting perfectly still almost intolerable—if not for the fact that she was free to consider her co-star. She may be a novice when it came to this new environment, but she had a feeling she was going to like him.

Her instincts served her well. As she’d left the trailer for the first shoot, nerves had nearly gotten the best of her. But the first few scenes were a breeze thanks to her new leading mammal—six hours passed like nothing, and then it was time for lunch.

Hannah had worked up an appetite, so she scurried off to catering, then found a quiet table to enjoy. Ten minutes later, she almost spilled her drink when an unexpected voice queried,

“May I join you?” She looked up, and there he was.

“Be my guest,” she said with a smile, adding, “but are you sure? Because by the time we wrap, you might get sick of me.” He returned the smile and sat down.

“I doubt that would ever happen.”

“I guess we haven’t officially met, so...I’m Hannah Snow.”

“That’s a pretty name,” he told her, and she blushed.

“Thanks. It’s a stage name, but it’s close to the real thing. As you can see, I’m a snowshoe hare...”

“Ah.” He smiled and went on, “Well, hold on to your hat, Hannah--and maybe take notes—because my name is: Herbert Hogden Horse...The Fourth,” he finished with a slight bow. Hannah grinned. From anyone else, the drawn-out introduction would’ve been egotistical...but from him, it was endearing.

“And if you’re keeping score, there’s more...My mother is a mare, and my father is a boar.” Doing her absolute best not to laugh—and faltering nonetheless—she managed,

“Okay, now you’re just showing off!” He smiled.

“With the free-verse poetry? Yes. But the part about my parents is true. And, by the way, you can call me Herb.”

“I don’t know...” she began, studying him with interest. “Since you saved me from a boring lunch break...I hereby dub thee, ‘Sir Horse’.”

“Why, thank you, Dame Snow.” They both laughed.

“Well, you may not appreciate my name,” the equine said with mock chagrin, “but the writers sure do. I was late getting here because they pulled me aside and asked if they could use it in the title. They even insisted on paying me a bonus in exchange, but I told them to give it to charity.” For a moment, Hannah was speechless.

When the hare finally found her voice, she had plenty of conviction to go with it. “See? What did I say? A knight in shining armor.” There wasn’t an ounce of sarcasm in her tone.

The next day, they were shooting some scenes with Skye Savage, Herb’s fiancee in the film. Despite being an arctic fox, Skye was strikingly similar to Marilyn Bunroe in appearance—an alluring, ethereal figure. Come lunchtime, fast friends Hannah and Herb had a lot to say—at the horse’s expense. When they reached the table, the first words out of Hannah’s mouth were, “So...I don’t see a wedding shoe.”

“There’s a reason for that,” he said, and she detected a touch of disappointment behind the self-deprecating humor.

“Skye didn’t have a ring,” she coaxed.

“She probably left it in her trailer for the shoot.” Sir Horse sounded unusually glum.

“What’s the matter?” Hannah asked softly.

“I appreciate what you were trying to do there, but don’t bother. Every date I go on is catastrophic.”

“Tell me you’re acting right now…?!”

“I wish I was. Skye seems great, but just seeing her got me thinking; as long as I’m an actor, it’s going to be difficult to find someone genuine.”

“I see that,” Hannah wasn’t obsessed with finding romance, but she could appreciate the struggle, especially in an industry as image-obsessed as this one.

“If I find someone...”

“When,” Hannah corrected with an encouraging smile.

“...She won’t be in this business. Better yet, when we meet, she’ll have no idea who I am.”

“Fair enough,” Hannah agreed. “But once she does, she’ll be proud of you, just like you should be proud of yourself.”

“I think you missed your calling, my friend...You should be a kiddie television host.” He smiled warmly. “Which is to say that, like youngsters, all of us need comforting sometimes—and you did an excellent job of it.”

Hannah would’ve loved to be such a host—she admired them, and all the creatives who chose to work with littlies—but she didn’t have the knack for it. Even so, she’d tried out for a pilot with puppets, which ended up proving her point. And yet here was Sir Horse, who had soothed her just as successfully the day before. Yes, it was only yesterday that they’d met—but it felt like a lifetime ago.

Within a month or two, Sir Horse and Dame Snow had settled into their roles—both on- and off-set. When the director called, “Action!” he was the ‘straight mammal’, and she the sidekick. But when the cameras weren’t rolling, the tables could turn—surprising both of them, but ultimately allowing each to see a different side of the other, which was always rewarding.

In time, they even adopted an old theater tradition; they never said ‘good luck’ before a take. But Hannah didn’t have the heart to say, ‘break a leg’ to such a dear friend as Herb, nor could he speak the phrase in good conscience when she was already in a wheelchair. So she always said to him, “I hope your next date is a bust!” And he to her,

“May you mess up a line in front of your intern!” But they always did this privately, because it didn’t seem fair to say aloud just how many of Herb’s dates had flopped, or how Hannah got just a trifle too happy when Johnny arrived with her morning beverage.

The crew, too, enjoyed their banter, and soon decided they wanted in on this mini-secret club of showbiz. Some days, they would randomly play “Act Naturally” by Bucktooth Owens; Herb would playfully sulk, which would make Hannah burst out laughing. No matter how many times they pulled that prank, it worked like a charm...and if they snuck it in before a take, even better. It was fun to watch the two friends as they scrambled to school their features and retain focus.

There were plenty of things about movie-making that rendered Hannah self-conscious, but masking her laugh wasn’t one of them. She had a great guffaw, and the crew would fall all over themselves (sometimes literally—she loved slapstick) to get her to let loose. But nobody elicited more laughs from her than Herb, and when that happened during a scene, the crew just let it roll off their backs and kept the camera rolling. That laugh was comedy gold.

Still, no matter what antics the crew got into, Hannah and Herb were always very protective of one another. When, for instance, the crew tried to play Gilbert O’Elephant’s devastatingly sad “Alone Again, Naturally” instead of the usual tune, Hannah would have threatened to run over their feet if Herb hadn’t talked her down.

And when they’d blasted BABBAboons’ “When I Kissed The Teacher”--during the scene where Hannah’s character congratulates Herb’s after he officially becomes an educator--he demanded to stop filming and lectured them all about the harm in toying with other mammals’ emotions. Before that day, nobody had ever heard him raise his voice; the fact that he would do so on her behalf brought tears of gratitude to Hannah’s eyes. After that, they both sulked back to his trailer to recoup. At length, Hannah broke the sullen silence: “My hero!” she exclaimed, complete with fluttering eyelashes and a faux-flirtatious smile.

Thus they persevered, and on the day the director said, “I Love You, Herbert H. Horse, take 10, and...Action!” for the final time, they knew that their friendship itself would stick around for many “sequels” to come.

In show business, there’s a stigma attached to the phrase, ‘just friends’, as though said status is somehow less valuable than its romantic counterpart. But when Herb invited Hannah to accompany him to the premiere, a magical thing happened—nobody thought twice about it, because they knew that those two, hare and horse, were a force to be reckoned with, a pair of proud pals through and through.

~

“Bravo! Bravo!” Hannah clapped as she was unstrapped and lifted back into her seat. “If anyone ever decides to make a fictionalized biopic of our friendship, that should be it.”

“Hear, hear,” agreed Sir Horse. “Someone call Weaselton.” Hannah wasn’t sure if she wanted to let an as-yet-unreformed petty criminal get his paws on the cherished story, but it had worked for Judy and Nick, so...who knew?!

“Thanks for thinking of me,” Hannah beamed, giving Sir Horse a heartfelt hug. He had followed through on his promise to choose their amusement wisely and well, which warmed Hannah’s very soul.

“That thoughtful piece of interactive cinema gave me an idea,” Sir Horse said. “Sam’s staying late at the bakery tonight...” He smiled a little, adding, “It’s her way of avoiding unwanted engagements. Since you’re here, and it’s only--” he looked at his watch-- “40 minutes ‘til showtime, would you like to be my guest?”

Hannah’s face lit up. “Yes! I was so jealous when Judy told me she got to go to the Mayoral Ball!”

“This one may not be as interesting as that, but...” Hannah wasn’t having it. “I have just enough time to go home, brush my fur, and get into my favorite purple dress!” Just like that, she was off, with Sir Horse smiling after her.

Chapter Three: Lend An Ear, or An Open Book

“I think I’m in love.” Hannah Snowshoe Hare had no idea how those words had escaped from the recesses of her mind. In fact, shocked as she was that they’d decided to show up, she wasn’t upset; she had no qualms about the way her authentic antics were always magnified by the presence of her friend Sir Horse.

Inclining his head in her direction, the easygoing equine kept it casual, although his interest was piqued. “Is that so? Are we talking literally or figuratively?” ‘It’s so sweet of him to care,’ thought the hare; after all, he had a lot on his plate these days: He’d recently been re-elected mayor of Zootopia, and Sam’s bakery was as popular as ever, meaning he’d pitch in whenever he could, just like always.

“Are you sure it isn’t just a crush? No offense, my friend, but you tend to have a lot of those.” He smiled; that they both knew well, as he’d been on the short list once. “And with whom, may I ask?” Hannah laughed—flustered, flattered, and happy as could be.

“Are you done with ‘20 Questions’ yet?!” she teased.

“Well, I do aspire to be a teacher, and occasionally our ilk can be somewhat verbose.” The horse’s eyes gleamed with good humor.

“Okay, now you’re just--messing with me…!” Hannah huffed in feigned indignation. But did her breath catch as she stated her stance? Herb couldn’t believe what he’d heard, but he’d heard it for sure. There was a connection here…

“Aw, now I’m being cagey…!” Chastising herself thus, Hannah continued, “I don’t mean to be, it’s just...” She proceeded to explain that some mutual friends had, several months ago, set her up on a blind date, hoping for a ‘love connection’. She and her suitor had been put through their paces in that regard, eventually parting on platonic terms.

That had been ideal for both of them...until Hannah suddenly “caught feelings” (as millennials say). She wasn’t at all disappointed—she relished it, really—but she doubted he would feel the same.

“We had an agreement,” Hannah explained. “Then I went and muddled it up.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at herself. “But I”--here, she put her paw to her heart-- “like him, a lot, so I want to be respectful of our pact.” Now that Hannah had warmed up to the idea—her mind, and her cheeks, too—she found she couldn’t stop...the feelings, or the gushing. She’d hoped to keep this private for the most part, but if someone was going to ask, she was glad it had been Sir Horse.

“His name’s Lory,” Hannah told her friend. “There’s so much I could say about him, but, since you mentioned it...He has that verbosity thing in common with you. And me, actually. But the best part of that is, he’s not ashamed by it. He’s very up-front about it; he puts it out there, and then he goes for it…! He’s a fantastic storyteller, too. In fact, he...Oh, you know what? I could go on all day…!” She laughed, secure in the admission. “But here we are at Artie’s, so I’ll catch you up another time.”

Sir Horse smiled, giving her a subtle look, and just like that, she knew he was up to something. “When Artie grants us access to some of the most exciting socially and emotionally-driven technology around? We’ll see about that.” Hannah found herself both chagrined and elated. Leave it to Mayor Horse to take advantage of innovation…!

~

Hannah was beginning to get very tired of sitting at her local bookstore, Pawse, and of having nothing to do. She’d already been reading all afternoon, and her neck was now stiff as a board. Since it was impossible to concentrate while in such pain, she was resigned to be bored until her neck straightened itself out.

Once or twice she had peered around the shop to see what the other customers were doing (though gingerly, so as not to jar her neck). Some were browsing, some were reading (‘like I should be’, thought the snowshoe hare bitterly), and others were sampling audiobooks while settled in at plush stations, their ears, too, enveloped in comfort.

Although she appreciated the value of a cozy chair (owning a rather luxurious electric wheelchair herself), she was baffled by the idea of books meant to be heard and not seen. ‘What’s the use of a book,’ thought Hannah, ‘without the written word in it?’ You see, she cherished all the arts, but the written word was by far her most favorite. As far as she was concerned, it simply should not—could not—be compromised.

All consideration of this incomprehensible insult faded as her ears twitched, picking up the joyful sound of children. Somewhere near the back of the shop, one called, “C’mon, guys, it’s storytime!” and an excited chorus of giggles and chatter ensued. But, as quickly as it began—silence.

A warm and gentle male voice said, “Welcome, everyone! Today’s story is Curious George Goes to the Hospital.”

Hannah beamed; that had been one of her favorite books as a kit. Listening to it then, it seemed as though no time had passed. When the narrative came to a close, she was sorry it had to end. Whoever had read just then possessed a wonderful voice, perfectly suited to such pastime; how lucky those kits were to hear it!

What’s more, she’d forgotten all about the pain in her neck—in fact, she realized now, it was gone. She could keep reading! But instead she sat basking in the beauty of that memorable narration—eyes closed, beatific smile in place.

“Are you okay, Miss…?” She opened her eyes, a bit startled to see the owner of that marvelous voice: a stallion whose tall frame and stately bearing seemed and odds with his keen brown eyes and—that voice! In sum, it took Hannah a moment to find her own.

“I—I’ve never been better! That was you reading to the kits back there, wasn’t it?” The horse seemed surprised that she’d noticed, and shrugged.

“Yep. It’s a volunteer position; I come in a come in a couple of times a week. I find it rewarding, and the kits seem to enjoy it, too.”

“They aren’t the only ones; I think you were great!”

“Thanks. If you ever come by again, feel free to join us; I could use the encouragement.” Hannah grinned.

“I’m here all the time! I’ll bet we haven’t noticed each other because I usually have my nose stuck in a book. I tend to huddle in a corner somewhere and tune everything else out.” He smiled.

“Good call. What’s your name?”

“Hannah. How about you?”

“Herb.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise, but I’m sure you want to get back to your book now...” He gestured to the one she’d set beside her.

“Oh--don’t worry about it. I’ve read this one a bazillion times. It’s my favorite.” She held it up for inspection. “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland,” she added proudly. “I collect all kinds of different editions. I just bought this one today, but I couldn’t wait ‘til I got home to read it!”

“We have something in common, then—avid readers both,” Herb observed, pleased. “Although my personal favorite is The Great Catsby. Have you read it?” Hannah made a face of unabashed distaste, then had the decency to look chagrined. Still, she said,

“Unfortunately, yes. It was assigned to us in high school English. My teacher was obsessed with it.”

“Is there any other way to be?”Herb asked. Hannah should have been annoyed by that remark, but instead it made her smile. She liked Herb, even if his book preference was questionable. Sensing her uncertainty, he added, “Don’t answer that.” She laughed.

“Okay. But I will say that art is subjective, so there are no wrong answers.”

“Excellent point, Hannah. I like the way you think.” He paused, thoughtful. “Now that I’m back in your good graces, may I recommend something?”

“Recommendations don’t hold much water against subjectivity, but...” She was curious. “Sure.”

“There’s a great audiobook version of Catsby by a guy named Lory Birdton. He does a great job. I think you’ll enjoy it.” Hannah waffled.

“Weeell...I’ve never understood all the fuss over that one.”

“Fair enough. But, as you said, art is subjective. For me, Catsby’s beauty lies in the fact that, in a world so filled with “no” – think how often we’re told whatnot to do when we’re young – he found his way to “yes.” Delusional? Perhaps. Quietly inspiring? For me, yes.”

“Hmmm...” Hannah would have hated to admit it aloud, but she was intrigued by his explanation.

“Tell you what. I’ll make this really easy for you; follow me.” Filled with literary trepidation, Hannah wound her way to the back of the bookstore as Herb led the way, eventually presenting her with the shelf upon which said edition of Catsby sat. “Here it is.” He spoke in an almost reverent tone. Hannah watched him remove a copy from its pedestal with equal care, and carry it to a station at the front of the store as she followed once more.

He even went so far as to set it up for her. Then, he left her with a smile and these parting words: “Happy listening!” She smiled and sent him off with a friendly wave, but scoffed when he was out of sight.

Donning headphones in a huff, she wondered, ‘when can I get back to my book?! Soon, I hope.’ Still, she resolved to relish the spoken word and tune out all the tropes. And from the second she pressed ‘play’, that proved achievable in scope...as she began to swoon and forgot to mope.

~

“You got one thing right—only Lory could prevent your precious book from becoming a snoozefest. If only that recording actually existed…!” Hannah laughed as Herb recoiled in mock disgust.

“Art may be subjective, my friend, but the quality of the diction, of course, is indisputable--and strong, varied vocabulary is what drives vocal performance.”

“I don’t know about that, but I’m pretty sure Lory would agree with you, so you win.” Her friend seemed touched, smiling as she continued, “For the longest time, I didn’t get how inspiration could be quiet; for me, it’s always been loud...big, bold, major ‘eureka!’ moments.” She spread her arms out for emphasis. “But now, because of Lory, I see that you have a point. The only things flashy about him are his feathers, and when he gets ‘in the zone’ of a performance. Other than that, he’s just...”

“The strong and silent type?” Herb offered.

“More than that. He’s shy, and sweet, and silly...He always speaks his mind, and makes you want to listen.” Herb’s compassionate gaze reminded Hannah that the two muses shared that trait as well.

“You’re forfeiting vindication in the name of love? How noble of you.”

“’Tis my pleasure, Sir Horse.” They laughed, and all signs of friction, real or imagined, dissipated like the most transitory of diction.