WildeHood: A Zootopia and Robin Hood Crossover

Prologue

A wave of arrows crashed behind Robin's heels. His feet were racing, his heart was beating out of his chest, but his mind was at rest. This was child's play. A lark, if you will. Perfectly perfunctory.

Yes, his mind was in the clouds. He often had his deepest and most philosophical thoughts while running from death itself.

Too long. For too long he's stolen from the people he's meant to be helping. Why has King Richard not put an end to it? It truly baffles me. The ignorance of King Richard, one of my best friends in life, and the only person with the power to stop him, is why I'm here, risking my life to get their money back. I love it! In fa-"

His conscious was interrupted by an arrow impaling the stone wall beside him. It was a little too close for comfort; a rock shard hit the corner of his eye. Ah, yes...I'm running for my life. I should probably focus my attention on that.

After wiping the sweat from his brow and not having another moment to think, he yanked the arrow free from the stone, collected another that landed nearby, and began to climb.

He was almost to the top when a beastly figure took hold of his shirt collar and pulled him up so that they were snout to snout. Snarling teeth filled a mouth the size of Robin's head. The eyes and fur of the creature were a deep brown, barely distinguishable from the starless night sky that surrounded them. He would have been gravely fear provoking if his breath didn't smell like blueberries.

"Rob!" The entirety of his large form rose and fell as he gasped for breath. "We've got to get out of here!"

"Really? I was hoping to stay," the fox chuckled, trying to lighten the bear's mood.

"Not a good time." The incredibly inaccurately named Little John put him down and coiled the rope. The howls of the sheriff's goons were growing closer from all angles. However, they were a...minor obstacle that the pair had dealt with before without many issues, but this was a heist unlike any Robin had planned in a long time. This one was personal, and the sheriff had reasons to expect him here.

Little John led him across the dark hallway and into a vacant guestroom. The mansion, once a fort, showed its true purpose at night despite heavy and costly renovations. The only thing resembling windows on this wing were arrowslits that only lit slim, periodic areas of the hall. The pair stood close together and flattened themselves against the opposite wall, and tiptoed so that even their feet didn't touch the light. "How much did ya' get?"

"Plenty enough. See for yourself," he whispered, holding his head high as he motioned towards the balcony. Sacks upon sacks of gold were crowded onto it, and Little John grew a half amazed, half angry expression.

"Rob, how in the world did you mana-"

"That's not important now. What's important now is getting all of it on the wagon with our tails still attached." Robin held his long tail close to his body and suddenly looked uncharacteristically worried. "Which is going to be a lot harder for me than it is for you. I brought the wagon just below it, as we had planned."

Little John's eyes widened worriedly as he peered over the wall. "How are we gonna get ourselves and all that over the moat, again?"

Robin swung his paw across his face in disinterest. "That's no moat, that's just a wealthy person's wishing well." He stepped out on the balcony, propping one arm on the railing and pointing down at the water with the other. He raised his head again, his words echoing through the dark woods. "I laugh in the face of this pathetic moat, and all who dug it! Hah!"

Little John stared at him. "Ok, then how are we gonna get over it?"

"I haven't the slightest idea."

The bear struggled to keep his voice at a whisper. "Well you'd better get to thinkin', becau-"

"Shhshhshhshh, do you hear that?" Robin unsheathed his sword and searched his surroundings. The wolves had stopped howling, and the arrows had stopped bombarding the wall.

"Rob! Behind ya!" The bear shouted, but it was too late.

A coyote darted out from the pitch black hall and pinned Robin against the wall by his wrists. Robin's sword clanked to the ground. The coyote gnashed out at Robin's snout, but Robin had just enough room to turn his head sideways against the wall to avoid him. These coyotes had learned Robin's scent by now, and were trained to spill his blood at any opportunity. Dark, isn't it? Don't worry. The drooling makes them a lot less threatening. This one was alone, though. He must be either too stupid to stay with his pack, or the only one smart enough to find me. Either way, I don't like it, he thought.

Little John clutched onto the coyote's neck fur and flung him across the room. Robin dove for his sword, and the wolf immediately rose and drew his own.

"Johnny, get the gold! Just throw it over the water!"

"Great! What about us?"

"I'm kinda busy! I'll get right back to you on that!"

Little John, one by one, tossed the bags off the balcony, seldom missing the wagon, but never hitting the water. He tried to focus his attention on his aim and off of the thunder-like symphony of clanking metal and questionable grunts and howls from behind him.

Robin swung his sword upwards as hard and fast as he could, and sent his opponent's sword flying into the ceiling. He then grabbed his bow from his back and tackled the coyote using the grip of the bow to choke him, while Little John used the grappling hook to tie his limbs together.

Robin peered down at the coyote the latest of many he had pulled this on. "Terrible, terrible swordsmanship. I teach the kiddies on Tuesde's, I'd be happy to show you more. Just tell Harvey you didn't know who was here, and I'll spare you. Ya got it?"

The coyote whimpered apologetically, his arctic eyes begining to moisten.

"And, one more thing. Tell that boss of yours that Harvey is the true thief here, not me. It's him he should be looking for things to blame on. Now, you don't think I stole this gold for wrong, do ya?"

He shook his head no.

Robin patted him on the head. "Good lad." He grabbed a rope from his arrow bag, tied it to the balcony's railing, shot the other end across the moat, and slid gracefully down it.

"Bear!"

Little John gazed horrifically over the balcony once more. The water seemed a thousand meters below him, and four thousand meters deep. Robin motioned for him to hurry down, but he continued to stare downwards and flick the rope. "Are you sure this thing'll hold me?"

"...who am I to say that it won't?" He shrugged.

The howling returned to echoing down the dark hallways. They had found their scent. Little John grabbed the rope with one paw, then the other. He started to slide down, slowly but surely. Everything was fine. Everything was fine. He was halfway down now. Everything was fine. The rail popped off. Everything was not fine.

Luckily, he landed not far from the edge. They both could swim fine, it's just that sliding down the rope was quicker. And dryer. And it had less of a chance of alligators being involved, but you never know. The moat seemed to be unguarded, but Little John had no plans of staying.

He flopped onto the short, wet grass, and shook himself, releasing a monsoon of loose hairs and pond water all over Robin, who had been giggling, but had now stopped to wipe his eyes with his shirt. "If my bath is over, I'd like for us to leave now. I'd like some soup. How about some soup?"