Fox's Glade Ruh roh, Raggy

The level of sheer stupidity in this thread makes my head hurt, omfg

For once, the young coyote was confused—okay, yeah, no. It wasn’t even close to being the first time his brain throbbed from pure confusion. Hell, he was confused in the womb. Somehow, though, this feeling was still one that seemed new to him. It wasn’t because there appeared to be nothing wrong with his proclamation of engagement to a tree (of all things), or even the fact that his dear friend was unnaturally stupid—no, it was because he was actually questioning these things. For the first time since he’d been conceived, Raka’s brain was really working in an attempt to process what was going on around him. It was an uncomfortable sensation, he’d soon realized, and wanted so desperately for it to stop. What good came out of thinking so much, anyways? There was none, as far as he was concerned.

It was an unlucky thing for his brother to speak so moronically, for it’d only served to further complicate things. The gears in his head were turning, though they creaked and whined with resistance. He tried to deny that his brain was truly functioning, believing that doing so might make the feeling go away. After all, if he didn’t see or think about it, it wasn’t really happening… right? Yeah, that was totally how things worked, no doubt about it. At that, his mouth lifted to display a lopsided grin, the gears in his head slowing to a stop. “No, man, dey're likes... de broders t'wives? Yeah, dat's whut dey are. Right On! We kin be da damn broders t'our wife-to-be,” he declared, still not seeing the issue with what he was saying. “Clarice, man, she's so's lucky t'gots' us bod.” His head turned slowly, light eyes snaking their way over to and up the “body” of his fiancée. There was a look of longing in his eyes, before he winked and flashed a grin at the tree. “Love ya', babe!”