Wheeling Gull Isle Insistence in insanity

for @erika sorry in advance if this is a little over the place. You're my test subject for this guy

The sun spread itself across the skies in its spectacular way, bathing the spit of an island in warmth. Perched atop a stones precipice was the, for lack of a better description, utterly insane vulpine. He was sitting, overlooking the water as the waves rolled out below, roaring, crashing, retreating. The rush of wind that accompanied the noise almost drowned out the cackling inside his skull. Green eyes blinked back the salt spray as he laughed to himself about some such nonsense. The jovial laugh would be easily confused for mild amusement, as though he was laughing at his own bad pun.

He sat for minutes, hours, days, no, definitely just minutes as his thoughts rolled on by. How he got here was anyone's guess, what he was doing here was an even Wilder guess. One thing was certain though. The joyous laughing was insistent, broken only by random strings of words. pie this, and limbless, floating duck wolves that.
Madness was at least enjoyable, it seemed.

Erika wanted to take another nap. She slept 4 times a day now, nighttime, after dawn, after noon, before dusk. The burden of carrying pups around was too much on her petite frame. She really felt like a cat sometimes.

There was a lovely place she liked to sleep on the stones, where the sun could heat her skin and make her feel lovely and relaxed. After eating, she trudged over there, determined to make the most of the afternoon sun.

But then, she saw a fox on the rocks. The marred wolf blinked in surprise. There weren't many foxes on the Isle. Curious, she approached the small canine, barking softly. "Bonjour..."

It wasn't as though the little fox had wanted to be disturbed. He was in his own little world. A mad world, but it was his. Various tortures raced through his mind. That rabbit head. teehee the wild little laugh escaped as his trance was disturbed by the approach of another.

His one white paw lifted as she woofed in greeting, turning his gaze on the dark female that approached. His green eyes fixed on her, or behind her. Yes. Bonjour was that an insult? "Nope, it wasn't bonjour. Not at all, it was that rabbits head." He said with a determined nod. That made sense right? Not that he cared.

"Hi though, that's usually a polite way to introduce yourself. Not these slanderous names. Madman, pest, bonjour it's all very. ..rude." Again he nodded, another small, playful laugh escaped as his previously lifted paw swatted at the rock he was sitting on, it wasn't soft enough he wanted a soft stone. A frown spread over his features for an instant.

Aux yeux du renard ont tort. was the first thought that ran through her head. Foxes normally had amber eyes, but this one had green of all colors. Étrange. She thought, and she was merely going to tuck this oddity away as a quirk of nature until he spoke.

"Ah, non. Bonjour means 'ello." She tried to explain to the fox. "It was that rabbit's head"? What did he mean? What rabbit? "I did not mean to offend you, Monsieur. I was merely saying 'ello." It was the strangest way for her French to be misinterpeted. A slander? Non! She would never insult a stranger unless they deserved it.

The fox couldn't helps but tilt his head as she replied, the lilting flow of her words fell on ears that were usually deaf to anything but the yelling in his own head. He sat blinking as the words echoed for a moment. Ello? "Ooh. Bonjour, what a lovely word!" the joy in his voice was amplified by the little bounce he made on his perch. "Bonjour, bonjour, bonjour!" a delighted laugh followed before stopping abruptly. Offend? Who could offend him? The joy was replaced by a look of confused concentration as he tried to figure out some puzzle inside.

No more than a moment passed before he leaped off his stone in a dramatic fashion and moved toward the she-wolf. "That rock is not soft enough" he explained as he moved toward her. Suddenly stopping, his white paw once more lifted from the ground. I know you!He almost yelled at the dark canine. As if struck by the sudden realisation this was an old friend he forgot.

Her ears pressed back slightly in a gesture of nervousness. The fox had laughed before quite suddenly stopping. His face was a mask of concentration for a moment before he leapt up and walked towards her. "Non, I doubt zose rocks would be soft at all." She stammered, feeling the distinct urge to turn tail and walk away.

"I do not zink I 'ave met you before, Monsieur Reynard..." What on Earth was wrong with him? Did his mother hit his head when he was a kit? She had never encountered a fox so crazy and that was saying something.