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I think only two sentences make sense here sorry
He wanted to punch him. That would be easy, wouldn't it? But on the other hand, no, he really did not want to hit the guy -hurting him with a punch was impossible at this age, unless he suddenly obtained super strength- but he was itching with the need to do something. Anything. Jab a paw in his chest, puff up his personality that was already far too big for him, shove it all under the rug with some kind of quip because that was B, always joking, always being an idiot and running his mouth, getting himself into trouble for apparently no reason. Keeping his paws on the ground but staring at the clouds all the same. "Doing what? Breathing? I see you haven't had this talk yet. Okay, well my young Winifred, when a living being is, y'know, alive, it does this thing where it takes in oxygen. Can't be helped, unless they're dead. Which I'm not, last I checked."
B had yet to be completely, no-take-backs angry. Irritated, definitely, and sometimes he was close, and other times he seemed angry when he really wasn't, but he'd managed to keep a lid on it so far. Settle a blanket over it to hide the mess. "Nothing to see here." Boy didn't want to lose control of himself like that, didn't want to be controlled by his temper, because for all his jokes, his grins, his general sociability, his feelings? He didn't want them making the decisions. They weren't decisions when emotions were involved, just reactions, but sometimes it all tangled so much he couldn't separate them, like what was happening now, logic telling him to let it go because there was no harm done, while that other box in the chest was very much in the opposite corner on that. So punching would solve everything faster. "You mean you don't like Winnie?" His eyes widened comically, jaws parting. Yeah, he was poking. He needed to, so the poking wouldn't be in his direction anymore. "I- wow, no. I didn't know that."
Boy's vomit wasn't green. He didn't know what color it was, which was probably surprising since he had eaten all that cereal, and they'd probably made bets with each other on how long he'd be bent over for. Joke's on them. "Uh, yeah, I did; what else was I supposed to use? Tape?" B snorted, flapping a paw, before his gaze snapped to Felix, and he huffed. "Excuse you, I'm not predictable. How dare you, you've goat nothing on me." He still had it.
"Felix helped me, with soap. And then I buried the petals, right next to my heart. The ceremony was very sweet. Hey, tell him what you said." The cub jerked his head to the miniature goat, and then he looked back at Win. "He said some very touching things about that flower crown. It was my better half."
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