The sheep wanders into this relationship bleating softly for warmth and reassurance, only to discover that the porcupine's idea of intimacy is standing three feet away and glaring suspiciously. As friends, there's a certain charm here — the sheep's easygoing nature can coax the porcupine out of its defensive crouch, and the porcupine keeps the sheep from being quite so catastrophically naive. Romantically, however, this is a slow-motion disaster: the sheep needs constant affection and the porcupine needs personal space the size of a small country. Someone's going home with puncture wounds, and it isn't the porcupine.
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