Sawtooth Spire we are nothing but waddling colonies of tiny little monsters

Tonravik watched as he realized he had lost the battle, his body meek and submissive. As he pressed against her chest, Tonravik accepted the gesture and put her own head down beside him. Tonravik could see her son was a quick learner, despite his youth, and even now his size made him quick. He was not the ruddy red of his father, but the red of a fox kit... it was this she lamented over, a mother who believed her son would be forever alone but (or, seemed to, to her) had such great potential otherwise. At the very least, he would have a place among them. Not every man went on to create their own family... She thought too far ahead, but her mind could not help but drift in that direction when it came to her cubs. It was no matter; she and her mate would do all they could for him. And when he was able to, he would take it from there.