Little Goat Mountain I never trust a narcissist

From his mother, only rumbles. Words, if they were, he couldn't make them out just yet. But to see the delight in her face and the warmth of her gaze, he knew that she was pleased, and that satisfied him.
But when the grueling sounds of his littermate drum within his ear, the attention upon his mother is lost. They both look upon his sister. And when she is set between their mothers feet, Ashkova wastes not another moment to waddle close and initiate the first of many tussles. 
For now, only a playfight. But the fiery urge within him to tear away skin and drain away blood tells him that such an act will grow to be more someday in the future.