child-friendly? what's that?

The dark child slipped mutely behind his siblings, heeding his mother's summons like a good little boy. He settled down on his rump amidst his siblings, tucked his ivory tipped tail about his little paws to stave off the chill. Eyes still transitioning from cerulean to sage were fixated upon the woman who'd whelped them all, an eerie stare that sparkled with wordless intensity. He mimicked the soft, musical rumble she uttered in greeting, and that was all. Dark auds shoved forward as she commanded their attention with barely more than a look, a good little soldier listening to his commander. She assured them that strength was the only thing that would separate him from those beasts who fought and died beyond the borders, and without strength he would die as easily as they did.

The highlight of the latticed scars that littered her frame narrowed his ceaseless gaze, eerie eyes tracing the curvature of rippling musculature and windswept pelage to follow their tracks across her bodice. The promise of their countless tales of survival drew a kind of subconscious salivation to his consciousness that he had not previously encountered, a desperate hunger to understand. So he watched, tracked her slow strides to encircle the group in a predatory, calculating motion intended to draw and maintain their attention. She explained that when she was their age, she was a pitiful creature that withered beneath her own skin and struggled for scraps. A subtle curl of dark lips, something akin to rage that might fester beneath the skin. There and gone in a flash. He greedily accepted the gentle caress of her muzzle against his neck, leaned into it without hesitation. His mother wanted him to be strong, and so he would be strong. Unquestioningly, without acceptance of potential failure. Indica would become everything his mother craved for him.