child-friendly? what's that?

Like a rising crescendo, his mother reached the apex of the lesson. She bestowed her wisdom upon them readily, but mercilessly. There were no metaphorical punches pulled (thankfully, Absinth didn't seem to be in the habit of punching her children). He nodded along as she insisted that they all utilize their own strengths in order to survive, regardless of what type of strength or what avenue they chose. To never let their primal urge to survive be stolen or weakened by any means. The dark furred boy was eager, though he wasn't certain what for. The promise to fight, and bleed, and endure the brutality of existence... he wanted that. He wanted to make sure it happened, partly for himself and partly for his mother. She wanted him to be strong, and he wanted so badly to be strong, cunning, powerful so that he could feel the radiant warmth of pride and love.

The assurance that his strength was his only bulwark against the onslaught of the world around him, that it should be cultivated and harnessed. His mother was relentless in pummeling it into his young brain, that he might never forget the value of his own fortitude. He writhed with barely contained energy and emotion as his mother commanded he assert his will upon this life and turn it into a winning game. Tiny fangs peeked out from behind dark lips as a half smile, half snarl formed upon his cherubic features. Yes! Make it his bitch! (What did that mean?)

Sage tinted gaze drifted from the radiant physique of his mother, to the assembled youngsters around him. Mostly siblings, littermates and the like. They were all going to become strong, and their wills would be unbreakable.