You’re big and strong now, son, so I think you’re ready to hear this: Soon it will be time for us to fight for dominance. The winner gets the right to continue the family lineage with your mother. Meaning that my wife—your mom—was my mother before this. There were three sons before you; I defeated them all. However, I’m nearly six rotations old now, with my fur already turning pale. Our role is simply to fertilize the matriarch, then crawl into a mosscave and pass on. I realize this may sound odd or disturbing, but it’s just how nature works.