Mino

It grazes the tough, heat-adapted scrub of the volcanic slopes, charring it first with a snort of flame to make it palatable, and it defends its patch with a hot-headed readiness far out of proportion to its size. Those smoldering horns are both weapon and warning, brightening when the creature is roused, and a threatened Mino lowers them and charges with a boldness that startles much larger creatures into retreat. It is quarrelsome even with its own kind, and a slope of young Mino is a slope of small, smoking tantrums, forever squaring off, charging, and forgetting why.