
It was a well known fact that her father didn't care much about keeping the lines pure, he would take any mare that caught his eye. Fathom was much like her father in the sense that she could be a very convincing mare when it came to playing nice to get what she wanted.
The day was beginning to slow down as the sun began to set. Thankfully the heat was fading just as quickly as the sun was. She was just inside the treeline, soon it would be time to hunt. The small mammals would be making their way home for the night... the perfect meal for a hungry mare.