Plotting My Farewell (One Shot)

>Night Respite Is Another Word for Quitting in Equestria
>Be Anonymous the Fossor
>The bell tower strikes midnight as you rise from your wooden bunk
>You stretch sleepily as you prop yourself up on your elbows and look out the small glass window
>It is drizzling tonight, but work is work
>You wash your sore body over with a bucket of cool water before grabbing your gear
>Lantern, shovel, a few pouches, and your fine pair of dirt encrusted boots
>Stepping outside, you hold the light out before you and plod through the softening ground
>You contemplate how the ground will be that much easier to move tonight and take some comfort in the thought
>The rain continues, steady as it is, and you sigh at the grey world around you
>Solid stones jut up from the very earth and tall, limestone mausoleums sit atop the necropolis as if waiting for a soul to come knocking
>You shine your lamp over a smooth, smaller headstone and read the titles in your head
>Mayberry the Earthen, May Your Basket Always Be Full
>You smile at the finely carved words and wonder who Mayberry might have been
>In your spare time, you often find yourself daydreaming of how important a pony was based upon how elaborate their gravesite is
>It is a silly thought, but you have them all the time
>What you don't often have is company, you think, as you look down the slopes to the lower fields
>With heavy boot steps, you descend to the new plot and take your shovel in your hand
>The night is cool, thanks in part to the rain, and you whistle a merry little tune to yourself while you work
"When ye find your bones are aching and your hooves are awfully stressed, then it's time to find a nice bed and get ready for some rest. Ye may walk far with cart in tow, but someday, we all must go. To the Great Fairground to meet our friends, where the stories never end..."
>You don't recall who first recited this song or why you listened, but it's pretty catchy
>The hole grows wider under your expect hands as you lift shovelful after shovelful out of the way
>A silence hangs over the graveyard tonight as you work and you slightly miss the chirp of crickets and hum of the beetles
>You happily break through the loamy soil when you hear the sounds of hoof beats on cobblestone
>There is no scheduled service tonight, you hesitate to imagine, and you grow curious
>Pulling yourself from the grave, you hold your lantern out to see if you can catch a glimpse of the creator of the sound
>The rain obscures your sight, but you think you can see a faint outline just over the hill
>You stab your shovel into the ground and begin your hike
>As you approach, you can hear the sound of a scream and then running hooves disappearing into the distance
>You catch sight of a pony's tail as it races behind a tombstone
>The sound of something tripping and then faintly sobbing rises into the thick air
>Rounding the corner, you find a small filly with dirt on her face and rain slicking back her mane
>She looks up at you with some expression between utter fear and true horror
>You bring your lantern around to get a better view and the pony winces
>The mare is the first to speak with a dry, frightened voice
>"Please don't eat me, oh Celestia, please, please!"
>You listen to the pleading for a while and try to figure out what this filly is talking about
>"I swear I'll never sneak sugar cubes before supper again!"
>Having not learned anything other than this filly is a bit of a troublemaker, you hold out your hand
"Enough! What are you doing in my graveyard?"
>"I-I-I..."
"Speak!"
>She does so without pause for breath
>"I was playing Truth or Dare with my friends and they dared me to come here and they said a pony-eating ghoul lived here and then we all came and saw you and they ran and I fell and now you're questioning me..."
>She gasps for air as your head spins from so much useless information
>"And, oh my gosh! You are the pony-eating ghoul! I thought it was just an old mare's tale!"
>You shake your dizzy head and try to speak sense
"I am not a pony-eating ghoul."
>"But, your skin is so pale and you smell like week old trash and your teeth are so sharp and..."
>You roll your eyes and scowl
"Look, you..."
>"My name's Rosewood."
"Great... Look, Rosewood... This is a cemetery. It is for the dead to get some rest. You do not belong here."
>"So... So, you're not going to eat me?"
"No! Stop asking me! Go home and tell your hooligan friends to stay away from these grounds!"
>You watch the unicorn stand up before falling to one leg
>"Ouch! Ohh, my knee hurts."
>Rosewood holds out her leg and you look over it
>It is a little red and a bit swollen, a sprain if ever you've seen one
>You think for a moment before reaching down for the little pony
>She winces again, but you manage to hold her safely in your arms
>"Thanks, Mr. Ghoul."
"My name is Anonymous. I am not a ghoul, I just work here."
>"Oh, wow... How did you get a job like that?"
"Very carefully..."
>You begin to head back to your domicile under the church as Rosewood continues her mad ranting
>"What are you suppose to be anyways? I never seen a pony like you before."
"I am not a pony. I am a human."
>"Hyu-min... Huh, weird."
>She chuckles lightly in your arms and now you are sure she is a little loopy
>"So, Mr. Hyu-min, why do you dig holes? Is that your cutie mark, hole digger?"
"I dig holes because it is my job."
>"Oh, I see... But, what if it wasn't your job."
"Then I probably wouldn't do it."
>She stops for a moment as you lift your lantern into the air
>You listen carefully as a peel of thunder interrupts the silence and you count slowly
>The rain begins to pick up speed on strong winds and your face is whipped by the icy blobs
>Turning your back, you pace away from the storm with Rosewood tucked into your jacket
>"Whoa, the weather team really did a great job on this hurricane..."
>Your eyes snap to and you yelp
"Hurricane!?"
>"Yep, didn't you get the letter last week?"
>You don't get mail since that incident at the post office
>It really should stated that you cannot mail embalming fluid and coffin nails
>You even tried to apologize for the smell, but they still refuse to accept your business
>Rosewood calls out to you as you daydream about your mistakes
>"So, do you live in the ground? Are you like a gopher?"
"Go for what?"
>You finally make it to your door on the outside of the church and open the cellar wide
>It takes a little maneuvering, but you manage to get the door closed against the wind without dropping either the pony or the lantern
>Descending the short staircase, you gently rest the lantern on a table and lay the pony on your bed
>"Whoa, this is like... Your home? It looks so normal..."
"I am normal."
>"If you're so normal, why don't you walk around on four hooves, huh?"
"I am normal... For a human."
>Rain beats at your small window now to the point where you cannot see anything outside
>The sound of wind rushes around the cellar doors and claws at the thin, wooden frame
"I think you'll have to stay the night."
>"Uh, sure. So, you got anything to munch on around here?"
>You look around the small room before heading to the dry storage
>A few apples and a bag of potatoes is all you have left and you ponder if you should restock next time you are near town
>Taking the bag on your back, you reappear before Rosewood
"I have some fruit for snacking and I can boil potatoes for dinner."
>She chuckles lightly before resting her body on your blankets
>"I don't eat that kind of stuff."
"What do you want?"
>"Something yummy, like um, well... Like a steak? Extra lean, red, juicy. That kind of thing!"
>Your stomach growls angrily for the first time in forever
>You haven't hear talk of red meat since you arrived to this place of Equestria and you were sure no pony would ever eat red meat
"-You- like red meat?"
>"Well, not the meat so much, just the red."
>She smiles and her sharp teeth glisten in the glow of the lantern
>In all your years, you have never seen a pony like here before
"What are you exactly?"
>"A pony, silly!"
"What kind of pony drinks blood?"
>"A bat pony, duh?"
>She sticks her tongue out at you and you stare at her with a great interest
"Well, I don't have anything like that here. Haven't had a good steak in a long time now."
>"Oh, but I'm hungry!"
"I only have what I have."
>She eyes you up and down quickly
>"Well, you're not a pony, right? So, maybe, well, if you think it would be OK."
"Are you asking to drink my blood?"
>"What? No, of course not! Unless, you were going to be into that..."
>You stare hard at the little mare before you and think hard
>The winds pick up again and you can hear the rattling of the metal handles on your cellar door
"Storm's getting bad and... Oh, damn it! My shovel is still out there!"
>"Don't worry, I know a pony who sells loads of shovels in town!"
"That is -my- shovel, though. It can't be replaced."
>"What, are you poor or something?"
"No, it just has special significance to me."
>"How can a shovel be special?"
"It was a gift."
>Rosewood stops and looks at you with wide, almost understanding eyes for the moment
>"I like you, Anon, you're silly."
>You simply sigh and pull a pot over to your stove before filling it with water
>The burning ignites and the small flame gives off a fairly pleasing warmth
>You hardly notice how cold this place is some nights
>Rosewood, on the other hand, crawls under some blankets and curls up tightly with her injured leg exposed
"One moment, I think I have some bandages left."
>As the water boils, you look in a cabinet to find a few feet of cloth left
>You take a cup of fresh water from your reserve and casually approach your guest
"Let me see your leg..."
>"OK, see it?"
>She giggles and kicks one leg out from under the blankets
"Your hurt leg, I meant."
>"Wow, you're going to really help me out with this? I don't know what my friends were thinking when they said you were a scary, mean, pony-eating ghoul."
>You almost want to laugh at your portrayal, but kids will be kids after all
>It takes a few moments to wash her leg clean and she groans, but you manage to wrap the abrasion with little resistance
>"Just wait 'til I tell everyp0ny how nice you are. Even if they have to hold their noses."
"You are a strange pony."
>"I am? How many ponies do you know?"
>She has you on that point
>Aside from the religious leader and one other groundskeeper, you don't know anyone around
"So, about this steak... Do you often have that for dinner?"
>"Not really, only when we have the luck to find a good deal."
"You say, 'We', do you mean your family?"
>"Yep, my mother and me. You're pretty good at guessing stuff."
>You move to the water and add some salt and the last few scrapes of pepper before dropping in a handful of small potatoes
>"Mmm, that smells so good. Most ponies don't eat steak either, but you're not a pony. I like the juicy blood, what about you?"
"Not just blood, but a steak cooked to pink is a treat. Also, you're welcome to have a few."
>Thunder strikes again and you hear the booming sound close by
>What a night for a storm
>The bat pony lies on her side for the moment before shifting to her back
>"Hey, Anon?"
"Yes?"
>"You work in a graveyard a lot... Where do you think a pony goes when it passes on?"
>This question confounds you for the moment
>Clearly, it is a serious question and one you should take with consideration
"In the ground, physically. What do you believe happens?"
>"I don't know? Mom said that you go to a beautiful place where they eat steak everyday and it's always perfect. She said you'd see all your old friends and family members too."
>Rosewood's eyes seem to soften in the dim light and her pupils round off
"That sounds like a lovely way to end a life."
>You nod as sagely as you can while stirring the pot
>"Did you ever know somep0ny who died?"
"A few, but not nearly as well as I could have."
>"Did it hurt?"
"It always hurts to lose someone, especially if you love them."
>"Mom said it happens to everyp0ny someday. It's part of being alive, you know? Like, you can't be alive and not dead or else you would never know what it was to be alive!"
>That almost makes sense in some strange, mottled way
"Yes, but tonight, we have living to do. Let's talk about something else."
>"My birthday's tomorrow..."
>She smirks at you quickly
>"What would you like to get me for my birthday?"
"A bowl of soup..."
>You scoop some warm, potato flavoured water into a clay bowl and place it to one side
>Rosewood easily takes it in her magic as she lays on her side again
>With her spoon, she digs into the soft skin and pulls out a fleshy lump of white, starchy potato
>It disappears into her mouth and she makes a delightful little squeaking noise
>"You're a good cook, Anon!"
>You begin munching on your own dinner as the room grows lively with the sounds of chewing and slurping
>As the night wears on and the storm beats at your small window, Rosewood and you share stories and memories
>"My mom is just the best. She's so smart and a great cook and her mane always smells like strawberries! She said we can go to the carnival for my birthday and get a huge stick of cotton candy!"
>You chuckle to yourself at the excited little filly
>A yawn does finally escape her as the warm meal begins to take its effect on her tired body
>"This is your bed, right?"
"Yes, but, you can sleep there tonight."
>You remove your coat and most of your heavier clothing as yourself for the night
>"Where will you sleep?"
"Any place, it's not a problem."
>She lays her head down and lets go a deep, pleasant sigh
>"Thanks, Anon, you're really nice. Tomorrow, when I see my mom, I'll tell her to invite you over for dinner. She won't mind because she loves me..."
>Without much warning, the little mare slips into slumber
>You watch the short rise and fall of the blankets piled upon her and smile wearily
>It does not take you long to fall asleep when the only companion left is the rain beating on your windowsill

>Day Skiing On Clouds in Equestria
>Be Anonymous
>You awake to a serene morning, which is unusual as you usually sleep during the day
>The last thing you remember was falling asleep on the floor beside an injured filly
>You lift your head up to bed level to see an empty pile of blankets and imagine the energetic ball of fur must be outside already
>It also dawns on you that you should probably find your shovel while you have the daylight
>You don your gear and stomp out of your cellar on heavy boots
>The scene outside if quite nasty as you see so much dirt and debris covering the once shining gravestones
>Cleaning it up would certainly help, but you still have a shovel to rescue
>You plod through the still muddy grounds as you cross between headstones and down the hill
>The plot you were digging the other day is still intact and you look around for your shovel
>It doesn't seem to be in the hole where you left it, no doubt blown to some other part of the cemetery
>You hear the sound of Steady Step, a church official, on the grassy knoll above and climb the steep quickly
>He is standing on the road with another mare that you do not recognize immediately
>She has fangs and a curly, red mane with small, dark dots randomly distributed around it
>"Oh, hello, Anonymous, you are out early this morning. I was just meeting with Ms. Cherrywood..."
>The name seems to bring a memory back to you as you think of the little mare
"W-what is she doing here?"
>You point rudely at her and shake a little
>Steady looks to you with a scowl and raises his voice
>"Anon, manners! She is going through a lot right now."
>Your breathing is heavy as your mind races
"Sir, have you seen a little filly running around the grounds this morning? She has a red mane, very energetic, talks endlessly about whatever is on her mind?"
>The older mare before you looks up with wide eyes
>"That sounds like my Rosewood..."
"That is here name! I had here with me last night during the storm!"
>Cherrywood narrows her eyes in disbelief
>"Why would you say such a horrible thing?"
"What? No! She was with me, we talked about her birthday. It's today! You are suppose to be taking her to the carnival!"
>The mare breaks down into tears as you speak and Steady Step looks at you angrily
"I know she was here last night! I carried her in from the storm and bandaged her leg!"
>Cherrywood looks to you with tired, teary eyes
>"My daughter died last night from an infected leg. You couldn't possible have know that..."
>A chill runs up your spine as you think about what happened the previous night
"Where is she to be laid to rest?"
>As Steady Step turns his head, you already know where he is looking
>The unfinished plot that you were interrupted from sits peacefully down the slope and you look back to the distraught mare
>"S-she never spoke about you..."
>The mare points to you quickly
"She couldn't have, we only met for the first time last night. I... I don't know what to say..."
>You forget yourself for the moment and kneel down with your arms wide open
>The mare accepts you willingly as she cries into your filthy coat
"Rosewood... She said that she loves you so much, that you are the best mother anyone could have."
>"Why? Why did she come to you in her last moments?"
"I think... Maybe, she was just scared of leaving. Like... Like she didn't know what to expect..."
>That doesn't make any sense, but you try to go along with it
"I'm sorry, Cherrywood, I am very sorry. Rosewood loved you so much, you need to believe that much."
>You hear the clang of heavy metal hitting the ground behind your group and you all turn at once
>Your shovel seems to fall out from behind a gravestone, but it is curiously dry and free of debris
>An idea forms in your mind to go reach for it and you are greeted by the voice of the late Rosewood
>"Hey, Anon! Guess what? They have cotton candy on a stick as big as my head..."
>The shovel slides towards you quickly and you snatch it up
>Rosewood's form appears before you and you look down to her
>"... Thank you for being so nice last night. I didn't know where I was going, but you helped me calm down and get some rest. The soup was really good too!"
>She peaks from around your body and waves her hoof
>"Oh, hi, mommy!"
>You see the mare standing in a stupor as she lifts one hoof slowly
>"Guess who I found? Go on, guess!"
>Cherrywood says nothing as a large, grey stallion materializes beside Rosewood
>He smiles warmly to Cherrywood and she cries harder than before
>The stallion walks casually to her with Rosewood skipping by her side
>"Hello, sweetfang, it's been so long."
>You hear sputtering, sobbing sounds from Cherrywood as the stallion and filly embrace her
>They kiss her and wave goodbye before silently vanishing from wherever they came
"I'm... Not sure..."
>"By the moon, my husband and daughter... I thought I'd never get to say goodbye. Thank you, stranger. Thank you for bringing them to me for one last hug..."
>She cries harder and you hug her closely
>"... This i-is the h-h-happiest day of my-y-y life!"
>You don't know what to do now, so you do nothing
>As you know, everyone has a story
>Some are just a little harder to explain than others