A request by Latrans:
Field medic during Nightmare Moon's rebellion sees a mailmare delivering letters on the battlefield. Its Death collecting the fallen.
“Excuse me!” The grey mare shouted to be heard over the roar of artillery. Down in his foxhole, Private First Class Sea Wash stared in disbelief. The mare didn’t show the slightest fear at the explosions tearing up the earth around them, and there wasn’t a speck of dirt on her uniform. She looked like the mailmare “up the way” -- small, cute, and professional. Her only notable feature was her eyes didn’t point the same way. One looked at him, and one off into the distance.
Behind her, another explosion sent a volcano of dirt flying into the air. A mare screamed, and then went silent. “Excuse me,” she shouted louder. “Are you Sea Wash?”
“Yes,” Sea Wash said, not daring to raise his voice. “Are you…?”
“I’m a courier!” She extended a clipboard with a form. “Sign here to acknowledge delivery.”
He signed. She handed him a letter from her bag. With shaking teeth, he ripped it open.
“Dear Princess Twilight,” he read aloud. “I’m glad to hear you had such a fun weekend with your…” Lapsing into silence, he finished the letter. Then he held it up. “This isn’t for me!”
“Huh,” said Twilight. She read the letter aloud: “Private First Class Sea Wash, killed in action, 44th day of Summer 211.”
After checking that there was no more writing on the back, she frowned. “I wonder what—”
It was that moment that a stray artillery shell flew through her window.