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// Mourning 
// Story: Tears for Mercy 
// by daOtterGuy 
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It was quiet. Silence only achieved by the dead. A sickly blue mist permeated the entirety of the village. At its center, sitting upon the well, was Meadowbrook. Tears flowed freely from her eyes as she surveyed the scene with a blissful smile. Mist still hissed and smoked from the surface of the water behind her.

She drew a reed-woven cloak tightly around her. She had found it back in the grove. It had been on the skeletal remains of an unknown pony. Pale blue flowers grew around her head like a crown, their roots firmly borrowed into her body. 

A tune came to mind. One she’d shared with her wife many times.

Meadowbrook hummed the first few bars as the morning sun rose. It bathed its light upon the village, tinging the mist orange. The peaceful forms of dead ponies lay all around the village, fallen just over the threshold of their abodes in their hurry to escape.

Saviour. It felt good to say. She’d brung sweet dreams to all of the residents of her village. No more would they need to fear the disease. Now, they were at peace, content in their sleep. But it was not enough. There were more in horrible pain that she had to save. It was her resolve, born from clarity of purpose.

As Meadowbrook hummed the melody and thought back to sunny days, Somnus whispered in her ear, its roots twitching and cracking as they burrowed further inside of her.