He who is Death

The Upcoming

"Doth not be afraid, f'r I am Death, the compass'r of peace and destruction. I boweth to nay oth'rs but myself. Lendeth me thy handeth, so I may leadeth thou to thy peace." I whispered into the young stallions ear. I have said this many times before to many others who I had to take to there peace or if it may be, there destruction. My voice was a dark, unearthly tone that would scare any who heard my speech but only the ones I take can hear me, and to them I am there salvation. I am currently standing over a stallion by the name of Cloud Sweeper; a Pegasus stallion that has an orange coat that seemed to shine in the sunlight, a mane and tail of a light red that was splayed out in a mess, and a cutie mark of a cloud that appears to be getting swept away from a sweeper with wings wrapped around it. Mr. Sweeper here was trying to impress some mares by doing a few light tricks in the air when he lost control and landed into the paved road beneath him, successfully breaking his neck in two separate locations. Ponies from all directions were rushing to the Pegasus, but it did not matter. Sweeper was officially a, "Fallen One", a soul that has perished well before it's intended time. He looked to me with wide eyes and tears falling to the ground, though they did not leave a wet mark on the ground. We were in the planes between the living and the dead, where no other ponies could see  or here us. We are but a shadow in this realm, a whisper in the wind.