I shivered in the gray and wet daw, tightening the cloak around my shoulders. I was getting old, too old for this, and I would soon have to find somepony else to share the Burden. There were a couple of candidates in Ponyville, but it was a difficult choice to make. I needed more time, I— The flock of sparrows left the roof of the house, a whirlwind of wings fluttering and not a single chirp. It was time. I sighed and hitched my cart on my back. Knowing it was coming never made it easier, and the farmhouse felt like an eternity away as I walked up to it. Rows upon rows of trees on each side stood silent, mourning, ignoring me as they should. I left the cart in front of the main entrance and pushed the door open. The hinges had been oiled, a little courtesy I appreciated, made me feel less like an intruder, helped me with my role. One would think that after all these years I had become used to it, and yet I still tensed with each squeaking door or creaking floor. That would be something I hoped my successor learned better than me. Maybe I should start early, make sure they would get it while young. We are not intruders, we play no part in the pain. That's what I repeated myself while, not for the first time, longing to be a pegasus. It was so easy for them, I bet they didn't even have undertakers. As I walked through the kitchen I heard a whimper coming from the next room. I pulled down the veil covering my face and adjusted the cloak. A brief look at myself to be sure it fell right and covered every part of me, and then I walked on. The siblings sat on the sofa, Applejack hiding her face in Mac's side. The colt stoically glared at the floor in front of him, not moving a muscle. I remembered when I helped bring him into this world, just a small bundle of red fur and powerful lungs. It broke my heart looking at him, but this was not the time for me to offer condolences or comfort. Granny Smith was in her rocking chair, a yellow foal held tight, her lips a thin line and her eyes locked on something behind me. It was good to know you could always be sure of her being proper. The little filly babbled and reached with a hoof to me. She was too young to understand, too young to know the traditions. She too would learn to not see me. The rags I bound around my hooves helped me feel like I wasn't really there. It was so strange how easy it was to ignore something when we couldn't hear it. I glanced briefly over my shoulders before climbing the stairs. I would leave form the back door, even if it meant I had to work harder. I had forgotten about lil'Bloom, and it wouldn't be good for her to see the vessel. She was too young to understand. Leaving my cart in front of the house had been stupid. I reached the room, I knew where it was, I had been here before. So many times before. Pear Butter's body laid on the bed, eyes open and empty, a glass on the carpet in the middle of a damp spot. I already missed her, her and Bright Mac. I glanced over my shoulder to be sure of being alone, then reached for the body and pulled it from the bed to lift it on my back. It was lighter than Pear Butter had ever been, a small blessing in this day. The way back down and out felt easier. Seeing the corpse devoid of anything that had made my friend what she was helped me to put some needed distance between me and my role. It always did, and yet I never remembered. It was frustrating. I threw the body in the cart and hitched myself in again. Time to bring it out in the forest and get rid of it, then I would have time to mourn too, to offer comfort to those who remained and to truly accept that my friend would never return. As I walked, I thought again about whom could be the next carrier of the Burden.