A Hearth's Warming CarolMore Like This
Scrimper was dead, to begin with.
Even within the walls of this old building, the cold air outside was making it's way inside, rendering the place borderline freezing. The sun was already setting outside and that, coupled with the very small number of lit candles, created a very dour tone for this place. But then, being a funeral, that was perhaps appropriate. The hall it was taking place in was almost completely empty, a stark contrast to how most might want such a ceremony to be. The only ponies that could be seen were the minister, an elderly unicorn, the stallions carrying the casket, and a solitary earth pony stallion standing to one side. As one might expect, all were dressed in black, and as the pall bearers set the casket down at the end of the hall, the minister finally finished reciting his words, no doubt practiced many times. Words of farewell to the one who had passed on.
When those words were spoken however, he looked upon the lone stallion, who had been standing quietly