Upon reaching the first sad, withered corpse- chest all but obliterated in the mighty strike it had received- Mori sighed, kneeling down and examining the poor warrior. After a few moments, she stood, and, with a motion, drew back her hood and obtained Durandos from her side. As she did so, her mane and tail seemed to lose form- where it once appeared almost as if it were loosely contained, it now was almost entirely replaced with a very light mist that spread across the ground, losing much of it's mass. It still existed, of course- a large, coalescent blob still was attached to her in the likeness of a mane, but unlike the others, it appeared as if something... shifted within it.
She could not handle this task alone, after all, without her newfound acquaintances being just as skeletal as the ones he was about to bury. An army of ghosts and spirits manifested before her, invisible to all except her. After some collaboration with each other, they began quietly tracing out plans through the forest, framing perfect three by five plots for every body in sight, spaced a foot apart from each other and placed wherever they could be while also looking decent and allowing sufficient space for travelers to move through freely- including a rather wide space between the two sides.
After about fifty of them had been planned, Mori quietly approached the first site, stretched, and, with the assistance of several companions, began her grim duty, a shadowy claw holding a small black prayer book open as Mori began to dig. As she began, several groups also began- onlookers would see as if nature itself was moving the various corpses into alignment, documenting what they could amongst themselves, before allowing the corpse to sink into the earth, clearing blades of bloodstained grass as they did so- leaving an almost picturesque grave, missing only a tombstone. They moved on, the six or seven groups manipulating nature to bury a corpse with the proper blessings in as little as thirty seconds a body. Mori, despite moving much slower than the others, acted as the center point of their efforts, chanting in a low voice so accented one couldn't make out what was being said.
@Hazard Time,@Driz, @P-Jay,
While this occurred, a shadowy figure manifested, lounging on Mori's back. It was a pony in appearance, but was composed of the same coagulation of mist that composed her hair, and, instead of hooves, it instead had claws- in fact, it's left rear one was the one holding the prayer book for Mori. "Too bad we don't have more time to spare," the shadowy mare stated in the same ghastly echoing voice as before, if slightly quieter. "What do you think we could accomplish here if we were able to cut, say, a row of trees? A pretty little line of graves at least. This archaic spread will have to do, I suppose... I must say, I fear for your safety should this fellow still happen to exist as a visible specter such as myself. What kind of warrior is able to put this many to slaughter, no matter how skilled he is? Definitely nopony of natural origin."
As the specter talked, Mori began to move forwards at a slow pace, working as quickly as she dared while still maintaining the lead. Glancing around, it continued. "Perhaps in a few years from now, when grass grows over, this place will be even prettier with the natural grass woven in with the bloodstains. Or perhaps it will grow back red; that would certainly be interesting as well. Either way, with how many bodies are being displaced and considering the nature with which so many have perished, I'll be quite surprised if nothing particularly... paranormal, as you ponies may call it, happens. Other than what is already occurring, of course, but you need not to worry yourselves about that. You may wish to draw your armaments, especially if enchanted, in case a... negative response is invoked."