The condemned mare grimaced, and was about to speak when the sheriff cut her off. "Darlin', yer case is closed an' yer fate's sealed. Ain't no sense re-arguin' th' muddle. 'Sides, it's almost noon. Make yer peace."
Barn Swallow looked up at the sun, then bowed awkwardly, a gesture she found difficult without a left foreleg. "I go now t' be with a one Ah loved an' lost too soon. She ain't nowheres th' sunlight can show her, an' soon I won't be neither. May sun's justice at high noon rejoin dam an' foal--"
The first bell of noon rang, and a pegasus flew up to the gallows. She wore a black sack over her head and her Mark. She stood beside the lever, wings raised ceremonially as her warrior ancestors did before battle.
Barn Swallow couldn't be still. She shoved at her restraints. "Flannel Patch, my darlin', my dear," she cried, swinging her head back and forth, the clock tower chiming in the distance, "Ah'm a'comin' fer you, baby girl, yer Momma's comin'! Heavens nor earth nor alicorn law can keep--"
The black-hooded pegasus thrust her hoof forward as the final bell tolled.
Applejack closed her eyes and listened to the crowd gasp, murmur, and after minutes, walk away.