From my message of the original owner:

“Sure thing! Weeping Willows is actually a character meant for medieval Equestria. She also has a more modern day form, but that’s for specific roleplays. The modernized one is a skeleton nicknamed Giggles Ghosty. She’s one of my main original characters, and her back story - both as a skeleton and while alive exist on the sites I roleplay as her, at.

Anyway, thanks for showing the interest. Here’s the basic backstory I had developed for Weeping while she was still alive.

Weeping Willows, like many others, was born into a war she wanted no part of. Unlike the foals born under the rule of the cocky pegasi, the furious earth ponies, and the elitist unicorns however, she was born into a village that maintained utmost neutrality between the three factions. The village was a small one, even by the standards of other villages. It’s population hardly broke fifty, and was comprised of four buildings. While the unnamed village was quaint and humble, adventurers and wanderers for hundreds of miles around would often speak about the small location betwixt the boundaries of the three factions. The subject often spoken of with such fondness when they told their tales of the village was that of their tavern, The Rusted Bit.

In the middle of the harsh wilderness, The Rusted Bit was like a beacon for weary and exhausted ponies. The warm fire, freshly cooked feasts, and goblets full of mead were just the remedy for the cold winds brought on from a passing Windigo. The warm faces and jaunty tunes brought on by the tavern’s drunkards were often all it took to wipe a frown from a pony’s face, and in turn helped all of them to forget about the inevitable war the three factions spiraled towards. Among the full bellies, smiling faces, and staunch scent of booze; Weeping Willows, an entertainer, lived.

She was a friendly, albeit odd and quirky sort of pony. She had a foal’s curiosity, and with that she was gullible to an extent as well. Her willingness to believe just about anything caused her endless fascination with the tales and legends woven by the adventurers and merchants that stumbled upon her little slice of home. A result of her fascination was that she was often dragged into just about any odd conspiracy she overheard, and would struggle to find any information she could about it without hesitating to believe anything she read. Due to this fascination, her mind was always caught in an imaginative state. She was always pondering a potential theory or two of her own, and somehow, these theories were often believable (Even if only somewhat).

Not many knew that side of her however. To those who visited the tavern, they knew her as a simple songstress who did her best to make ends meet. Even if she was naive to an extent, she did her best to see the good in everypony and creature, even if they didn’t deserve it. She loved everything, and did her best put a smile on any creature’s face, especially if they were feeling down. To others, she was just a pony doing her best to show others that not all ponies were driven by war.

Behind closed doors, however, she had a much darker side that almost none knew of.

She was a pony stricken with grief over the losses the hatred between the three factions brought. Though the tavern rarely hinted at it, most ponies were in one way or another affected by the skirmishes between the three pony races. Weeping Willows wasn’t traumatized by the loss of a family member, however, she was brought to tears thinking of all the lives that had been harmed and/or changed by their actions. During the time she spent listening to the adventures of others, she had once overheard stories of ponies able to bring the dead back to life. The thought of being able to reverse the damage brought on by the swiftly approaching war.

With time, she would devour any information she could.
With time, she would amass a small library on necromancy.
With time, she would become more powerful.”