The Vulture's Coinflip

by Odd_Sarge

Tails

The moon’s silhouette braved the sky. The distinct ‘moon mare’ shadow was merely a telltale glint. And best of all, a warm breeze clocked against the sky above Saddle Lake. It was a good, clear, bright night for flying.

At least, Scootaloo hoped they were all good omens. It was either good, or bad.

She nervously kicked at the pebbles by the water’s edge. She didn’t usually leave her home at this point in the evening, and she definitely didn’t leave town. She could at least be certain that tonight was going to be an especially memorable one... whenever Rainbow Dash appeared.

Scootaloo glanced up at the sky back toward Ponyville. “C’mon...”

“Found you!”

A quick dash of air sent Scootaloo spinning and tumbling away from the water’s edge. “R-Rainbow Dash!”

“Hey, squirt. What’s up?” The fast flier touched down against the ground, folding her wings neatly. “I didn’t spook you, did I?”

“N-nah.” She graciously took the offered hoof from Rainbow. “You’re just so fast that you knocked me down.”

“Heh. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, it was awesome.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” She looked over her withers at the water, then back to Scootaloo. “So, where we headed?”

“Uh... Vulture’s Cove?”

“Vulture’s what?”

Scootaloo was speechless. “...Um.”

“Ha! You should see the look on your face, squirt!” Rainbow Dash belted out a quick laugh. “I’m just messing with you.” She stood from her hunched laugh, and trot toward Scootaloo. “Now, c’mon. Are you a saddler, or are you a pony who likes the view from below?”

“What’s a ‘saddler’?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Rainbow Dash backed up beside Scootaloo, and crouched down. “See all that space between my wings? Get up on my back.”

Scootaloo did a double-take. “Wait, really?”

Rainbow Dash puffed. “Uh, yeah.”

“Is that safe?”

“Ha! Danger is my middle name! And don’t you forget it, squirt!”

“But I—”

“Oh, come on, Scoots! I’ll keep you safe. I’m not going to take chances with you. I promise.”

Scoots... Scootaloo really liked that nickname. “O-okay, here I go...”

Scrambling up her hero’s back, the giddiness fostering in Scootaloo all day swam back up from the depths of her worries. Just past the twin cerulean ears and spill of rainbow mane, the teal and violet night sky gleamed back at her, twinkling with stars. The breeze from below felt even better up on Rainbow Dash’s back, and as the pegasus below her stood fully, Scootaloo’s heart soared.

Scootaloo finagled herself into a position where her hindlegs hooked around the base of Rainbow Dash’s wings, and forelegs draped over her withers.

“Comfortable?” Rainbow Dash asked, flexing her stretched wings.

“Uh...”

She shifted. Even with how uncomfortable this position might be in the long-term, Scootaloo wasn’t about to get down and get herself picked up. Next time, she would ask to be held.

Next time... the very thought helped seal everything into place.

“Yeah, it’s perfect.”

“Aw, yeah!” Rainbow Dash took a few experimental steps forward. “Hold on tight. I’ll have you at the cove in no time!”

And in a blink of an eye, Scootaloo found herself flying.

Her stumpy little wings had no reflexive reaction to the sudden takeoff, but they twitched with each little beat of Scootaloo’s adrenaline-filled heart. Within moments of touching off of the Saddle Lake beach, Scootaloo was filled to the brim with joy.

So very rare was flying for her, that flying above the water like this... it may well have been akin to being crowned a princess.

Yes, with Rainbow Dash as her guide, Scootaloo truly felt purpose invite itself back into her body.

“Woohoo!”

In reply, Rainbow Dash skimmed at the water below. It was an incredibly fine touch, and just as brief, but it was enough to send up a spray of lakewater into her wings, where it formed into a harmless mist around Scootaloo.

This was everything. She could have turned right around with Rainbow Dash right now. Gone straight to the steps of the Ponyville Schoolhouse, and passed out from joy right there. Woken up just in time for show and tell, and delivered a story about the joys of flight.

And instead...

It passed in seconds.

The whistle of the wind died sharply as Rainbow Dash’s hooves thud against the earth.

“Alright, squirt, you can get down now.”

“W-what? But, why?” She clung closer to Rainbow’s withers.

“Well, uh, we’ve gotta hoof it from here. I don’t want you to get swatted by branches.” Rainbow jostled awkwardly. “So uh, you can climb down now, Scoots. Anytime. Preferably tonight, though.”

Scootaloo took a deep, shaking breath. She released Rainbow’s withers, pushed herself up, and stood atop the older mare’s back. And with a small plod of her own, thumped down on the forest soil beside Rainbow Dash.

They would have stayed that way, side-by-side, had Rainbow not started hovering again.

“Alright, I think it’s... thataway.”

“You mean you know, right?”

“Yeah, of course! Come on, squirt. Let’s go find us a Vulture’s Cove...”

With little fanfare, Scootaloo followed after the fastest flier in Ponyville... on hoof.

---

The forest was not nearly as much of a threat as Scootaloo had imagined it’d be.

As they trot through the thin outcrop of trees on the edge of Saddle Lake, it slowly became clear that this was not quite the Everfree Forest. Sure, it probably was within the realm, but the way the trees lacked ferocity, and the fact that the lively sound of the night’s creatures boomed proudly? No, this was very much the Whitetail Woods.

Still, Scootaloo trot close to the hovering Rainbow Dash.

They barely spoke, much to Scootaloo’s disappointment. Then again, she didn’t exactly have anything interesting to offer her hero. That only served to remind Scootaloo of her purpose for being out here, and on top of that, the reason Rainbow Dash was helping her.

“I hope I’m not wasting your time,” Scootaloo said numbly.

“What? No, of course not, Scoots.”

“It’s just—”

“Look, we’re already here. I told you it wasn’t far.”

Together, they stared at the mouth of the cave. It was inset into a tall outcrop of soil and rock that merged into the forest behind it. In fact, this seemed to be the point where the terrain turned from the smooth edge of Saddle Lake, and toward the nasty hodgepodge of cracks, falls, and crevices that the Everfree Forest was infamous for. None of that was an immediate concern, though: the darkness of the cave was the real problem.

“It’s dark,” Scootaloo pointed out.

Rainbow Dash squinted. “Yeah... it sure is. Huh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just remember it used to be brighter... Maybe all the lights and stuff are inside, now.”

That didn’t seem right to Scootaloo, but she hadn’t been here before. And she’d never been to a ‘magical cave’, either.

“Hold tight, squirt. I’ve got an idea.”

“Wait—”

It was a quick veer into the sky for Rainbow Dash, leaving Scootaloo alone on the forest floor.

She looked anxiously into the thicker woods behind the cave’s entrance. The moon was still high and bright, but that didn’t make things any less unnerving.

A minute passed, and Scootaloo’s worries deepened.

“Rainbow Dash?” she called out to the open sky.

There was no reply.

She glanced at the opening to the cave mouth.

Another minute passed.

A howl rang out.

Scootaloo tucked in a breath.

“Lights inside, huh...?”

Steeling herself, Scootaloo trudged toward the cave mouth, and delved into the dark.

---

Within, the warm night gave way to cold.

Scootaloo fluffed up with her tiny wings as best she could, squinting and hoping her eyes would adjust to the darkness. Soon enough, she was feeling her way through the rock walls. She hugged close, and trot slowly.

And sure enough, as the light of the night outside gave out, the cave interior gave way to flickering cyan hues.

They were dim pinpricks of light, but the strange cyan fires that burned on the other end of the dark chasm between her and the next bend of the cave flaunted openly at her. As Scootaloo crept ever-forward, she descended to a crawl, doing her best to ignore the seemingly ceaseless abyss to her left.

When she finally reached the fires, it was a moment to breathe a sigh of relief.

They were strange things. Contained to metal lamps, the flames burned within. They were one flat color, and holding a hoof close prompted no signs of warmth.

“Huh.”

Scootaloo tapped at it curiously, then looked around further. At her hooves, she saw more of the same brownish metal. But much of the once-long pieces had shattered and broken into little more than scrap.

It was strange, but not as intriguing as the trail of it leading deeper within.

Scootaloo reached up to the lamp she’d tapped, and squinted at its fixture.

It took one good twist and pull of her neck to pop the light out.

With her cyan fire, she crept deeper into the cave.

The piles of metal curled up along the walls on the side of the hallway. The further she went, the higher the piles grew. The cave belched down and around in twisting ways, but it was never too steep to turn around, nor pocked with holes and crevices to fall into. It was just long and steady.

And for some strange reason, Scootaloo felt compelled to stick it through to the end.

In time, Scootaloo wandered. There hardly seemed to be a limit to this place as she trot down the suspiciously unnatural cavern hallways. Maybe if she’d paid a little more attention to Cheerilee’s lectures, she could place a geological event to the creation of this serpent-like place. Even then, there were no branching offshoots from the path, only the darkness, and the piles of metal, and the occasional cyan-fire lamp. And through it all, Scootaloo pressed on, not stopping to question her latest trance.

She was going to let life guide her. She could have stayed outside the cave, or gone in. She’d made her decision. Now, it was time to see it through to the end, and see what consequences awaited her.

Whether she liked it or not, this cave was going to give her something. The world owed her at least that, after the life it’d given her so far.

Slick black tears, oiled by the grease rubbed off from her hooves, joined Scootaloo in the silence.

Finally, perhaps mercifully, the tunnel came to an end.

Spectres of cyan fire lit the vast hoard before her. The cavern’s riches, the baubles and trinkets... it was all here.

Piles of all kinds of things were here. Toys from Canterlot craftsmares piled to one side, odds and ends that belonged to antiques from another. The goodies here were arranged in a chaotic display, and had no means of categorizing themselves beyond the riches ready to depart this sanctum, and those that required assembly.

Scootaloo’s mind was racing like the pegasus she was meant to be.

She had scarcely a moment to compile the contents of the imposing cavern into some form of a plan, because the moment she stepped toward any of the piles of glittering gold and oiled wood, the guardian of this place emerged.

It screeched at her from its perch up high, as if to yell at her. It was almost like a voice called ‘Stop!’

And she did.

Scootaloo dropped her lamp, and it thud to the floor safely. Her throat locked up, and no sound emerged. Not even the faintest dribble of fear left her.

Oh, there was fear, but there was no means for her to express herself when the glossy eyes of the creature glided down to meet her.

The nasty browns and blacks of the creature clung close to the beautiful white undertips on its wings. It was beautiful, in a horribly mismatched kind of way. The same could well be said for its face, which was pinstriped red, and dotted at the end with a streak of white. Beady black eyes, glossed over, but apparently still capable, screamed out at her.

It was bigger than her, and the claws that clacked on its landings told her it could surely hurt her.

And surely, it would, as it raised its folded wings back out into an imposing figure.

Scootaloo squealed, bracing as she stumbled back toward the way she’d come.

The creature simply turned its back to her, its wings spread wide.

And the back of the Vulture spoke to her.

“You are found, pony.”

Despite its best attempts at appearing in a low tone, the voice was a shrill one, and like its owner, a tiny one.

Scootaloo stared in awe at the tiny fascimile of a pony.

It had dainty, film-like wings like a butterfly, but a gray mane and tail like any other pony. It had long-reaching antennae for its size, but a white barrel and legs that wouldn’t appear to out of place on a pony. It had green eyes filled with life, but so much more sorrow than Scootaloo had ever seen.

“What is your name?” the creature on the back of the Vulture squeaked again. He was entrenched in the feathery back of the Vulture’s wings, and yet, he didn’t appear to be much of a blemish or irritant to the creature.

Scootaloo’s gaze flicked briefly from the tiny stowaway and to the watchful turned eye of the Vulture. Its beady black eyes sent her back to the creature.

“S-Scootaloo.”

“Scootaloo. Well met. I am Lignite Breeze.”

“I-it’s nice to meet you,” she whispered.

The tiny little Lignite smiled at her. “You may stand, Scootaloo. You have dirtied yourself enough on the path here.”

She looke down at her oil-licked hooves, then raised herself carefully off the cavern floor ground. At the very least, the metal piles still hugged the walls behind the piles of treasure.

“You have come here for a reason. What do you seek?”

Still caught off-guard by Lignite and the Vulture’s presence, Scootaloo scuffed the ground. “Um... nothing.”

“You do not need to fear me. I was born weak, much like you and the wings upon your back.”

Scootaloo bristled at that. “H-hey!”

The Vulture screeched, and she stepped back again.

The exit was right behind her, she could turn around, and surely outpace the Vulture in the tight corridor. Surely...

“I’m sorry,” Lignite murmured, his low tone still just a squeak of his tiny voicebox. “But I have seen many fliers like you. None had lost so much as you, or I.”

“What are you, anyways?”

“It matters not. Only that I have learned your language, so that we may arrange your retrieval in a simple, meaningful way.”

“Well, it matters to me,” Scootaloo managed. “What is this place? Who are you? Why—”

“I have said more than needed. You came here for something!” Lignite somehow boomed. His eyes softened, and he tucked his hooves back into the feathers beneath him. “What do you seek?”

Scootaloo fell quiet. She looked around at the piles, the cyan fires lit about, and the bare metal perch from which the Vulture had descended. There, she spied scraps of forest bounty: berries, grasses, nuts... meager means to an end.

“I’m looking for something cool to show other ponies...”

“’Cool?’” Lignite asked.

“Yeah. Like...” she chewed her lip. “Like... Like Rainbow Dash.”

Lignite shuddered. “Describe them.”

“She’s... well, she’s the coolest pony ever.” Passion flooded back into Scootaloo, and all thoughts of escape swam away in the urge to explain this to its fullest extent. To explain why her hero was her idol. “She’s just the best at everything she does, she’s brave, she helps everypony in need, she’s always there, but most importantly, she’s—”

“The faster flier in Cloudsdale?”

Scootaloo stopped at the cutoff. “She... yeah, I guess, she was...”

“And she is your friend?”

“Well... tonight was actually the first time we’ve ever really done something together.”

“I see. Then you have much of a life to look forward to.”

Scootaloo blinked. “I guess so?”

Lignite simply nodded. “Rainbow Dash dreamed big. She came here with ambition, because she thought she might find something to make her life even faster.” He pulled his hooves from the feathers again, and rested them against the Vulture’s back. He looked longingly off to a nearby cyan flame. “She was, indeed, a fast flier. So fast that she came, saw, and took her prize before a full conversation was had. In a way, it was a blessing.”

At that, Scootaloo had nothing to say.

“But that is long past now, I feel. Your story is now. You wish to follow her?”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo swallowed thickly, then nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“And how will you do so with no wings like her?”

A dry heave ran its way up Scootaloo’s throat, but she fought it down, and didn’t budge. “I-I don’t know.”

“You will.”

Scootaloo watched with total captivation as Lignite plucked himself from the skewed feathers of the Vulture, and took flight. His tiny little wings fluttered to keep him up. But then, the Vulture’s wings twitched, and its beady black eye tracked Lignite as it curled and twisted a flap behind itself.

And Lignite floated gently on the Vulture’s breeze.

“Come, Scootaloo!” Lignite boomed again.

She glanced at the Vulture, then hurried after the gliding Lignite.

He floated over on his dainty wings to a pair of piles. These ones were much more scrap than complete.

“I have no treasures that will help you fly. But here... you may create something worthy of your wings.”

Scootaloo stared at the piles. There were wood and nails galore, and a few carved pieces of both wood and stone. They actually appeared quite clean and usable, but at the same time... “This is all junk. How am I supposed to make anything with this stuff?”

“There is no need to worry.” From the corner of her eye, a cyan glow and hum bobbed out. “Because I am here to help you.”

The piles shifted, shuddered, and ultimately, glowed. Scootaloo gaped in awe as bits of the piles levitated themselves into the air.

“Do you wish to be fast like her?”

“W-well, a little.”

Four wooden wheels, conjoined with metal fixtures, levitated before her.

Scootaloo peered out and touched at one of them, spinning it lightly where it floated. It spun freely and smoothly.

“And like her, her purpose is not entirely that of speed.”

“No... you’re right.”

A wooden board joined it, and with it came more metal to bind it together.

“Do you have friends?”

“I’d like to.”

Lignite smiled sadly as he worked. “She started with one. Perhaps you could start there.”

More metal rose up from the pile, fastening itself to the edges of the flat board. Reinforcements.

“This looks... weird.”

“And we do not?”

Finally shaking the situation, Scootaloo peeled back. “What’s with that? Why do you keep comparing yourself to me? We don’t even look anything alike.”

“But we are built... with similar weaknesses.”

Finally, his antennae ceased to glow, and the wheeled board came to a gentle rest on the floor before Scootaloo.

“But these are things that only we can find strength in.” Lignite gestured out at the board. “Take a step, then. See how it feels.”

Tentatively, Scootaloo placed a hoof on the board.

The wheels rolled over the smooth cavern floor.

“Okay...”

One hoof became two. She rolled it from side to side.

“This...”

Three hooves.

“I think...”

Four.

She stared ahead at the Vulture, who had now folded its wings, and stared intently at her from its perch on the floor.

With her place on the board, however, she now matched the Vulture in height.

She looked it in the eye.

“Well.”

Scootaloo looked over at Lignite. The tiny pony had come to float next to her.

“I think this could work.”

“Yes... And I have just the hill for you to start your journey on.”

For once in their conversation, Scootaloo knew what he meant.

She wheeled her board over to the entrance to the cavern. The darkness from which she’d emerged stared back at her, waiting for her to slope back down and out.

As she stood there alone, with nothing but her breathing and anxiety for company, she heard more metal clinking. It was much like the few bits she’d scattered by in the darkness, but something more... familiar.

She turned around again to see the Vulture had moved to stand next to her.

And yet, she didn’t jump.

And in the Vulture’s beak, clenched tight like a vice, a shiny piece of gold glittered.

An Equestrian bit.

Lignite’s voice called out from the back of the Vulture. “We take many chances in our lives. Not all of them succeed. Many choices made in chance block off other paths that we may have taken. Sometimes, it means we will never go home again.” Lignite paused. “Other times, it means we have the chance to prove ourselves worthy.”

He emerged over the crest of the Vulture’s red and white head. His antennae glowed again, and the beak of the Vulture joined its shimmering aura. It allowed its beak open, and the coin floated out, only to come to a perfectly balanced rest atop the beak of the Vulture. Its beady black eyes honed in on the coin’s new location, all the while Lignite bobbed close by.

“Rainbow Dash chose heads. From the inspiration she gives you, it is clear she chose correctly. But for this coinflip, what will you choose?”

Scootaloo’s hooves flexed against the board beneath her. She swallowed again. “I-I guess... I’ll choose tails.”

“And why is that?”

“Because... because there’s no difference between either side of the coin... it’s just... luck.”

Silently, Scootaloo thanked herself: she had listened to Miss Cheerliee enough...

But there was more that school didn’t teach...

“And because I’m not going to be exactly like her... but I’d like to try.”

“Tails... it is.”

And the Vulture snapped.

The coin flipped up at the beak’s behest, and it tumbled through the air on a swerving paradigm.

Below her, Scootaloo felt the board move of its own accord... a push from a helpful spirit she hadn’t expected to find.

And into the depths of the Vulture’s Cove did she descend once more.