//------------------------------//
// Scootaloo's Inspiration 
// Story: A War 
// by Comma Typer 
//------------------------------//

An hour had passed and it was sunset once more, the sun again lowered closer and closer to the mountain edges at the faraway horizon. Its rays pierced the thick foiliage of the tree, sliced through the narrow opening of an almost closed window.
A thin sliver of light, therefore, rested across the wet face of a whimpering Scootaloo.
Hugged by Apple Bloom as she patted the sorrow-filled pegasus, her fellow Crusader.
"Is...i-is there a-another way she could come back t-to her old self?!" Scootaloo yelled. "Any way, Apple Bloom?!" Pushed and pulled her, desperate. "Please, help me!"
Embraced Scootaloo closer, tighter. A heavy sigh.
"I...I know that she's still the awesome, super-cool pony that she's always been!" Scootaloo went on through an overflow of tears. "I-Inside, she's...n-nice! H-How could she do such a h-horrible...is...when..."
Apple Bloom patted her once more.
"If only she didn't go up!" Scootaloo screamed, throwing herself away. "She wouldn't have to face those evil meanies! She wouldn't have to face those terrible Crystals! I wish King Sombra didn't return!"
Smashed her hooves on the floor, cracking it.
Apple Bloom took a step back, gasping at the sight of the blemished wooden planks. "Scootaloo, I think you're taking this too far—"
"You think?!" Scootaloo yelled. "You think that I'm taking this too far?!"
Apple Bloom stood her ground, planting her four hooves firmly on the surface.. "Yes, Scootaloo. Yes, I am."
Held her breath.
Scootaloo thrashed around, bawling her eyes out as she banged the walls, slammed the door repeatedly, and plopped herself on the ground—a blubbering orange mess.
Reduced to tears.
"Rainbow Dash!" Scootaloo shrieked. "P-Please, come back!"
Outstretched hoof toward the window, toward the final light of day.
Apple Bloom watched her wail, her own eyes watering up as well.
She walked up to her.
Picked her up, let her sit down.
Let her cry on her shoulder.
A hug, an embrace.
As a tear trickled down Apple Bloom's cheek.
"I...I know how ya' feel," she said to Scootaloo, choking up. "I wish I could...change the past. Make it so that there won't be this war, that our farm won't be ruined...that good ol' Rainbow would still be here in Equestria, the kind-hearted and awesome flier you an' I know."
A faint smile.
Disappeared.
"B-But, I can't. Nopony can. That's h-how it is, Scootaloo. This new Rainbow Dash is here to stay."
"I don't like the new Rainbow Dash!" Scootaloo yelped, hugging her tighter. "She's brash! She hurts other ponies for the sake of it, even innocent ponies who...who d-don't deserve getting kicked down by her when...when they're already in c-custody!"
Apple Bloom kept embracing her, noting one more time the photo Scootaloo grabbed from the floor.
Drenched in tears yet still firm, the picture showed a stained Dash growling at the caged objector surrounded by a cadre of guards.
Eyes on her friend. "Scootaloo, I d-don't know how to break it to you...but, wh-what about we hope? Hope that she's only angry about her lost wing and—"
"No pegasus could not be angry at losing a wing!" Scootaloo yelled at her face. "She could never get a proper replacement! Nopony can! She has to live with those clunky wings for the rest of her life!"
Covered her soaked face with her hooves.
"But, Scootaloo..."
"No! There's no way this is ever getting right! What if she loses both of her wings? Or, worse...what if she...passes..."
Burst into tears, flailing on the floor.
Apple Bloom's face downward.
Closed eyes.
Clenched her jaw.
Tears breaking through.



A cozy bedroom.
Untidy checkered green bed on the side, shelves containing some toys and a single book, and hanging pictures on the wall—one of them of Rainbow Dash herself, wearing a pair of goggles and smiling
The tulips on the sleeping desk gave off a sweet fragrance.
On the bedroom's other side was an open cabinet where multi-colored balloons, rainbow-themed merchandise—like hats, shirts, rainbow wigs—and posters of that famed mare lived.
Scootaloo was sitting down before these.
Grabbed one of the posters.
It showed a happy Rainbow Dash, complete with full hair, unmarred face, and two blue wings.
She gripped it tight.
A tear splattered on to it.
The clock on the cabinet's top struck midnight.



"OK, class!" Cheerilee, the purple Earth pony in front of the chalkboard, said in a cheerful fashion. "Who could tell me the two basic spells a unicorn will learn if he or she enlists in the E.U.P. Guard?"
Scootaloo woke up, slurped up her drool, and raised her hoof before anypony else among her classmates, standing up on her chair at the front row. "Uni-beams and repulsor blasts! Offensive and defensive, respectively, miss Cheerilee!" And smiled.
The teacher nodded. "That's good...considering that you looked like you were sleeping there for a minute." She glanced to the side, a bit embarrassed. Turning to the rest of her students. "Now, who could tell me the motto of the Equestrian Border Guard?"
"'We are the First Line'!" Hoof raised. "Yes, ma'am!" Saluted Cheerilee.
Everypony stared at her in equal parts awe and disbelief.
"You're...correct again, Scootaloo." A clearing cough. "Alright, what gave rise to the very name of the Wonder—"
"General Firefly of the aerial squadron during the first Year of Celestial Peace gave the Wonderbolts their name when they performed the commemoration of said year—" sucked in a big gulp of air "—and he was so amazed at the performance because it also had magical lightning! Over and out, coming over, miss!"
And saluted her again.
Silence in the whole classroom.
Apple Bloom reached her hoof out to her. Thought twice, then retracted it.
"Uh, Scootaloo," Cheerilee began, "your enthusiasm is...laudable. I can see that you've become a much more dedicated learner." Her smile faltered. "However, you have to let your friends answer as well, since they also want to attain a thorough understanding of the Equestrian military, not to mention other subjects." She smiled again. "You don't mind, do you?"
Scootaloo scratched her head. "I...don't think so?"
Cheerilee nodded. "That's what I like to hear. A pony who's willing to help others in their pursuit of knowledge!" Looked at her again, bearing a bothered expression. "You could also...sit down."
"Oh. Right."
Scootaloo then sat down.



"That poor filly is getting worse," Filthy Rich said at a Sugarcube Corner table, a tiny vanilla cake on his plate. "First, the breakdown from yesterday. Now, this. She's managed to ace every guard-related question aimed at her during school today. I'm not denying that she's a studious pony, but...don't you think that it has something to do with her hero, too?"
The donkey on the other side of the table nodded, touching her chin before bending an earringed ear. "Sadly, I think so." A pause. "What I also think...is that it's not a good idea to swamp yourself in reading about soldiers, wars...battles. She will only be reminded about her jaded friend."
Filthy Rich took a bite out of his cake.
"What do you mean you don't have chocolate cake?!" an angry voice rose up.
The two looked to the line of ponies at the counter.
"Silver Spoon," Mrs. Cake said to the gray filly at the line's front, "I told you yesterday and the day before that. We had to stop making chocolate cake because we're making batches of chocolate for our brave warriors on the front."
"Don't you have one stashed somewhere?" Silver Spoon asked, insisting on it while she fixed her glasses. "Don't you store them up in freezers like the fancy bakers do in Canterlot?"
"We're not fancy bakers," Mrs. Cake replied, "and we don't freeze cake. It'll make it powdery and fragile which is what we don't want from a good cake."
Silver Spoon groaned as she stormed out of the bakery, Filthy Rich and Matilda some of the few who watched her leave.
As she left, she did not notice that some construction workers changed the establishment's sign. Instead of a curly and upbeat sign displaying a bright pink cupcake, there was, in its place, a wooden and half-unpainted sign with a dingy depiction of brown bread loaves.