After explaining the dream to Twilight, Scootaloo was allowed to spend the rest of the night at the Friendship Castle so her cutie mark wouldn’t keep her awake. The next day, the two set out for Canterlot. Since it was early in the morning, the train was relatively empty, allowing Scootaloo to zoom around without bothering too many passengers, not that ponies would be too bothered by an energetic filly in the first place.
“Settle down there, Scootaloo,” chuckled Twilight, “you’ll need to save some energy to walk around Canterlot.”
“Sorry, Twilight. I guess I’m just a bit nervous.” Scootaloo replied, “It’s just that the last time I saw Mr. Quilt, I may or may not have lodged an anonymous complaint with the police…”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, Scoots, I doubt he’ll do anything to you with a princess around.” Twilight said trying to soothe the filly, ruffling her wing on the word ‘princess’. This calmed the filly just enough to sit down, but still was a bit antsy.
Twilight put her wing around the filly and pulled her close. The warmth of the alicorn was enough to soothe the filly for the rest of the trip.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once the train arrived in Canterlot, Twilight pulled out a map to look for the orphanage.
“It’s not gonna be on there, Twilight,” Scootaloo said, “besides, I know exactly how to get there.”
The filly started galloping away, leading Twilight to the street the orphanage was on. It was not well maintained, instead of the nice asphalt roads, it was cobblestone, but with most of the stone gone. The building looked like they were on the fringe of collapsing, not to mention the surprising amounts of homeless ponies. It seemed more like a back alley than a road.
“This is where the orphanage you lived in is?” Twilight asked Scootaloo.
“Yeah, just wait until you see the orphanage,” replied Scootaloo, climbing up onto Twilight’s back, “it’s number 45, on the left.”
Twilight began to slowly walk down the street, looking back and forth. This street made the city Capper was from look respectable. When she got to the orphanage, she could feel the filly on her back vehemently shaking. The princess knocked on the door.
The door opened. A brawny earth pony stepped out. “Yes?”
“Are you Mr. Quilt?” Twilight asked him.
“Yeah, it is. What of it?” The stallion responded.
“Well, I’ve received some complaints about a ‘Mr. Quilt’ abusing the orphans.” Twilight said sternly.
“And just who might you be?”
“I’m Princesses Twili—”
“Go fuck yourself, princess.” Grumbled the stallion slamming the door.
“Well, that was rude,” said Twilight, offended.
“He’s usually waaaay worse. Consider yourself lucky,” said a colt Twilight didn’t recognize. “Up here!”
A blue pegasus jumped out of the window and hovered down, landing next to Twilight.
“Who are you, little colt?” Twilight asked the colt.
“Name’s Evening Mist. Nice to meet you, Princess.”
“So, I take it that was Mr. Quilt?” asked Twilight, referring to the rude stallion.
Scootaloo and Evening responded with sounds of confirmation.
“So,” began Twilight, “what’s this ‘thing’ that Mr. Quilt’s done this time?”
“Well,” began the colt, “I should probably tell you the events leading up to that day…”