"You've noticed that I don't have a Cutie Mark, right?"
"I haven't noticed. I guess that I didn't much care to check."
"Well anyways," Scootaloo continued, "I used to be a part of a club that I made along with a friends called the Cutie Mark Crusaders-" Scootaloo was surprised because of an outburst of laughter from Hopin.
"I had no idea," said Hopin as he finished laughing hysterically. "Some ponies that we've had come here have told some pretty funny stories about this group of yours, but I had no idea that you were one of them."
Hopin was sitting in the seat very cozily until he saw Scootaloo's angered stare.
"Oh." Hopin put his hoof on the back of his neck and was embarassed. "Sorry. Please continue."
"Aaaanyways..." Scootaloo rolled her eyes as she tried to get back into a storytelling tone. "We did all sorts of stuff together. Anything that you can imagine that might give a filly their Cutie Mark and I assure you that we've done it. We were the best of friends..." Scootaloo stopped for a second to reflect on the past and determine what she should say next, "but my two friends in the group got their Cutie Marks one day and I didn't. They had that special mark and it made me so terribly jealous. They never wanted to do club meetings anymore or try to get me my Cutie Mark. Eventually I didn't even want to be around them and fell into this depression that I'm in now. I played with them this afternoon, but I felt uncomfortable and angry. I ended up here. But that's not the half of it, I also-"
"Scootaloo, hold on a second. You don't have your Cutie Mark and how old are you?"
"I'm ten," said Scootaloo. She was confused and somewhat angry that the stallion made her bring up her age. It made her feel bad to admit it due to the circumstances.
"Ten. No place to live. No parents. No Cutie Mark. Seems to me like you've ended up in a bad spot and it seems like you were destined to be there."
"Well thanks for that. If I wanted to feel bad, I would've asked," Scootaloo was quickly losing her temper and Hopin took notice.
"You already feel bad," Hopin started in a tone that signified he wasn't taking Scootaloo's anger seriously, "and I'm sure that these last few weeks have made you feel horrible. I don't want to anger you, but you're in the middle of a huge mistake that you're setting yourself up for and have, so far, been carrying through with."
"What is that mistake?"
"Where to begin is the question." Hopin opened his eyes up a bit and looked aside as he began to think. "You've turned on your friends, you're taking so much pity on yourself, and you're angry for no good reason." Hopin stopped and let the filly think about what he had said. "You're also only ten. A smart and mature ten-year-old at that. But for as smart as you are, you also made the mistake of thinking that your life wasn't going to go anywhere when your friends got their Cutie Marks." Hopin stopped again and looked out of the window. It was still raining and thunder occured every now and again.
"You were trying to sleep out there," said Hopin in a quieter, more serious tone. "Probably thinking that it was better off that nopony saw you and probably thinking that nopony cared if you were sick." Hopin knew that he was making Scootaloo feel worse still as he looked at her with her eyes down staring down at her Cutie Mark-less flank, but he continued anyways.
"Death is so often a misunderstood thing. I don't even understand it. But I know that there's a time. We shouldn't decide that time and should instead let it be appointed for us. I've had some ponies here that have gone through worse than I have. Ponies that thought that the time they had in life wasn't worth spending. That is until they came out of the shells they formed around themselves and found that there's more to this world than they ever thought possible."
Scootaloo still was staring at her side. Hopin knew that she was in pain, but he at least detected that he was getting somewhere with her.
"Ya' know, just because you're missing that mark doesn't mean that you're not special. A mark is a mark. Some are there forever and some are not. Some are physical scars and some are emotional. Some supposedly point out a talent. Mine here is a hoof reaching for a source of light," said Hopin as he got up and showed Scootaloo his mark. He then sat back down and continued. "I have no clue what the light-source is, but I've known what it symbolized ever since it appeared when I was a kid. Whenever the opportunities appeared, I've tried to make myself proud to have this mark. I've failed sometimes. I've failed deep friends and I've even failed myself. I never will quit, though."
Scootaloo had now turned to Hopin with desperate and teary eyes. Hopin saw and reached across the table and gave her a hug that she so desperately needed. For Hopin, it was a moment that made him happy because he knew that he was going in the right direction with her. For Scootaloo, it was a moment of emotional pain, but also a moment of understanding and great comfort. Scootaloo eventually let go and continued to listen.
"But just because you're missing that mark doesn't mean that you're not special. It doesn't mean that you can't change the world or live a happy life..." Hopin stopped to look at Scootaloo's now smiling face and smiled back, "...and it certainly doesn't meant that you have no talent."
What continued was happy and thoughtful silence. But for as enjoyable as the silence was, Scootaloo was still curious about Hopin and Carol.
Scootaloo enjoyed the silence a bit longer, but the question gnawed at her. She saw no purpose in not asking, so she went ahead. "How did you meet your wife?" Scootaloo then hid her head and closed her eyes like she was uncomfortable and embarassed.
Hopin looked at the filly surprisedly, but gained his composure quickly and when ahead. "Carol lived down the hall from my dorm in college. I had talked to her a bit, but nothing much besides small-talk. I didn't ever really bother to talk to her which was a shame because she is so enjoyable. Anyways. She was in my morning class. It was a small class, so I'm not surprised that she noticed that I was missing. I was still in my dorm...wide awake." Hopin paused. He took a little while and then continued in a quieter and noticeably sadder tone.
"She knocked on the door, but I disregarded it. I forgot to lock the door because I just didn't care and eventually she came through. I turned around and saw her. She was surprised to see the tears rolling down my face and she immediately picked up that it had to do with the suicide note that I had just received from the police who had came by to tell me of my mom's death. I asked for the note and they left me with it...." Hopin paused again, but this time, his tone signified that he was a bit more comfortable and even a bit happy for talking about such things.
"Most ponies would have walked away and pretended like nothing was wrong...but instead, she asked if I would like some comfort. I saw no reason to say no and she sat by me silently as I cried. We talked a little bit more after that, but she eventually went away. I saw her more often, but it was when she volunteered to participate in the choir at my mother's funeral that I truly realized that she was the pony that I loved. The funeral was far away and took important time away from her, but she did it anyways. We've been together ever since."
"Wow...That's a beautiful story, Hopin...and she's a beautiful mare."
Hopin laughed a little. "Every love story is beautiful..." Hopin stopped for a moment and thought. "On second thought...I remember reading a horrible book about some love between a girl and some vampire. Some werewolf comes in and...and the book was JUST AWFUL. Horrid. Not beautiful at all," chuckled Hopin
Scootaloo gave a good laugh and looked at Hopin. Hopin was still curious as to what was left of the filly's story, though.
"You still have more of your story left to tell, Scootaloo," said Hopin as he stared deviously.
Scootaloo was surprised and looked around. "I'm not sure if I want to tell. It might make this whole stay end on a bad note."
"None-the-less, I still plan on hearing it." Hopin planted his elbows onto the table and put his hooves under his chin.
Scootaloo saw this and figured that there was really no good in not telling him. Besides, he was a smart stallion and she still needed some answers. Scootaloo looked outside at the rain for a moment and went on telling her story.