//------------------------------//
// Hearth's Warming, year 1819 of Celestia's reign 
// Story: Scootaloo's Hollow 
// by Dead_Mares 
//------------------------------//

"Happy Hearth's Warming, Dreadwing!"

Dreadwing stared down at the orange filly with a bewildered look on his face. It was an exciting day for ponies, especially one so young, yet she had left home almost immediately after waking up. Did she not wish to spend time with her family? And why was she eagerly holding an object out towards him with a happy grin across her face?

Scootaloo cocked her head and pushed the object closer to Dreadwing. "What's wrong? Aren't you going to take it?"

"Okay." Dreadwing lifted one of his hands and delicately grabbed the offering. It was a small box sloppily wrapped in what appeared to be a sheet of notebook paper colored to look like wrapping paper. "What is this for?"

"Haven't you ever gotten a Hearth's Warming present before?" Scootaloo asked with a hint of surprise in her voice.

Dreadwing shook his massive head. "No. From the day of my birth, or creation, or however I got here, ponies have avoided me. Who would be around to give me a gift?"

Scootaloo sat on the cold ground and rested her back against the tree, below her usual hollow. "Not a single present?"

"Not one."

"That's sad." Scootaloo scratched the back of one foreleg through her worn coat, a habit Dreadwing hat noticed she had picked up over the past couple of weeks. It wasn't that she had an itch, she just did it to distract herself whenever her thoughts became troublesome. The skin around that area had become raw, and despite himself Dreadwing had begun to worry about her again.

"Do you not want to spend today with your parents? This is an important holiday for you ponies from what I have observed," Dreadwing asked curiously.

Scootaloo shook her head. "My parent's aren't big on celebrating much of anything. Holidays are just another excuse for them to get drunk. Well, drunker."

"They have a drinking problem? Is that why your parents are so tense?"

"That's one reason. Look, can we not talk about this today? I just wanted to have a happy Hearth's Warming for once," Scootaloo said with a hint of annoyance in her voice, which surprised Dreadwing. Something was happening at home that was affecting her behavior, and he wanted to find out what. However, he also wanted to respect her wishes, so he dropped the subject.

"Very well. We will find a more joyous subject."

Scootaloo nodded. "Good. Now aren't you going to open it?" she said with a gesture towards the present.

Dreadwing looked down at the object and observed it more closely. While sloppy, it seemed like the filly had put her best effort into it. It would be an insult to not accept the gift. He carefully peeled the tape back to reveal a small brown cardboard box, and inside he found a small knife he recognized as the one Scootaloo had almost used a few weeks prior. He frowned and held it delicately between his thumb and forefinger. "An odd gift. I mean no disrespect, but I have no use for this."

"It's less about the item and more the meaning behind it." Scootaloo shifted in her spot and smiled slightly. "You saved me that evening when you appeared in front of me. I'm giving you the knife so that you know for sure that I'll never use it."

Dreadwing glanced between her and the knife. "A meaningful gift. You recognized I have no need for material possessions and gave me this instead." A stream of magic flowed from him into the sharp tool, and as it turned to dust and floated away in the wind, he was sure he saw her smile deepen. "But what would you wish for in return?"

Scootaloo shook her head. "You already gave me a gift. The only thing I've ever wanted was a friend."

Dreadwing's eyes went wide at the word 'friend.' He had never expected a phrase like that to be uttered towards him, and it took a moment for him to regain his composure. "I could give you anything, any object you could wish for, yet you choose something as intangible as friendship. Why?"

"I don't know. I could have asked for something that would make my life easier or more fun, but no object would be able to make me feel as happy as you have."

Dreadwing stared at her for a long moment. Her maturity continued to surprise him time and time again, and during many of their conversations he had found himself forgetting she was so young. "You are a strange foal."

"I'm just how my situation has made me. I wouldn't be all that different from the others if I grew up normally."

The two of them sat in silence for a minute before Scootaloo reached into her bag and pulled out a small book. "Want to hear a story? My aunts used to read it to me all the time when I was younger, back when they still visited."

Dreadwing nodded and listened intently as she began the story. He had already heard the tale of Snowfall Frost hundreds of times, but he chose not to tell her. The presence of a friend made it so much more enjoyable this time around, and as that unexpected word continued reverberating through his soul, he smiled genuinely for the first time in his life.