Written by: JapaneseTeeth
Rated Everyone
Scootaloo opened her eyes. Everything was blue. No, not everything. A few fluffy patches of hazy white drifted in the distance, floating on the air. Or were they falling? Somewhere in the back of her memories she could hear a voice telling her that even though clouds looked like they hung in the air on invisible strings, they were always falling, always coming closer. The voice said that when they reached the earth, they splashed apart in a pitter-patter of raindrops. That couldn't be right. Everypony knew that clouds never moved unless a pegasus moved them, and it never rained unless a pegasus wrung the water out. Maybe the voice was talking about natural clouds, like the ones that formed over the Everfree. That was a scary thought, clouds that wouldn't stay in the air. Falling clouds would be right at home in the forest though.
Something green fluttered by the top of her field of vision. A butterfly? She had never seen a green butterfly before. Maybe it was a leaf. That was it. A leaf. A whole branch's worth of them, now that she thought about it. A whole branch's worth of leaves swaying in the breeze. She could hear the rustling now that she knew to listen for it. She could even feel the same breeze sifting through the loose strands of her mane. Naturally, one of the strands ended up uncomfortably close to her eye.
Scootaloo blinked. The vague shapes in the sky snapped into focus. Lazy clouds, a hooffull of them. One of them was shaped sort of like the clubhouse. Not perfectly, of course. The clubhouse didn't have such a high roof, and the ramp didn't sway in the wind. In fact, now it resembled the schoolhouse more than the clubhouse. And if it were a bit taller it would have made a great Sugarcube Corner. She reached a hoof towards the sky. Someday. Someday she'd be there. Someday she could take that cloud in her hooves and shape it into anything she wanted.
She turned her attention to another cloud. An ice cream cone. Ice cream would be so delicious, especially now. The heat of the sun had finally began to warm the ground. The hot light weaved its way through her coat to bite into her skin. She could feel herself begin to sweat. A cloud drifted a bit. Tears began to squeeze themselves out of her eyes, trying to escape the sun as it poured light onto her face.
Scootaloo closed her eyes. The brightness burrowed through her eyelids and she turned away from the sun. As her weight shifted, she suddenly became aware of her wings. They were full of pins and needles, and the left one was starting to ache. She rolled over. Her nose was filled with the deep, heavy scent of soil and grass. She wasn't impressed. It was nice. Nice, but nothing more. The smell of the dirt was too thick and dark, it brought to mind a picture of a musty cellar with leaky walls and vermin skittering in and out of small holes. It felt small and cramped.
Even though she was outside, it trapped her. No matter where she went, as high as her shrimpy little wings would take her, the dirt always dragged her back down. She sighed. She felt heavy, like she was sinking into the ground. Only the warm air wafting across her back offered any relief. She opened her wings, straining to stretch them as far as they could reach. A smile formed on her lips as she felt the breeze ruffle her feathers.
Was this what it felt like to fly? Feeling the wind slipping between each feather as she careened from cloud to cloud, the world spinning around her... The mere idea made her feel lighter, almost like she could simply lift her hooves off the earth and find herself drifting, letting the air currents carry her away. Someday. Someday her wings would be strong enough to tear herself away from the earth. Instead of lying in a patch of musty, bug-filled grass, she could snuggle against a cloud.
She wondered what clouds smelled like. Sweet, she decided. They looked halfway between cotton candy and ice cream, after all. Sweet and soft. The perfect pillow. The anticipation made her giddy; she couldn't wait to see if she was right. Once she reached the sky, she couldn't imagine wanting to come back down. Another scent brushed across her face. Flowers, maybe? Fruit? Apples. Definitely apples.
Could you grow apple trees in the clouds? The seeds would just fall through. Maybe there were magical apple trees that wouldn’t. But then, didn’t trees need more than just water? Hadn’t somepony told her that trees needed the dirt, that they absorbed nutrients from it or something? Maybe that was why all the pictures of Cloudsdale she had seen didn’t have any trees. The trees apparently ate the dirt, and there was no dirt in Cloudsdale. Flowers were the same way, now that she thought about it.
Maybe she wouldn’t abandon the earth completely. She’d never admit it, but she rather liked the scent of flowers and apples. If no dirt meant no plants, she’d just have to learn to live with it. Stupid dirt. Maybe when she reached the clouds she’d find a way to grow plants up there. Best of both worlds. Maybe find a way for non-pegasi to walk on clouds while she was at it. That was the one thing that dirt had going for it. Anypony could walk on it.
She took another deep breath. Maybe the ground wasn’t all bad.
The air on her back turned cool. With a sigh she rolled herself over and opened her eyes. The sky seemed empty, save for a single cloud hanging in front of the sun. So dark. So strange. One would think that it would be brighter. She had never understood that. Maybe when she finally got up there she’d figure that out too. Someday.
Scootaloo closed her eyes and began to dream of floating forests.