//------------------------------// // Food For Thought // Story: Timed Ramblings // by Midnight herald //------------------------------// “What’s this I hear about you goin’ off to some private school in Manehattan?” Scootaloo stands in the doorway to the schoolyard, blocking off Silver’s exit with her stunted wings out wide and quivering. Silver Spoon shrugs and tries to skirt past the angry pegasus, But Scootaloo shifts and herds her back inside. “Father and I agreed that it would be best for my future there,” she spits, trying again (unsuccessfully) to escape the empty, gloomy classroom. “What future?” Scootaloo growls, backing Silver into the wall with her burning violet eyes. “Silver, you’d be miserable there. I mean, sure, you’re great friends with Tiara and all, but I know you can’t stand most upper-class foals.” Silver snorts and flashes Scootaloo with her flank. It gives her a moment’s satisfaction to see how the other filly blushes at that, before she remembers that she’s trapped in the classroom and Scootaloo’s angry at her. Again. “Scoots, it’s my destiny. What I’m meant to do,” she explains, as she would to a wobble-kneed baby. “My special talent is schmoozing up to other rich ponies. ‘Born with a silver spoon in their mouths’ and all that jazz. Don’t you see why this is important to me?” The fiery anger Scootaloo displays is slowly fading away, leaving behind sullen embers in her eyes. She droops a bit, her feathers now shaking with barely-restrained hurt and sadness, her eyes fixed on the floorboards between them. “Silver, I thought I was important to you,” she whimpers. “I just don’t want you to leave me behind.” Silver cringes at that, and her eyes wander guiltily to Scootaloo’s flank, still as bare as the day Silver met her. “I’m sorry, Scoots,” she mumbles, hesitantly reaching out and stroking Scoots’ tense neck. “It’s just, Father needs me to do this. I’ve got a duty to the family business, and that means hobnobbing with the worst of them. And I’ve got a duty to myself, too. A duty to my future, to fulfill my special talent. I don’t want to leave you behind, but...” She trails off, frustrated. Words are words are words, and for now they’re nothing but pointless noise. Scootaloo’s stirring herself up again, and her beautiful violet eyes are burning, the same way they do when she’s ready to pull some stunt, or when she’s talking about Rainbow Dash, or something else that matters to her. “Silv, I’m not gonna sit back and let you leave like this, you know that?” A warmth explodes in Silver’s chest when she realizes the thing that matters right now is her. “You should be where you’re happy, doing what makes you happy. And I’d like to think that Ponyville would be enough for now.” Silver grimaces. “But my special talent --” “You know, you’ve never told me the details about it.” Scootaloo’s on a roll, ploughing through Silver’s protestations like a steam-powered tractor. “What’s your Cutie Mark Story?” “I don’t think this is the time to be asking about that,” Silver snaps, drawing her hoof back in. “Trust me on this,” Scootaloo begs, her eyes wide and earnest. “I’ve got a hunch, and I want to see if I’m right.” Silver rolls her eyes and huffs. “Aw, C’mon, Silv,” Scoots whines, pulling out her best wounded-puppy eyes. Silver sighs and takes a deep breath. It’s no use trying to ignore that face. She’s tried many, many times before, and if there’s one thing her father’s taught her about business, it’s to cut losses early. “Alright, alright,” she sighs, playfully chucking Scoots on the shoulder. “It was at one of the formal dinners my father was throwing for the clients. TIME LIMIT---- “About half the scullery staff had come down with the pony pox, and everypony was certain we’d fail to provide enough food and drink to satisfy the guests. I had been learning housekeeping skills because I thought they’d be useful later on in life, so I figured I’d help out as much as I could. Some very important ponies were on the guest list, and I didn’t want to let Father down in this. It’s my household as much as his, really, and I guess I’m just as proud as he is. “I was in the kitchen, and I planned on just supervising, but it was total chaos. I organized the ponies who had made it in into line-production groups and basically put the dinner together from what they gave me. As soon as everything was back on track and simmering nicely, I ran into the salon and spent the whole rest of the evening entertaining. Telling silly little stories, meeting other families’ children, stuff like that. “I was so busy that whole evening that I fell asleep the moment the house was empty. It wasn’t till the next morning when I was taking my dress off that I realized I even had a Cutie Mark.” Scootaloo grins triumphantly. She’s stuck the landing on this, it seems. Something in that story is good, and Silver leans forward, eager to hear what it may be. “Silv, did you ever think about how your special talent could be cooking? ‘Cause I’ve tasted your food, and each bite is heaven.” Silver sits and thinks, and thinks some more. “Maybe?” she hazards. This will require some serious meditation. From the way Scootaloo’s face lights up in hope and joy, the possibility is entirely worth it.