Having ascertained that neither pony had sustained any major injury, the two Pegasi spent the next half-hour underneath the shade of a nearby tree, talking about their personal interests and generally getting to know each other better. At first, Scootaloo didn't say very much about herself, but after learning how Rumble seemed to admire her stunt-riding talents, she gradually opened up to him, and they were soon chatting like old friends.
“So when did you first start scooter-riding then?” asked Rumble.
“Since I was about four years old, I think,” replied Scootaloo. “When I first heard of the Wonderbolts, I wanted to be just like them, but I couldn't work out how to use my wings properly. Riding on a scooter turned out to be the next best thing though, but I still like to imagine I'm flying with the Wonderbolts every time I perform stunts on it.”
Rumble looked a little surprised. At first he had thought Scootaloo's lacking flying skills were all down to some sort of disability, and yet now she was saying it was merely because she hadn't got the hang of it. “How come your parents never taught you?”
“Well......they can't really spare any time for all that,” said Scootaloo in a rather off-hoof manner.
“That can't be right. So perhaps some parents may be pretty busy a lot of the time, but surely you would have thought yours might have made some time for you,” remarked Rumble, confused. “My Mom and Dad certainly do, so why not yours?”
Scootaloo looked away, visibly ashamed. “I don't wanna talk about it,” she muttered unhappily.
Rumble opened his mouth to ask what upset her so, but thought better of it and decided to change the subject. “Is there anypony teaching you how to fly?” he inquired, still more than a little concerned.
Only then did the smile return to Scootaloo's face. “There is, now you come to mention it. I've got the coolest pony in all of Equestria training me – none other than Rainbow Dash!” she gushed enthusiastically. “She once made a really nice compliment of my scooter stunts when I actually managed to take to the air for once, and then we went on a camping trip to Winsome Falls with Applejack, Apple Bloom, Sweetie-Belle and Rarity. During that time, she told all these ghost stories round the camp-fire, and I kept getting horrible nightmares,” she went on, noticeably embarrassed. “At one point, my fears got the better of me, and when I heard what I thought was the Headless Horse, I grabbed my scooter and ran off to try and get away from it. But then I ended up in a river and was nearly killed going over a waterfall; but Rainbow Dash swooped in and only just saved my life. After that, she agreed to take me under her wing, teach me everything she knew and become like my big sister.”
Rumble stared in awe. “You've got Ponyville's former chief weather pony as your mentor?” he exclaimed, visibly impressed. “Wow, Scootaloo, you are one lucky filly! My brother Thunderlane often used to work under her, and I sometimes volunteered to help with the weather jobs myself, but to have her teaching you how to fly must be like meeting Princess Celestia herself!”
“Wait – does that mean you've met her?”
“Yeah, but only when they needed an extra pair of wings up there,” answered Rumble, “such as that time when Ponyville was selected to lift the water to the weather factory in Cloudsdale.”
“Lucky!” muttered Scootaloo with an envious smirk.
Rumble chuckled ruefully. “But I'm still only a colt, so I tend to get tired very easily from moving clouds around,” he added, “so usually when I'm up in the air, I'm improving on my own flying skills more than anything else. But yeah, you're far luckier than me, having Rainbow Dash teach you all that; she is one awesome pony, and no mistake.”
“She sure is,” agreed Scootaloo. But then her face fell; “Mind you, I haven't been able to get that much time with her since she enrolled in the Wonderbolt Academy. She's been able to spend the weekends with me, and I have been known to come up to her house for the odd sleepover, but other than that, her hooves are tied.”
“That's a shame,” sympathised Rumble. “I can only imagine how tough it must be for anypony to not be able to hang out with their idol.”
“Yeah, and even worse for me because I don't have anyone else teaching me how to fly,” agreed Scootaloo morosely.
Rumble gazed thoughtfully up at the sky, imagining himself soaring expertly left and right, back and forth, up and down, performing stunts while the orange Pegasus filly sat on the ground and stared longingly. He had been such a natural at flying from a young age, thanks largely to his big brother Thunderlane, but while he may have been proud of it in the past, the fact that his new friend was by no means as capable, and didn't have a full-time tutor to show her the way, made him feel deeply ashamed. “Well......you don't have to go it alone,” he said softly. “If you want, I can lend a few hours of my time and teach you.”
Scootaloo looked up again, her wings buzzing with anticipation. “Really?” she asked hopefully.
“Of course,” smiled Rumble. “Other fillies and colts have often joked that, as a flyer, I'd make a great teacher; but looking back, I reckon they may have a point. So how about it, Scootaloo? Want me to be your other personal trainer?”
“Why, sure,” replied Scootaloo. “If you're up to it, that is.”
“Well, being such an accomplished flyer and all, I could well be,” asserted Rumble. “So yeah, when are you next available?”
Scootaloo paused, trying to remember what she had planned that week. “Well...how about Monday after school?”
“That sounds fine,” agreed Rumble. “Right – so we have ourselves a da...um, I mean session! Sorry!” he finished sheepishly, chuckling with mild embarrassment and turning his head away to avoid what he thought would be a death-glare from Scootaloo.
The orange Pegasus filly gave Rumble an odd look for a moment, but eventually this gave way to an amused smirk. “Do you actually need to look like that, Rumble?” she quipped. “You've managed to fix a date with me, what more could you ask for?”
“Um...nothing.” Rumble quickly relaxed, though the word “date” seemed to have a strange effect on him. The moment that word came out of Scootaloo's mouth, his face turned a barely noticeable pink shade, and his heartbeat seemed to speed up. “Anyway, I'd better be off; it's nearly lunchtime, and Dad's gonna wonder where I am. See you on Monday, Scootaloo,” and he spread his wings ready to fly away.
“Okay, Rumble,” began Scootaloo. “See you r...” but she quickly broke off as Rumble let out a slight gasp of pain. His left wing didn't appear to be flexing as easily as it should have been. “You okay?”
“Not quite,” admitted Rumble, sitting back down and inspecting his wing. “I think I might have bruised my wing pretty bad when you crashed into me.”
“Oh, nuts!” groaned Scootaloo, slapping a hoof to her face in annoyance. “I knew I should have looked where I was going. I'm really sorry, Rumble.”
“It's okay, Scootaloo; I should have moved aside when I saw you coming my way. Now I'm gonna be late getting home for lunch.”
Scootaloo glanced unhappily towards her scooter, still mentally berating herself for how she had injured her new friend – until an idea flew into her head. “Tell you what, Rumble,” she offered, “how about I give you a ride home?”
“Really?” asked Rumble, looking up in amazement. “You ride me home? On your own scooter?”
“Well yeah; I can easily manage with a bit of extra weight.”
At first, Rumble didn't know what to think. It had been a while since he had last ridden a scooter, so it almost felt like a new experience – but add the fact that it was being driven by a budding stunt-riding superstar, and it felt so much like a foalhood fantasy that he almost thought he was dreaming. “Um......sure,” he stammered, still unable to believe what he was hearing.
“Then hop aboard and hold tight,” replied Scootaloo, who was now getting well into her stride, “'cause this'll be an experience like no other!”
Quietly assuring himself that this was no dream, Rumble carefully mounted the scooter behind the orange Pegasus filly and wrapped his forelegs tightly around her waist. Upon feeling his strong grip, Scootaloo couldn't help blushing; but she quickly snapped herself out of it and, after checking that Rumble was safely aboard, began to flap her wings at a tremendous rate.
Within seconds, they were practically motoring through Ponyville at an almost unbelievable speed. For Scootaloo, it was just another spin on her trusty scooter; but to Rumble, it didn't feel like a normal scooter ride as much as a supersonic flight high up in the sky. The wind whipped through his dark grey mane as shops, houses, townsponies and various other objects flashed by, some of them almost brushing against him as Scootaloo steered expertly to one side just a fraction of a second before hitting them. Such was Rumble's excitement that he let out a loud, joyous cheer and clung harder to the orange Pegasus; it was worth having a bruised wing to savour this experience, and already he was beginning to wish it would never end.
But his excitement suddenly turned to fear as he noticed an overturned cart blocking their path. “Scootaloo, look out!” he shrieked.
“What...” began Scootaloo, looking ahead. She then caught sight of the cart rapidly approaching them, and turned her head back; “Hang on, Rumble!” she shouted above the noise of the wind. “I'm taking evasive action!”
Before Rumble could ask what she was about to do, Scootaloo jumped upwards, taking Rumble and her scooter with her. With just a few inches of clearance between the cart and their wheels, they sailed over it and touched down a short distance away before zooming onwards. Rumble gazed back over his shoulder in amazement, barely able to believe what had just transpired.
But all too soon, the fun was over. Catching a glimpse of Rumble's house up ahead, Scootaloo gradually slowed her wings down, allowing them to coast to a halt just outside the front door. “How about that for a fast run up to your house, huh, Rumble?!” she chortled as they dismounted her scooter.
“That was brilliant, Scootaloo!” answered Rumble, still laughing gleefully. “You're way better on that scooter than I realised!”
“Ah, nothing really,” said Scootaloo modestly. “Anypony can pull off all those cool stunts – just takes practice is all.”
Rumble smiled and knocked at the door. Shortly after, it opened up to reveal a bluish-grey Pegasus stallion with golden mane and tail, whom Scootaloo immediately realised must be Rumble's father.
“Hullo, Rumble,” remarked the stallion. “You're back pretty early.”
Rumble could hardly believe his ears. “Am I?”
“Yeah, you said you'd be back about half-twelve, but it's just gone quarter-past.”
“Fifteen minutes early?! Wow!” exclaimed Rumble. “I never expected us to be back that quick!”
The stallion chuckled, and looked down towards Scootaloo. “Is this a new friend of yours?” he asked, interested.
“She sure is,” affirmed Rumble. “Scootaloo, this is my Dad, Blue Finch; Dad, Scootaloo.”
“Pleasure,” said Scootaloo, shaking hooves with the stallion.
“So you're Scootaloo, huh?” remarked Blue Finch. “Well, this sure is a pleasant surprise; Rumble talks about you all the time, but it's nice to finally meet you. Pardon me for being nosy about this, Rumble, but how did you come to meet her?”
“Ah......um, about that; I accidentally crashed into him while I was making my way across town on my scooter,” explained Scootaloo meekly. “I was in a bit of a state, and...”
“It was my fault, Dad,” interrupted Rumble. “I was so preoccupied with how good she was with her scooter that I didn't realise I was in her way until too late, and I came out of it with a bruised wing; but Scootaloo offered me a ride home.” He held up his left wing to show the injury that he had incurred, wincing slightly from the soreness of the bruising.
Blue Finch inspected Rumble's wing carefully. “Ooh dear me, that looks bad,” he mused. “I'll see if I can find something for that bruise. You two come on in and take a seat.” He then turned and made his way upstairs while Scootaloo followed Rumble into the living room.
As the two foals entered, Scootaloo surveyed her surroundings with interest. The room was built in a somewhat dated but nevertheless cosy half-timbered style like an old Equestrian cottage, with a stone fireplace on the far side. A stunning painting of Cloudsdale hung above it, and the mantelpiece featured a small collection of trophies in addition to the various other ornaments that stood either side of them. In the middle of the room stood a sofa, two armchairs and a small coffee table.
“You've sure got a nice house here, Rumble,” she observed. “It feels so......homely.”
Rumble smiled warmly. “Glad you like it, Scootaloo,” he replied, settling down on the sofa. “This place used to be pretty dank before we moved in when I was three, but Mom and Dad did such a good job of redecorating it that you'd hardly have known it had ever been so crummy.”
“Your parents refurbished this place themselves?!” asked Scootaloo, more than a little surprised.
“Not really, but my Mom's a brilliant interior designer,” explained Rumble. “Some of her designs even met the approval of the Princesses, and she's earned this family a lot of money. Most parents would have turned their back on such a run-down place as this used to be, but between her design skills and our bank balance she easily managed to restore this house within a few months.”
Scootaloo was most impressed. “And she's sure done a good job of it too,” she remarked. “What about your Dad, what does he do for a living?”
“Oh, he's a well-known athlete,” answered Rumble proudly. “He's won around five gold medals, six silver and two bronze in various Pegasus derbies over the years, and even represented Ponyville for the Equestria Games once.”
“Wow, Rumble!” said Scootaloo, intrigued. “You have a world-class athlete for a father? You really are a lucky colt.” She turned her attention to the mantelpiece; “Are those trophies all his then?”
“Actually, no. Most of them are awards that Mom won for her designs; only that big golden one in the middle and that tall, thin one next to it belong to him. The smaller one was given to him at the Junior Speedsters' Award Ceremony when he was only a colt, and the other was his prize for winning the annual Best Young Flyers' Competition at the age of sixteen. He does have his medals framed in this very room though,” went on Rumble, and pointed to the wall behind them, where all his father's medals hung in a small display cabinet.
Scootaloo marvelled at the lovingly polished medals. “That sure is an impressive collection there,” she mused. “I can see now where you and Thunderlane get your flying skills from.”
Rumble chuckled. “Yeah, it runs in the family...except for a cousin of mine from Trottingham; her wings are pretty frail, so she can't stay in the air more than about a minute or so.” His face fell as he thought about his unfortunate cousin. “The sad part is that she's unable to live her own dream of becoming a Wonderbolt, like Rainbow Dash might well do soon enough.”
“That's a shame,” sympathised Scootaloo. “I can imagine how that must feel. How did she get that way anyhow?”
But almost immediately the orange Pegasus filly regretted asking that question. Rumble looked down upon one of the cushions with a mournful frown on his face. “She had been that way since birth,” he confided. “She seemed pretty healthy at first, but just after she was born, the doctor discovered that her wings were badly underdeveloped. Her mother was really heartbroken when she heard the bad news, and I myself feel like such a snob every time she comes to visit.” A small tear trickled down his cheek and was soaked up by the soft fabric. “Sometimes I just wish I could trade my strong, healthy wings for her broken ones and let her fulfil her dreams in my place.”
Scootaloo was only just managing to fight back tears herself after hearing Rumble's sad tale. Her heart went out to him and his disabled cousin as she imagined a distressed young mare surrounded by Wonderbolts posters and other merchandise, crying her eyes out while scores other of Pegasi in Wonderbolt flying overalls soared and swooped all around her.
Leaning forward, she gently rested a hoof on Rumble's shoulder. “I'm so sorry about your cousin, Rumble,” she said softly. “I can understand not being able to fly at a young age, but that's really, really sad.”
Rumble was so touched by Scootaloo's unusually kind words that he didn't know how to respond. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he flung his forelegs around the orange Pegasus filly and buried his face in her shoulder, moistening it with warm tears. At any other time, her gut reaction to what was going on right now would have been “mushy”, but on this occasion, she couldn't care less. Instead, she simply returned the embrace and stroked his dark grey mane soothingly.
“You needn't beat yourself up about it though,” she went on. “I can see she means a lot to you, but how do you think she would react if one of her own family tree had sacrificed his own flying capabilities just so she could fulfil her dream? So perhaps we Pegasi take our wings for granted, but you're really, really lucky to be able to fly so well yourself – and that's something you should be grateful for.”
“Really?” asked Rumble, looking into her eyes.
“Of course,” affirmed Scootaloo. “You're a great flyer and an equally good friend; no-one could ask for more out of you.”
Another few tears trickled out of Rumble's eyes. “Thanks, Scootaloo,” he whispered warmly. “That means so much to me.”
“Sorry, was I interrupting anything?”
Both Pegasi sprang apart, startled, as Blue Finch walked into the room with a bottle of Aloe Vera in one hoof.
“Um...no, Dad, I was just telling Scootaloo about my cousin, but I got a bit, um...emotional about it,” replied Rumble sheepishly.
Blue Finch nodded solemnly, remembering the number of times he had caught Rumble alone in his room, mourning over his cousin's inability to fly. “I know, it's most unfortunate,” he sympathised. “It must have taken a fair bit of gut to reveal that to Scootaloo.”
“Well, I can understand how she feels, Mr Finch,” observed Scootaloo. “I'm useless at flying so far, and that was why Rumble had offered to teach me.”
“My word, Rumble, that's very thoughtful of you,” remarked Blue Finch kindly. “Seems those other foals may be right about you becoming a good flight teacher – but that's not going to happen unless your wing is in better condition, so let's get you fixed up.”
“Okay, Dad,” and Rumble held out his left wing. Blue Finch poured a small amount of the Aloe onto a cotton pad and gently rubbed it into the bruise on his son's wing. Though it stung a little at first, Rumble soon felt the soreness slowly dissipate.
“There you go, son. That should heal up by tomorrow morning, but remember not to flex it in any way until then,” advised Blue Finch as he finally finished.
Rumble smiled and nuzzled his father. “Thanks, Dad,” he said.
“No problem, son. It's what I'm here for,” chuckled Blue Finch. He then turned his attention to Scootaloo; “How about some lunch then?” he offered.
Scootaloo blinked in bewilderment. “Wait just a minute – you're asking me if I wanna have lunch with you guys after I slammed into your son?!” she spluttered in disbelief.
Blue Finch laughed heartily. “Well, why not?” he retorted. “You didn't mean to crash into him, and besides, you made up for it by bringing him home after you found out about his bruised wing.”
“Yeah, I suppose there is that,” agreed Scootaloo thoughtfully. “Okay, Mr Finch, I'm sold.”