“So, lemme get this straight. We’re Cutie Mark Crusaders Chicken Rescuers, right?”
Sweetie Belle regarded Scootaloo with a look one might give to child who just spent the last twenty minutes kicking the back of your seat, and then, once you’ve turned around to confront the child, pretends like they don’t know what you’re talking about. Needless to say, it was a very annoyed look. “Yes,” she said, “we’re going to rescue Fluttershy’s chicken that got loose.”
“How do you even tighten a chicken?” asked Apple Bloom.
Both Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo ignored her.
“I mean, it seemed like a good idea at the time,” said Scootaloo, “but now I’m starting to wonder what a chicken-rescuing cutie mark would even look like, and if I’d even want one. Like, who wants to rescue chickens for their whole life?”
Sweetie Belle sighed. “Look, it’s not so much that we actually want chicken-rescuing to be our cutie mark. It’s more the cathartic feeling we get from simply trying to further ourselves toward a goal, while ignoring obvious clues that would lead us to our real talents along the way. Remember,” she said, “we’re just dumb kids, and we’re easily distracted, so it makes sense that we’d jump at the opportun—Look!”
Sweetie Belle’s hoof suddenly shot out as she pointed at a bush rustling in the distance. It rustled a few more times, drawing the other ponies’ attention.
“Wh-what do you think it is?” asked Scootaloo, shivering more from the cold than fear.
Apple Bloom cracked her knuckles, or she would have if that were possible for horses. It was more of a symbolic gesture than anything. “I don’t know, but I’mma go in there and beat it up. That’s what Applejack would do.”
Sweetie Belle looked over at Apple Bloom. “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Do you just do whatever your sister does?”
Apple Bloom shrugged. “I think that’s just so supposed to be my character, or somethin’. I seem to change every other day, so I dunno.”
“Uhh, guys,” said Scootaloo, tapping the two fillies on the shoulder. “Did you forget about the monster in the bush?” She pointed to the bush as it started to rustle again, and more vigorously this time.
“I swear, if a something stupid like bunny rabbit jumps out I’m quitting this story,” said Sweetie Belle with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.
“Doesn’t look like any rabbit I ever saw,” said Scootaloo. “It’s too big. I bet it’s a—” She cut herself off mid sentence as the beast leapt from the bush. “Werewolf?”
The werewolf gave a howl that would’ve chilled the bones of a frozen skeleton, then stared straight at the fillies, its yellow eyes glowing in the dark.
“Huh,” said Sweetie Belle, pursing her lips. “I wasn’t expecting that. I’d run if I were you, Scootaloo. I’d bet all Rarity’s money it’s going to go after you.”
Scootaloo blew a raspberry while waving her hoof dismissively. “Nah, he’s too nice to do that. Right, boy?” Approaching the werewolf, Scootaloo reached up and began scratching behind its ear. It thumped its foot gleefully, then gave another howl and ran away. “Told ya,” said Scootaloo smugly.
“I wouldn’t get too cocky if I were you,” said Sweetie Belle, equally smugly, as she nodded at the bush that had started rustling again.
Scootaloo glanced at the bush. She looked back at Sweetie Belle. “Twenty bits says this time it’s an oliphant.”
Apple Bloom raised her eyebrow. “An oli-what?”
Sweetie Belle laughed. “Just because your fancy talking money told you that, doesn’t meant it’s going to be true. There’s no way something as big as an oliphant could hide in that—Oh sweet Celestia.”
Sweetie Bell’s eyes went wide as a massive oliphant rose from behind the bush. It stood at least a hundred and fifty feet tall, and its massive tusks knocked down trees left and right. As it bellowed a somber call, the oliphant lumbered off into the forest.
Scootaloo smirked. She held out her hoof. “That’ll be twenty bits.”
Grumbling, Sweetie Belle fished around in her pockets, which she totally has by the way, for the money, then handed it over to Scootaloo begrudgingly. “How’d you know it was going to be an oliphant?” she asked.
Scootaloo counted out the bits to herself. Once she was satisfied, she shot Sweetie Belle a smug grin and touched her forehead with a hoof, saying, “I’m psychic.”
Apple Bloom frowned. “I thought y’all needed a doctorate for that?”
“No, that’s psychology, Bloom,” said Scootaloo with a roll of her eyes. “I can predict the future is what I’m saying.”
“Oh yeah?” said Sweetie Belle, walking over to Scootaloo and poking a hoof into her chest.” Prove it. How are you gonna die this time?”
Scootaloo’s lips tugged into a grin, and she leaned against a nearby tree branch. “I won’t,” she said.
“Won’t say how?”
“Won’t die.”
Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”
“Because Fluttershy’s going to save us,” said Scootaloo with a smirk. She tapped her forehead again. “I’ve seen it.”
“Mhmm,” said Sweetie Belle, nodding her head slowly. “So does that mean we’re done here?”
“Yep,” Scootaloo chirped.
“Well then…” Sweetie Belle said, shrugging. “I guess this chapter’s over. So long, farewell, aufiderzein, goodbye.”
“Sayonara, suckers,” said Apple Bloom, waving at no one in particular.
Scootaloo then saluted, said, “Peace out, fools,” and the three fillies continued on with their mission of finding Elizabeak like nothing had happened.