Scootaloo tugged a feather out of her wing, spitting it onto the ground as she and her two friends walked down a shaded path. “Bluh, what the heck’s going on?” she asked, glancing over at Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom. “All my feathers are coming loose.” She pulled another feather out with her teeth.
“Oh!” said Apple Bloom suddenly. “I’ve seen this before with our chickens!”
Sweetie Belle raised a sarcastic eyebrow. “Apple Bloom knows something. Stop the presses.”
“Oh, hardy har,” said Apple Bloom, rolling her eyes. She turned to Scootaloo. “It looks like you’re molting. At least, that’s what happens to the chickens when they lose their feathers.”
Scootaloo spat a mouthful of feathers on to the ground. “So, like, they’re gonna grow back, right? I don’t think I could live my life as a cripple.”
“You wouldn’t be a cripple. You just wouldn’t have feathers,” said Sweetie Belle.
“Is that any kind of life to live!?” Scootaloo shouted, her mouth full of feathers.
Sweetie Belle held up her hooves. “Calm down, Elijah Price. I’m just saying it probably wouldn’t be that bad.”
“Well, anyway,” said Scootaloo as she turned to Apple Bloom. “What am I supposed to do now that I’m molting?”
Shrugging, Apple Bloom said, “Beats me. Usually we just leave the chickens alone, and they get better.”
Scootaloo started rubbing against a tree, scratching her wings and causing more feathers to fall out. “It itches like crap. Ya think there’s something I can do about it?”
“Hey, Fluttershy has chickens too, right?” asked Sweetie Belle. “And she’s a pegasus too. Maybe she can help you?”
Running her back up and down the tree, Scootaloo started to notice that in addition to her feathers falling out, her fur was now coming out in clumps too. “Yeah, and sooner is probably better than later. I’m starting to think this isn’t just molting.”
Apple Bloom’s eyes went wide as she saw that Scootaloo now looked like a dog stricken with mange. “I’ve never seen the chickens look like that. Let’s hurry up and get to Fluttershy’s house.”
By the time the three fillies had reached Fluttershy’s house, Scootaloo’s skin was bare, and her wings were featherless lumps. She looked like a pink little turkey right before it gets thrown in the oven.
Sweetie Belle rapped her hoof against the door. “Fluttershy! Fluttershy!”
It only took a second before the door swung open. Fluttershy had a crazed look in her eye, and she let out a gasp, covering her mouth with a hoof.
“Philomena! Oh, thank Celestia you’re back! I was so worried you’d run away forever.” She grabbed Scootaloo and pulled her inside, offering a quick, “Thank you, girls!” before slamming the door shut behind her.
“Philo-who? No, I’m—”
Fluttershy shoved a bowl of soup in Scootaloo’s face, forcing the liquid down her throat. “Here, drink this. I was worried sick about you, Philomena. Just worried sick.” Pulling a blanket down from the back of a chair, she slung it around Scootaloo and wrapped her up tightly.
Scootaloo tried to protest, but the blanket was pressed against her face, making it so she could only make vague muffled noises, none of which seemed to get through to Fluttershy who was busy filing a glass of water at the sink.
As she brought the water over to Scootaloo, she produced a pair of small pills from wherever ponies keep things. “Do you want the red pill, or the blue pill?”
Scootaloo tried to shake her head, but Fluttershy just gave a laugh that was somehow both adorable and frightening.
“I’m just kidding. You have to take both.” She then popped the pills in Scootaloo’s mouth and put the glass of water up to her lips, keeping it there until the filly had finished swallowing the pills. Patting Scootaloo on the back, she said, “There, there, Philomena. Now you’ll be all better.”
Scootaloo, despite Fluttershy’s encouraging words, was not, in fact, feeling all better. She felt her throat tightening, and there was a burning in her chest. She tried to wriggle her way out of the blanket swaddle, but her strength was quickly fading. As the world started to turn black around her, she used the last of her breath to curse Fluttershy through the blanket.
As Scootaloo slumped to the ground, Fluttershy gasped again. “Wait, you’re not Philomena!” She tore the blanket off. “Scootaloo?” She nudged Scootaloo, and, receiving no response, she gulped, putting the blanket back over her.
“So, Twilight, that’s how I accidentally killed Scootaloo,” said Fluttershy before sipping from a cup of tea. “And I want to stress accidentally.”
“What kind of medicine did you give her?” asked Twilight, holding her hoof out.
“Oh, it’s a special medicine that heals birds, but is incredibly deadly to any other animal or pony,” said Fluttershy matter-of-factly.
“Why would you even have something like that?”
Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you don’t have medicine specifically designed to kill non-ponies?”
Twilight opened her mouth to protest, then put her hoof down and said, “Fair enough.”