Scootaloo feels the biting wind race across her face. The purple scarf wrapped around her neck doesn't help. Neither do her horseshoes. The snow is up to the crook of her knee. She looks upon the land laid out before her. There is everypony in Ponyville, working hard. After all, it is Winter Wrap Up Day.
She looks for specific ponies. To the northeast is Rainbow Dash, working hard with other pegasi to obliterate the clouds. Scootaloo remembers back when she used to idolize that mare. Rainbow Dash was the only pony in Equestria that she had ever respected. But then she had learned of her condition. She had a debilitating disease that prevented her wings from growing, and, through this, prevented her from ever being able to fly.
Scootaloo spots Twilight closer to town, checking off tons of things on a clipboard. Scootaloo can't suppress the small giggle that escapes her mouth when she remembers that book Twilight had lent her and - and - and the other crusaders. They'd accidentally caused Big Macintosh and their teacher Cheerilee to fall madly in love.
Then Scootaloo sees Apple Bloom. The yellow mare is busily repainting some houses that had been damaged by the saturation from the snow. Scootaloo is breathing shakily now. She remembers the day that Apple Bloom had gotten her cutie mark.
They hadn't been told. They hadn't been warned. They'd just been bailed out on. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo had sat in the Cutie Mark Crusaders clubhouse for four hours, waiting for Apple Bloom to arrive at the meeting. When she hadn't show, they had left.
The next day, the yellow earth pony hadn't been at school, so the two thought that she was just sick. But, after school that day, they had gone to Sugarcube Corner. They had walked in the door to find Apple Bloom, eating a cupcake. Scootaloo had been ruthless. She had smacked the cupcake out of her friend's hand, pushed Apple Bloom down, and demanded to know why the earth pony hadn't been at school, and, more importantly, why she had bailed on them.
Sweetie Belle had been forced to wrench Scootaloo off of Apple Bloom. Apple Bloom had stood up, and Sweetie Belle had caught a glimpse of her friend's flank. There was a paintbrush, with a bit of green paint on the bristles. Scootaloo still remembers the words Sweetie Belle had said. "Hey, what's that?" At the time, six year old Scootaloo had thought it to be a stupid question. But, know that she was twice as old, she understood. Sweetie Belle hadn't been talking about the cutie mark. She had been talking about the friendship the trio had once had. Once Apple Bloom had received her cutie mark, she had inexorably forsaken her fellow crusaders.
A tear slides down Scootaloo's cheek. She gazes at the meadow near Fluttershy's house. There is Sweetie Belle, her beautiful singing voice resonating off of the trees and hills, calling all of the birds to her. Once they arrive, she directs them to their nests. Despite her mental will, Scootaloo slips into the memory she had stored away. The memory of Sweetie Belle's departure.
Scootaloo had been sitting in the Cutie Mark Crusaders clubhouse when Sweetie Belle had arrived. The orange pegasus had immediately known that something was wrong. When she asked, she had been told to sit down. Scootaloo had hesitantly sat down on one of the beanbag chairs.
"I've got some bad news." Sweetie Belle had said, still not walking through the door frame.
"What is it?" Scootaloo had warily asked.
"I've been offered a job." Sweetie Belle had answered.
"A job? But you're nine!" Scootaloo had blurted out.
"I know." Sweetie Belle had replied, hanging her head. "They made a special exception. Because of the circumstances."
"What circumstances?" Scootaloo had asked.
"I got my cutie mark." Sweetie Bell had said, turning to show her friend. There sat a microphone.
Scootaloo's face had paled. "That's - that's great." She had said. "Who's the job with?"
"Scootaloo, I'm sorry, I didn't ask for the job, it's just -" Sweetie Belle had apologized.
"Who's the job with?" Scootaloo had repeated.
"The Equestrian Chorale." Sweetie Belle answered.
"The traveling group?" Scootaloo had asked.
"Yes." Sweetie Belle had answered. A pair of tears had spilled over her lower eyelids, sliding down her face. "I'm sorry." She had repeated. "I'm so, so, sorry. I'll visit you whenever we're in Ponyville."
"No, you don't have to." Scootaloo had said. "You can stay with your new friends in the group. I'll be fine on my own." Scootaloo had stood up and begun walking to the door.
"No, I want to visit you." Sweetie Belle had replied, blocking the pegasus' exit.
"I don't want you to." Scootaloo had asserted. "Now let me leave."
"Why don't you want me to visit you?" Sweetie Belle had pleaded, her tears falling faster now.
"I SAID LET ME LEAVE!" Scootaloo had screamed, pushing past the unicorn and running off into the orchard. Once she had reached a small, secluded lake, Scootaloo sat down and began to weep. Her only remaining friend, Sweetie Belle, had just announced her hiring. In a traveling singing group. Normally, Scootaloo would have been fine with this. But Sweetie Belle had paired that with other news. she had received her cutie mark. Now the two of them had nothing in common.
Scootaloo was alone from that point forth.
Now the tears are racing down Scootaloo's face, and she doesn't try to stop them. She walks to the edge of the snowy cliff and looks down. It's a long way, a good five hundred feet to the hard ground below. The wind carries the sweet voice of Sweetie Belle to Scootaloo's ears.
"We are the Cutie Mark Crusaders, on the quest to find out who we are..."
That's it. One line. But it's enough. Suddenly, Scootaloo is seized by a grief much stronger than that which had already taken hold of her. She had climbed the steep hill for this reason, but know, she felt as if the reason had become a necessity.
"No, Sweetie Belle." Scootaloo says. "There's no 'we' anymore. I'm all that's left."
Scootaloo's final tear escapes from her eye.
"I am the Cutie Mark Crusader." She whispers.
Scootaloo jumps. Seeing the ground rushing toward her, her primeval instincts force her to flap her wings. But it's in vain. She can't fly. The ground rushes forward to meet her.
Scootaloo lies unmoving on the ground, her open eyes staring at nothing. A pool of dark blood slowly begins to spread from the pegasus' body. Scootaloo's last tear releases its grip on her face, mixing unnoticed with the blood.