//------------------------------// // I Usually Only Make a Mistake Once // Story: Scootaloo Will Fly! // by MyHobby //------------------------------// Tuesday passed almost without comment. Apple Bloom said she would be happy to join the gang at the movies, especially considering the free ticket from Rainbow Dash. “Y’ gotta promise yah won’t go sneaking snacks into the theater like last time. Y’ almost got us kicked out!” “That was a fluke. I’ve got it all figured out. All I need to do is leave out the peanut brittle—” “Scoots!” “I mean ‘yes, ma’am.’” The day’s rain made farm work that much harder, but it was nothing compared to Wednesday’s deluge. For one day, maybe once a month, an unrelenting storm was necessary to balance out the pressure system, return moisture to the soil, and blow off a little of the bleed-over Everfree magic all in one go. When the weather schedule required it, it was astonishingly easy to put together a storm. Just pack up a bunch of clouds, bunch them together over the town, and let one end touch the boarder of the Everfree Forest. The chaotic magic in that patch of land would do most of the work. Unfortunately, the storm was easy to start but impossible to control. Outdoor activities were kept at a minimum by the townsfolk. Gardens were worried over from a distance. The market was as barren as a ghost town. The outdoor tables of restaurants were gathered up and ushered into storage closets. Anypony who needed to go anywhere wore heavy coats and boots at the least. So the Apples gave Scootaloo Wednesday off. She spent most of the day in her room, listening to the rain beat against her window and flipping through the new Daring Do novel. She tried to help her father in his shop for about an hour, before she realized that nopony was gonna go sofa-shopping on a day like that. Princess Twilight did stop by to purchase a bulk order of quills, but they hardly needed Scootaloo to help with that. They’d done it so often she wouldn’t have been surprised if Twilight ordered new quills in her sleep. “I’m gonna need double this time,” Twilight said. “I’ll be conducting an experiment in writing two papers at the same time. It’ll no doubt cut composition time in fractions once I manage it. And if the first time works out, I’ll continue to increase the number of quills in flight.” Davenport blinked. “You’re not going to be writing while flying, are you?” “What? No. ‘Flight’ meaning the quills will be in the air. In my magic. Writing. While I’m planted firmly on the ground.” Twilight’s wings extended, lifting her heavy coat a little. “I won’t be able to fly while writing for at least another year of practice.” “That’s just asking for trouble,” Scootaloo mentioned from a nearby couch seat. “Rainbow Dash always says that a pegasus that isn’t looking where she’s going is going to end up someplace she wasn’t looking for.” (1): Nowhere being somewhere in particular, but nowhere you’d think was somewhere you’d particularly like. Pocket dimensions were just that: Pockets of space. They were about the size of a lockbox, and could hold little more than important documents or trinkets. Only highly powerful unicorns were able to generate this particular distortion of time and space, and most of those only used it as a sort of high-status parlor trick. Twilight, however, was a scientist, and wasted space was a grievous sin. Twilight pouted. She pulled a checklist from Nowhere (1) and scribbled a quick note. “I could have some sort of collision detection spell in effect to prevent running into the odd windmill or two, but I do suppose I can’t account for cross breezes from blowing me off course enough to send me flying over the Everfree or somewhere else I’d rather not go. Perhaps a compass spell to make sure I always point in the same direction. That way I can travel as the bird flies, literally.” Images of a purple alicorn covered in a cloud of scrolls and surrounded by a swarm of quills, flying her merry way over hill and dale, oblivious to the air traffic accidents she was causing, flew through Scootaloo’s mind. “This is assuming you don’t cause some sort of magic explosion by splitting your concentration between that much calligraphy.” “The worst that could happen is that my magic would fritz out and the quills would drop.” Twilight smiled. She frowned. “Sending a million sharp objects tumbling down to Ponyville, landing atop a few dozen innocent bystanders.” Davenport patted the box of quills. “Will you not be needing these anymore, your Highness?” (2): Yes, the Equestrian money system is made up of bits and pieces. “Oh, no, I’ll need them.” Twilight passed him a bag of silver pieces (2) while she took the box in her telekinetic grip. “This experiment is just gonna… remain grounded.” She nodded to Scootaloo. “I guess I still need somepony to bop me on the back of the head now and then. Thanks for the advice.” “No problem, I only charge a bit for wisdom.” Scootaloo smirked. “But the first is free.” “Very reasonable.” Twilight Sparkle settled the box between her wings. “So the scuttlebutt around town is that you’re training to fly again.” Scootaloo scrunched up her nose. “Did you actually hear that from Mister Scuttlebutt, or do you mean—?” Twilight snorted. “Come on, I’m the Princess of Friendship. Give my social awareness some credit.” She tilted her head and knitted her eyebrows. “How’s that coming along?” Scootaloo tapped her forehooves together. “About like you’d expect, given the last few attempts.” Twilight blew a breath through her nose. “You know, at this point I’d almost recommend a full magic examination. Something doesn’t fit. What I’ve gathered from your magic output is astounding; there’s no reason I can see that you shouldn’t be—” “Easy. It’s not like I’m giving up anytime soon.” Scootaloo rolled onto her back, leaning her head over the armrest. “Those docs won’t find anything you haven’t seen already. I’m sure of it.” Twilight lowered her eyebrows. “You know, if you wanted a little help, I know a spell that can conjure up a pair of nice—” “Butterfly wings?” Scootaloo snickered. “Thanks for the offer, Twilight, but wings of gossamer and morning dew won’t hold up to a scooter ride, much less the kind of flying it takes to keep up with Rainbow Dash.” Twilight closed her eyes and chuckled. “Fair enough. But it would go with your cutie mark.” Scootaloo looked at the crazy purple butterfly on her rump. “Well, you got me there. I’ll keep it in mind.” Twilight pulled a pocket watch out of Nowhere. “Two o’clock. Three hours until the city council meeting tonight. Can I expect to see you in the audience, Davenport?” The stallion had gone back to attempting to organize his stock. He marked off a ticket for Silver Spoon with the pencil in his mouth, then turned to Twilight. “Yup. Me and Rose are gonna be listening in as usual. We brought tomatoes to throw in case Miss Mare gets uppity.” Twilight grinned. “I’ll have Big Mac standing by to escort you from the premises.” She looked over her shoulder. “How about you, Scootaloo? Planning on supporting your town?” “Naw, I’m babysitting.” Scootaloo jumped over the side of the couch. “I’m staying with the Cake kids so that their parents and Pinkie can attend.” “Fair enough,” Twilight said. “Then I’ll see you tonight, Davenport, and I’ll see you later, Scootaloo.” She paused at the door, hesitant to step out into the blustering wind. “And I’m rooting for you, Scootaloo.” “Thanks,” Scootaloo said. “That means a lot.” With the princess departed, Davenport turned to Scootaloo. “I’m sorry, Kid. We’d get you a full exam if we could afford it, but—” “But the insurance won’t cover it without some big disaster.” Scootaloo hugged him from the side. “I know, Dad. Besides, what would it be able to tell me besides ‘You’re overflowing with magic, but still can’t fly’?” “Well…” Davenport shrugged. “There’s always a hope.” Scootaloo smirked. “I’ve got more than hope, Dad. I’ve got a goal.” Scootaloo winced as the wind blew another splash of rain into her eyes. She held her hoof up and held back a smattering of the globs with magic, but most of them were moving too fast. Despite the rain cloak, the hefty hood and hat, and the big, hulking, Apple family-style galoshes, she was still getting soaked to the bone. Lightning flashed a little too bright, and thunder boomed a little too close. She huddled against the door to Sugarcube Corner and pounded it with her hoof. She saw somepony run across the street a few feet from her, almost carried aloft by the gale. He grasped a streetlamp and dragged himself into a nearby shop. She shivered for a moment before thumping the door again. “Sorry! Sorry!” a bright voice said from inside. “I’m coming! Rice, don’t eat that! Pound, get your brother off of the cash register! The silly goof doesn’t know that those coins aren’t chocolate!” The door opened outward, and Pinkie Pie beamed at Scootaloo. “Oh good, you’re alright. I was starting to worry. Come in before you melt!” Scootaloo ducked into Sugarcube Corner’s dining area with a laugh. “I’m not made of sugar, Pinkie.” Pinkie Pie rushed to a mirror she’d hastily set up on a table. She daubed her eyelid with mascara, but not before poking herself with the brush. “Ouch! C’mon, muscle memory, don’t fail me now.” Without looking up from her makeup, Pinkie rattled off to Scootaloo, “Pound’s done with his homework, but Pumpkin still has a dozen or so problems to work through. Story problems. Nasty stuff. Patty plans on whupping a dragon tonight, so you’ll wanna look through the dress-up stuff. Gummy can help with that one. I whipped up a casserole, and you’re welcome to help yourself at suppertime. Rice’s bottle is in the fridge. You know how to heat it up. I’ve picked out a few appropriate titles for bedtime story time, so we don’t get another week-long nightmare.” Pinkie Pie turned to Scootaloo, narrowed her eyes, and pointed a hoof at the pegasus. “I will know if you read them Daring Do, this I swear.” Scootaloo gave her a half-grin. “Pound and Pumpkin thought it was cool…” “So did Patty,” Pinkie sighed. Her lips parted as she checked her teeth. “Wild death traps are still a little much for a four-year-old at bedtime, though. She’s a tough little pegasus, but…” “I know,” Scootaloo said. “It won’t happen again. Don’t worry about it. I usually only make a mistake once.” Pinkie’s ear twitched. “Pound, Rice is trying to eat the bits again!” “On it, Pinkie!” Pound shouted from the other room. “And keep him with you this time!” Pinkie’s muzzle scrunched up. “By my guestimate, Rice is approximately three weeks until a full-blown magic burst. Batten down the hatches, my friend. You may see some silly stuff tonight.” Pinkie Pie gave herself another once-over, nodded in satisfaction, and hugged Scootaloo close. “And thanks.” “Hay, no problem, Pinkie.” Scootaloo squeezed back. “You know I love watching them.” Pinkie held her at leg’s length. Her smile sparkled. “I know. I love them, too.” Her grin grew lopsided. “I just wish I could spend more time with them nowadays.” She pulled an overcoat, colored bright pink, around her shoulders. “But alas, I must go. My people need me!” She shook her head, causing her bouncy curls to bob. “Or at least Applejack does. Really, really does. Bye, kids!” The Cake children stampeded into Sugarcube Corner’s storefront. Pound hopped over the tables with his little brother on his back. Patty skidded on the tiled floor at a gallop. Pumpkin walked through a wall, her horn glowing bright blue. One by one, they embraced Pinkie. Pinkie Pie, Personal Aide to Lord Mayor Applejack, rushed out the door and into the storm. Scootaloo staggered as she was tackled by the four Cake foals. “Whoa! Hay, guys! What’s happening?” “Can we play dress up?” Patty Cake asked. “Can we play it right now?” “I wanna show you how good I’ve gotten at the exercises,” Pound said. “Can you help me with this really tricky problem?” Pumpkin scraped a hoof along the floor. Rice sucked on Pound’s ear. “Tell you what,” Scootaloo said. “Patty, you go get a couple outfits picked out for us while I see if I can help Pumpkin. Pound, you look after Rice until I get a chance to check out your techniques.” She winked at him. “But I’m pretty sure you’ve aced them.” Pound blushed beet red. “Y-yeah, I hope so.” Pumpkin led Scootaloo to the kitchen table while Patty rushed up to the playroom. She walked through the door. Scootaloo wasn’t quite watching where she was going, so she bumped her nose against the wood. Pumpkin opened the door with a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I keep forgetting that other ponies need to do that.” “Geeze.” Scootaloo tapped the door, noting that it was still as solid as it ever was. “Where’d you learn to do that, anyway?” “Where do you think?” Pumpkin said. “Playing with Pinkie Pie. I guess I just wanted to see if I could do it. And I did.” They pulled chairs up to the kitchen table. Scootaloo looked over the papers. “So is this your last week for the summer?” “Nope, next week is.” Pumpkin leaned back in her seat. “Then we finally get summer vacation.” “Sweet.” Scootaloo read the problem that was giving Pumpkin trouble. She read it again. And again. “Uh huh. Uh huh.” Pumpkin read the problem aloud. “‘Manehattan and Baltimare are sixty miles apart. Train A goes fifty miles per hour. Train B goes thirty miles per hour. If the two trains leave Manehattan and Baltimare at the same time, at what distance from Baltimare do they pass each other?’” She let her chin drop to the table. “Never, because the stupid conductors let them get on the same track so they collided and exploded.” Scootaloo picked up a pencil in her mouth. “It’s gonna be a long couple of weeks, huh?” “Yup.” Gummy had grown a bit over the years. He was about a meter long, but still didn’t seem to have a single tooth in his maw. He survived off the wet dog food Pinkie purchased from the pet supplier in town. He sucked on it before gulping down the remainder. Ponies had expressed concern that the poor dear was going to have problems if he couldn’t chew his food, but Pinkie remarked that his stomach juices were strong enough to digest metal. That tended to end the conversation. The alligator lay on his back, his toothless mouth hanging open, as little Patty Cake stood atop his belly. Her dress was made out of a variety of discarded bits of sewn-together cloth, leaving her a patchwork princess. She held a wooden wand in her mouth, which she pointed at his head. “Now you’re my friend, you big, bad dragon! You have to help me put the castle back together!” Scootaloo cheered from among the wooden blocks that the “dragon” had knocked down. The feather on her conical hat wafted to and fro. “All hail Princess Patty! Hero of the land!” Rice giggled as he sucked on the knight’s shield he’d carried into battle. Gummy rolled over and picked up a block in his mouth. He set it gently on top of another as Patty rode on his back. “We’re gonna build it bigger to keep out the Booze!” Scootaloo choked on her own spit holding back a guffaw. “Don’t you mean ‘the Smooze,’ my lady?” Patty jumped off of Gummy, ran up to Scootaloo, and flared her wings out. “The Booze is a jillian times worse than the Smooze! I stopped the dragon so that he could help fight it!” Scootaloo looked at the alligator that was dutifully rebuilding the castle. She bopped the little cardboard horn on Patty’s head. “Even the princess needs help to save the kingdom, huh?” “Uh huh!” Patty held her head high as she stared into the misty, unknown world of the playroom. “If she doesn’t have friends, a princess can’t do her job to protect her kingdom! Pinkie said so.” “Pinkie’s a very wise pony,” Scootaloo said. “I think she knows what she’s talking about.” Patty turned around. She tilted her head and pouted her lips. “Do you wanna be a princess when you grow up?” Scootaloo shook her head. “Nah, I always wanted to be an awesome flyer like Rainbow Dash.” She ruffled Patty’s blue mane. “Besides, I already am grown up.” She knelt down to the filly’s level, her hat’s feather covering one eye. “Why? Do you wanna be a princess when you grow up?” Patty performed several rapid nods. “Uh huh! I wanna wear pretty dresses and live in a castle and fight monsters!” She tilted her head. “Or maybe a firefighter.” She waved her wand at Gummy. “Higher, dragon! We have to keep out the gross, smelly, evil—” Scootaloo whipped off her hat and covered herself with a blanket. “Nothing can stop… the Booze!” Rice squealed with delight and wacked her with his shield. Patty yelped and jumped to the top of Gummy’s tower. She lifted her wand and shook sparkles off the end. “Go away, Booze! The Princess of Cake banishes you!” “Without friendship,” Scootaloo growled, “you are nothing against me!” Thunder crashed outside the window. The inside lights dimmed as lightning flashed through the curtains. The house was plunged into near-darkness in an instant. Patty screamed at the top of her lungs and fell off the tower. Scootaloo scooped her out of the air with her wings. She reached out and held the weeping Rice close to her chest. Gummy trundled between the ponies and the window and growled quietly. Scootaloo rocked the foals until they quieted down. “Hay, it’s okay. The storm’s not gonna hurt you. Easy. Easy. I’m right here, and you’re safe.” Pound opened the door to the playroom and shook his DoubleJoy Boy. “Hay, what happened to the magic? I was in the middle of level ten!” Scootaloo shushed him with a hoof to her mouth. “Lightning must have disrupted the magic flow through the house. You know you’re not supposed to use that stuff during a storm.” “Well, there wasn’t that much lightning.” Another bolt flashed, causing Pound to jump. “Until now.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. She set the little ones on her back and covered them with her wings. “Whatever. Get your sister and we can have supper.” Patty’s pink wings trembled. “Don’t wanna have supper.” Scootaloo smiled. “A princess needs to eat to keep up her strength. You can’t fight monsters if you’re not big and strong.” “Not big and strong.” Patty buried her head in Scootaloo’s neck. “Little and scared.” Scootaloo’s mouth dipped down. She shooed Pound ahead with her hoof, and then nuzzled Patty. “Hay, it’s okay.” “No, s’not.” Patty pulled her tail to her chest. “Scared of thunder.” Scootaloo looked at the little pegasus for a long moment. “Did you ever hear the story of how to giggle at the ghostly?” “No.” “Rainbow Dash told me about it. It was just after they met Twilight.” “Princess Twilight?” “Well, she wasn’t a princess, yet.” “Oh.” Scootaloo tilted her head. “All of them—Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity—were traveling through the Everfree Forest to try to find the Elements of Harmony.” Patty tilted her head. “How could Twilight go into the Everfree if she wasn’t a princess?” “She had to,” Scootaloo said. “Otherwise Nightmare Moon would make the night last forever!” Patty gasped. “That’s mean!” “Yeah, it is. They were walking through the forest, when all of the sudden, a tree opened its mouth and growled at them!” “Trees don’t have mouths.” “They do in the Everfree.” “Whoa.” “Everypony was scared! They all ran away to hide, but there were scary trees everywhere! Rainbow Dash screamed, Twilight covered her head, and they all gathered together in a group hug.” Patty hugged her tail tighter. Scootaloo reached over her to pick Rice up in her foreleg. “Do you know what happened?” Patty’s head came up. “Princess Twilight beat up the trees?” Scootaloo giggled. “No. Pinkie Pie started making faces at them.” She stuck her tongue out and made a “ffrt” sound. “The trees were just a spooky trick, and Pinkie showed the other girls that if you just laughed at the scary thing, it wasn’t so scary anymore.” Rice sucked on his hoof. Drool dribbled down his cheeks as he stared wide-eyed at Scootaloo. She ticked his horn, and he giggled. “Pinkie saved them,” Patty said. Her forehead wrinkled. “Did they beat up any monsters?” Scootaloo shook her head. “Nope.” The house shook as another thunderbolt struck. Patty covered her eyes. “I’m still scared.” “Maybe we need to do like Pinkie does.” Scootaloo forced a laugh, “Ha, ha, ha.” “Ha, ha—” Patty squeaked as lightning flashed. “Boom!” Scootaloo blew raspberries into Patty’s stomach. The filly giggled. “Boom!” Rice said. He pressed his lips together and blew bubbles. Scootaloo and Patty both laughed at him. The next time a shockwave hit the house, they all wiggled their tongues and blathered. Pound and Pumpkin sat at the table. They stared quietly at the grown pegasus mare and the two young foals making faces at each other. Pumpkin leaned on her hoof. “Well, it finally happened. Time to contact the institute.” “Pumpkin!” Pound hissed. “Cool it, you two,” Scootaloo said. She set Patty down in her chair and strapped Rice into his highchair. “I’ll get Rice’s milk fixed up and set out Pinkie’s casserole.” She grinned at Pound. “You can show me your progress after supper.” Pound puffed his chest out. “I’ll help you in the kitchen.” “Sure, why not?” Scootaloo tilted her head at Pumpkin. “Keep an eye on these two?” Pumpkin threw a mock salute. Scootaloo and Pound walked into the kitchen, where the colt took to the air. He wheeled around the room easily, pulling plates out of cupboards and stacking them on his forelegs. Scootaloo lit the stove and set a pot of water on top. Once it was warm, she pulled it off the stove and stuck the bottle of formula inside. Pound flicked the stove off. “Have you figured out how to fly, yet?” “Nadda.” Scootaloo squirted her foreleg to test the bottle’s temperature. She nodded, satisfied. “Not gonna stop me trying.” “Nah.” Pound gathered up some silverware. “I wish there was something I could do to help.” “Me, too.” Scootaloo looked up as he winged by overhead. “Doesn’t look like anything’s slowing you down!” “N-nope.” Pound stuttered. “Your instructions are really awesome.” Scootaloo waited until he’d returned from setting the table. “Maybe you’re a future Wonderbolt, huh?” “Oh. Um. Probably not.” He pulled the casserole out of the oven. “I kinda wanna be a baker like my mom, dad, and Pinkie.” “That’s cool,” Scootaloo said. She grabbed the other side of the casserole when it wobbled in his grip. “That’s really cool. What do you like to bake?” “Doughnuts.” Pound walked backwards towards the table. “Doesn’t get any better than doughnuts.” Scootaloo shifted the weight of the pan to lean more heavily on her end. “I hear doughnuts make it hard to fly.” Pound’s ears tilted down for a second, before jumping back up. “Ha. But if you eat enough doughnuts to drag you down, you clearly aren’t savoring them enough.” She laughed. The windows rattled, drawing her ear to them. “I think we’d better set up sleeping bags in the basement. I don’t like how the wind sounds against the windows.” Pound nodded as they set the pan down on the table. “Do you want me to get the stuff ready?” Scootaloo waved a hoof. “Naw, let’s eat. Then we can see your exercises. Then we can get the stuff set up. Priorities, man!” Scootaloo sat at the head of the table and clasped her hooves together. She bowed her head while the kids mimicked her stance. “Blessed are You, the Creator, King of the Universe, who taught us to bring forth bread from the earth.” Pound flapped one wing. “Never mind that none of us here are earth ponies.” “Old habits die hard, dude.” Scootaloo reached towards the casserole with a knife and cut out large slices. “Dig in, guys. Pinkie made it, so you know it’s the good stuff!” Some time of quiet eating was broken by Patty speaking up. “Do you love Rumble?” Scootaloo’s tail flicked. “Why do you ask that?” “’Cuz Lackadaisy said she saws you kiss him.” Patty’s wide, innocent eyes sparkled. “Are you gonna marry him?” Scootaloo took a big bite. “We’re barely even dating. It’s way too early to say.” “Mommy says only kiss somepony you wanna marry,” Patty said. “Do you wanna marry him?” Scootaloo slowly, steadily, carefully took a bite and chewed it one hundred times. She smirked as she watched the little filly squirm. “Maybe,” she said at last. “That’s not an answer!” Patty squealed. “It is for now.” Scootaloo twirled her spoon in the air. “It isn’t like the storybooks where a guy saves you from the monster and you live happily ever after. It’s learning about each other.” Pound gave his plate a glum look. “Yeah. We figured.” Scootaloo lifted an eyebrow. “So you put Patty up to this.” “We did,” Pumpkin said. “You know nopony tells us anything. We have…” She squinted. “Ways of finding things out. Direct interrogation is just one of them.” Scootaloo leaned her elbow on the table. “Oh really? What are the other ones?” Pumpkin patted the bottom of her poofy pigtails. “Oh, you know; eavesdropping, bribery, generally being really darn cute, but that part’s just me and my sis.” “I help!” Patty said. Scootaloo looked from Patty to Pumpkin. “What about Rice? He’s cute.” “He’s ‘baby’ cute.” Pumpkin swallowed her casserole. “We’re ‘little girl’ cute.” “They tell me it’s a big difference,” Pound mumbled. Scootaloo leaned back in her chair. “Alright then. When we’re done eating, the ‘little girl cute’ girls can help me clean up while Pound watches the ‘baby cute’ baby.” “What?” Pumpkin slumped in her chair. “Fine.” She picked at her food. “Since you’re changing the subject, I think I know how to get you to fly.” Scootaloo stuffed her half-chewed mush in her cheek. “How’zat?” Pumpkin tilted her fork back and forth on the table. She nibbled her bottom lip. “Do you think Discord would help?” Scootaloo laughed right from her belly, until the food in her cheek got caught in her throat. She hacked and coughed until she could breathe again. “Discord? The Discord?” Pound scowled. “Gotta say, Sis, that isn’t the best idea you’ve had all day.” Pumpkin crossed her forelegs. “I’m serious! The guy has magic like you wouldn’t believe, maybe even more than the princesses. He can do all these crazy things and he’s just sitting in Fluttershy’s cottage, twiddling his thumbs. He’d probably be happy for something to do.” “Yeah, but…” Pound waved his spoon around. “He’s Discord. Asking for help is asking for trouble.” “Mommy says Fluttershy says he says he’s a nice guy, now,” Patty piped up. She sat back, satisfied with her contribution to the conversation. “Well, he is nice.” Pumpkin stared at her hooves. “He fixed my squeaky chicken when she lost her squeaker.” The table was silent for a good, long moment. “You talked with Discord?” Pound asked. “Did you tell anypony?” “No.” Pumpkin shuffled in her seat. “He said something about keeping his charitable deeds secret. Whatever that means.” “It means he’s sneaking around, like usual.” Scootaloo shrugged. “I dunno, Pumpkin. It seems like a pretty iffy thing.” Pumpkin shoveled a large bite into her mouth. “He never shuts up about the time he took off Rainbow Dash’s wings. If he can take them off and put them back on again, can’t he do the same to help you?” Scootaloo swallowed hard. “What you’re talking about is both crazy and scary.” Pumpkin shrugged. “Aren’t you running out of other choices?” “I think I gotta run out of all my other choices before I choose that one.” Scootaloo spread her wings. “I mean, it’s Discord!” “And what’s that supposed to mean?” Pumpkin tilted her head back and waited. “You can’t think of any other reason besides ‘It’s Discord,’ can you?” “Sounds good enough to me,” Pound said. Pumpkin turned her chair and glowered at the wall. Scootaloo watched her pout, tapping the table idly. She leaned her head back and gave the ceiling an accusing glare. “Alright, you know what? You’re probably really actually right. A little.” Pumpkin looked at Scootaloo out of the corner of her eye. “I appreciate the thought, Pumpkin,” Scootaloo said. “I think… I’ll talk to him about it. I’m gonna be seeing him tomorrow anyway, so it wouldn’t hurt to get his perspective, would it?” A smile tugged at Pumpkin’s mouth. “You mean it?” “Sure! What could it hurt?” Scootaloo folded her wings against her back. “It’s not like he can do anything to me without permission. He’d have to answer to the princesses for that.” Patty Cake’s wings fluttered. “They’d beat him but good!” “Yeah, totally.” Scootaloo stacked her plate on top of Patty’s. “Who knows? This could be a good thing.” Pumpkin wiggled down into her sleeping bag as Pound performed wing-ups. Scootaloo circled around him, examining his posture. “Keep your back straight or you’ll hurt it. Make sure your wings don’t twist. You’re doing great! Keep it up!” Pound reached the peak of his wing-up. “Twenty!” He slumped to the ground. “That’s… about it.” “Great improvement!” Scootaloo set him on his hooves. “You’re on your way to being one of the best fliers I know. Go on, get your teeth brushed.” He trotted away, a big grin on his face. Scootaloo looked over at Patty, who was wrapped head-to-tail in blankets and sleeping soundly. A little further away, she had set up Rice’s cradle, where he was babbling in foalspeak to the ceiling or anypony who would listen. Occasionally, whenever he heard a rumble of thunder, he would shout “Boom!” and giggle. Pumpkin hugged her squeaky chicken tight. “Scootaloo?” Scootaloo sat next to the filly. “Yeah? ’Sup?” “Why do you want to fly so bad?” Pumpkin asked. Scootaloo pursed her lips. “Huh. Huh, you know, that really should be the easiest question in the world to answer.” Pumpkin squeaked her chicken. “It’s not?” “Well, it kinda is.” Scootaloo brushed her mane back. “Long story short: It’s super-awesome. Short story long: It’s…” Her eyes unfocused. “Every time I saw a pegasus wing by overhead, I got this feeling. This need. My heart… my magic wanted to be up there. I need to go fast. I need to fly high. I need that rush.” “So you’re an adrenaline junky.” Scootaloo snorted. “How do you even know what that means?” Pumpkin shrugged. “Anyway,” Scootaloo said, “it really is the coolest thing ever. When I first saw Rainbow Dash fly into town, it was like, ‘I wanna do that.’ I want to do those tricks, to fly that fast, to be that awesome. Now, though, I don’t wanna be exactly like Rainbow Dash.” She winked. “She can’t ride a scooter to save her life, after all.” Pumpkin giggled. “You’re the best at that.” “Don’t forget it. But I guess the long answer is the same.” Scootaloo spread her wings. “How awesome is flying? Way awesome.” Pumpkin yawned as she settled into her bag. “I really hope you get to fly. It’s no fair if you don’t.” “Me, too.” Scootaloo patted Pumpkin’s head. “And you know what? I’m gonna keep believing until I finally get up there.” Pound walked down the staircase into the basement. “So that’s the big inspirational speech, huh? ‘I love flying because flying is cool.’” He gave her a sheepish grin. Scootaloo chucked his shoulder. “Good night, Smarmy.” She rubbed her eyes as she trotted past him. “Sweet dreams. I’ll keep an eye out for your parents.” Pound’s smile faltered as he nodded. “Good night, Scootaloo.”