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// Rescue 
// Story: Scootaloo's Flight 
// by alai20 
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	I got captured, in case you haven’t guessed. Yep, I got so far, and so close, for a Siren to spot my orange coat and put me to sleep. I still haven’t seen Sweetie Belle, but I was right about her being alone. I overheard a conversation between some Sirens. They said, “Nice to have some fresh pony. That white unicorn’s anger is beginning to taste exactly like the others.” That’s all I could hear. It looks like I’m in a flimsy- looking cave, hidden somewhere among the rocks. The thing about me being a filly is everyone underestimated how strong I was. I mean, the bars were logs. Logs! Attention Sirens! I have this thing called a Swiss Army Knife. I cut slowly into the wood, deeper and deeper until I had cut through one. I could just squeeze through… except I heard distant voices. I quickly slipped through, grabbed my bag, and sprinted thought the endless hallways.
Jail cell after jail cell passed me. I was beginning to think I had gone the wrong way when I heard a small voice. “Help… Is anyone there? Please help me…” It could be Sweetie Belle. The voice sounded hoarse, which meant they’d been screaming earlier… I didn’t want to think about why. I neared the voice, closer and closer, until I finally reached it. I saw a small, white, pegasi. So they did have more than one victim. How could I get this filly and Sweetie Belle out? I reached in and poked the pony, gently. They turned, screaming, “Don’t make me do it again!” until they realized I was another pony. It looked like a small colt.”I’m not going to hurt you. Just relax and let me help you.”
“Ok.” Was the only response I got. I got my knife and started working on the bar. Pretty soon the colt and I were free. I tried to make him more comfortable.” So, what’s your name.”
“Ummm, my name is Stitch. What’s your name?”
“Scootaloo.” I replied. I still needed to find Sweetie Belle. “Have you seen a white unicorn, about my height? She’s my friend and I came to save her.”
“Actually, yes I have.” He said. “She was feeding one half, and I would feed the other. The halves would trade off between the two of us.”
That sounded terrible. This poor colt, having to feed all these sirens. I found another cell, this time with a hoof in the light. I ran to the cell, and there lay Sweetie Belle. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I cut through the wood silently and said “Sweetie B-“ I was cut off by her flailing hooves. One caught me in the chin, hard. I backed up, yelling “It’s me, Scootaloo! Stop!” Slowly she stopped trying to hit me.
“Y-you came back for me?” came a small whimper from the now open cage.
“Yes, I did. We have to go before the Sirens realize Stitch and you are gone. Come on.” Sweetie Belle, I’ve learned, has a lot of resilience. She can fight through almost anything. She slowly got up, and led the way down the dark, musty hallway.
We had been walking for a while now, almost 10 minutes. Still Sweetie Belle kept on turning corners, walking down corridors. Even I was getting tired. I was wrong about her being injured physically. The magic they use, apparently, just hurts you mentally. I saw something, something bright. Light from the outside. I was so happy; I sprinted to the end of the cave. As I ran out of the cave, out into the bright daylight, someone yanked me back into the darkness.
“Wha-“I didn’t know who had grabbed me.
“Shhh!” someone whispered into my ear. “You almost got caught, Scootaloo!”
I had gotten reckless. A Siren had almost caught me. Luckily, Stitch had pulled me back. The Siren had passed, not noticing us. We all waited patiently until it was clear to run.
We didn’t get too far. Turns out, the breeding grounds were in a crevice, and we were in one of its many mountains. All I saw was a steep slope.
I looked down and tried to assess how far away the ground was from where we were. It was too far to jump, and all the ideas I had weren’t going to work. Sweetie Belle was too weak to transport us down there, and I don’t even think she know what spell to use. Stitch could fly, but he’s too weak to carry someone. I was no help, because I can flap my wings hard enough to propel a scooter. I turned to Stitch and said, “ I have an idea.”