Scootaloo stayed up on the roof through most of the night. She let herself forget about Applebloom's intrusion, and she instead gazed up into the night sky and lost herself among the stars. It was nearly dawn when she climbed back down into her bedroom. She tucked herself into bed and fell asleep right away.
It was several hours later when Honeydew woke up on the couch, where she had fallen asleep right about the time Scootaloo had been climbing up onto the roof. After rolling over a few times, Honeydew decided it was time to get up. She yawned and stretched her back as she got up, and she then went into the kitchen to make a sandwich. She made two—one for herself, and one for Scootaloo.
"Scootaloo, food!" called Honeydew from the bottom of the stairs. When there was no answer, Honeydew shrugged and left Scootaloo's sandwich on a plate on the stairs. She returned to the couch where she ate her sandwich and then lay down to take a nap.
Honeydew's nap was interrupted when she opened her eyes to find Scootaloo rummaging through her stash of poison joke cigarettes. "What the hell are you doing?" she yelled at Scootaloo as she pulled the young filly away and shoved her into the corner of the couch.
"I was only looking," said Scootaloo.
"Don't you lie to me! You were stealing from me, weren't you?" Honeydew glared down at Scootaloo. "Weren't you?" she repeated, louder.
Scootaloo pursed her lips and then stood up defiantly. Her small wings flared up at her sides. "Yeah, I was. So what? It's not like you even would have noticed. What do you even care what I do anyway?"
"Don't you take that tone with me. I'm in charge here, and as long as you're under my roof, you'll follow my rules. This"—Honeydew pointed to the poison joke on the coffee table—"is not for you."
"What's the big deal anyway? You do it all the time."
"That's different. And I don't have to explain myself to you. You're grounded. Go to your room."
Scootaloo locked eyes with Honeydew. She didn't move.
"Go to your room now," Honeydew repeated. "Or . . . or I'll spank you."
Scootaloo laughed. "Spank me? What do you think I am? A baby foal?"
Her patience exhausted, Honeydew grabbed Scootaloo by her foreleg and bodily pulled her over to the stairs. "Upstairs. Now. Or if you want to keep acting like a baby, so help me, I'll treat you like one." The look in Honeydew's eyes was clear: Scootaloo could shut up and go upstairs or things would escalate.
Scootaloo shut up and went upstairs to her room. Her final act of defiance was to slam her door as loudly as she could just as she heard Honeydew yell up the stairs to not slam the door.
The house was silent after that. It was in that silence that Scootaloo made up her mind to run away. Honeydew was right: as long as she lived here. . .
Scootaloo climbed out her window and down the lattice. Once on the ground, she got on her scooter and sped away from Honeydew's house.