//------------------------------//
// Dark clouds in your mind. 
// Story: A Game of Homes. 
// by Lethrael 
//------------------------------//

Dark clouds in your mind.

The next week passed out not very well for Wingdaloo. She dreamed herself searching for Scootaloo again and again and if she was woke up, she was looking pitiful from everypony. Mum had talked to Autumn Breeze, but the solution was the same like before. She was downgraded and taught with the younger foals. No other solution stayed for her. Wingdaloo played the content pegasus filly at home just only for her mum, but more and more often she has found herself alone in the classroom and was waiting, if it was almost dark, before she went home. There she excused herself with new friends and that she has forgotten the time. But new friends didn't grow on clouds.

Curryfeather an the other hoof noticed of course Wingdaloos tension and attempted to see, what was wrong with her. First she has spoken with her, but she did answered only with.
“It's okay, Mum. All is fine.”
This answer in much different executions she has heard since from her filly. Finally she talked with Autumn Breeze. The meeting in the school followed her expectations.
“Wingdaloo. Yes, this is very difficult. She didn't find any new friends in the class right now and appeared distracted.”
The deep red pegasus stallion looked shortly to the last row with a lonely cloud and sighed. His wings took a booklet and leafed through it.
“She is hardly working in the class. But every time, I'm talking to her, she just smiled and alleged that nothing is wrong with her.”
He let sink the booklet and looked to the lonely cloud, again.
“If she didn't talk to me, Curryfether, I may not help her.”
The last statement took the pegasus mare out of her thoughts and she let sink her head.
“I didn't know, how I should handle this, Autumn Breeze. She didn't talk to me either.”
Both pegasi starred at each other and shook themself finally. They considered together, what they could do, but nothing useful came in their minds.

“Wingdaloo stood up, you have to go to school.”
The filly was awoken long ago and has trying to gulp back her sob with the pillow cloud. Again she has dreamed from her search for Scootaloo. Mum shouldn't hear her.
“I...I'm ready.”
Her answer sounded studied and calmer as she felt. She dug herself out of the now grey pillow cloud  and carried it dripping into the bathroom. Her tears has paired themselves with the water in it and overfilled it to be capable to be white. She hit out the tears careful over the drain hole and as the pillow was finally white again, she carried it back. Than she returned to the bathroom and beheld herself long in the mirror. Reddened eyes stared pitiful vice the mirror to her.
“I am starting to look like every other at me.”
Her voice sounded thin and disappointed. The mane was in a horrible mess and remembered her on a hay bale.
“Wingdaloo, I have to go. Breakfast stays on the table for you and...”
The voice of her mother paused and became quieter.
“...you receive a few letters.”
Wingdaloo waited without any answers in the bathroom, until her mum has leaved and tiptoed than into the living room. There stood a few slices of bread, a glass of milk and a few jams at the table. She ignored all of this and starred through the letters beside the plate. She sighed disappointed, she has hoped, it were a parcel with her scooter, but aunt Sunny hasn't sent it yet.
“But, I want it neither now...”
She gulped back a sob and pressed the eyes together again. She fought the tears and throw the letter, or precisely the three letters into her saddleback. She sat  down on a cloud, looked at the breakfast and fought the urge to smash it all into the ground. Her trembling hooves took a slice of bred instead and put it on the plate. She wasn't hungry and so the bred stayed untouched at the plate and Wingdaloo put the knife into the apple jam, to make her mother believe, that she has eaten something. She spouted even the milk half out in the bathroom and put the glass on the table. Mum would believe, that she was late and...She heard a stroke of a clock and startled. She was late. Again glances starred at her, as she moved through the streets of Cloudsdale. She just couldn't accustom this stares, even total stranger pegasi looked at her pitiful and traced her. The glances urged her to run faster and faster. She arrived at school worn out and was suppressing more tears.
“Wingdaloo you're late. Sit down. As I mentioned today we will...”
The glances from her schoolmates followed her to the cloud in the last row and she sat down. One look to the blackboard showed the theme for today.
“Winter Wrap up.”
She dropped her head and put it onto the table. She has heard this the last year and she could well remembered through this day.

She has to collect the icicles together with Sky Dancer, Ice Prism and Snow Shine and the three flying pegaesi decided, that she would be better a cart horse for them. 
But even that didn't work, because she couldn't fly back to the weatherfactory to swapped the full cart for an empty one. So the three other decided to let her do nothing at all.

She shook away the memory and turned the head at the table. Why was she here anyway? She startled and stood up.
“Yes, Wingdaloo?”
Autumn Breeze discontinued the deliberations about the Winter Wrap up day, but as the filly didn't answer, he neared her. His eyes searched her own and recognised an unknown shine in them.
“I don't have to be here. I've learned this last year!”
She exclaimed through her teacher and jumped, before he could even answer, towards the wall. Autumn Breeze was prepare for this and followed her with a jump.
“Wingdaloo, wait!”
His shout impeded not the filly, but than he flew into her way and blocked her.
“I said...”
Wingdaloo galloped around him, ignored his word and flounced forward. Autumn Breeze sighed, flew again towards her and held her with one wing. She tried to break free, but his wings were to strong.
“I believe, you misunderstand something. You have to be in school...”
The filly felt tears rise in her eyes and closed them.
“Why? I'm not able to fly, anyway! And I'm just a failure, anyway!
Why are you bother to teach me? I want just go to...”
Her suppressed anger burst out and she yelled at her teacher all  this things, that she has buried deep in herself. Her voice sounded  so harsh and worn out at the same time, that Autumn Breeze released her appalled. 	Freed from the restrained grip, she thrown towards the empty streets and let her teacher beyond, who gazed after her thoughtful. Her hooves led her first an usual way, almost her feelings guided her to mum. But what would change this? She slowed down and braked out in a new direction. At home. There she could be alone for a few hours and, no.
“I didn't want to make Mum miserable. I had to...”
Her stammering was interrupted from a strange snarling, as she turned into the street, who led her home.
“I don't want to be here. I want to be down there. I am Scootaloo.”
She yelled into the empty alleyway and turned around.

Curryfeather has just finished her work now. Today many pegasi become her guests and she could help them with their problems. She set out for home very elated.
Her good feeling didn't hold very long, as she saw the havoc  in the entrance and worse in the living room. Grey clouds, condensed moisture on every thing and the jam jars, the milk glass and the plate laid broken on the ground. Hardly able to see through the flying shreds of clouds, who laid like never dissolving mist over all.
“Wingdaloo?”
She looked through her open door and boggled as she saw the tattered cloud of the bed drifted in a soft wind and rained into the room. The poster were rip off from the walls and laid nasty slick and wet on the flour. Negligent thrown in a puddle lay the saddlebacks of her filly.
“Wingdaloo where are you?”
Curryfeathers voice sounded like in her dreams and she shook it up. A quiet sobering led her into her own bedroom. There it was raining, too and the clouds in the bed were almost dark. But a little bright orange body snuggled into the bed and trembled under the dark clouds. Even thunder boomed in the rest of the clouds under her and brush discharge enlightened the picture on her night desk in an eerie green blaze. Curryfeather moved hesitant further, sat down beside her filly and staid silent a little while.	Indeed she felt certain, that Wingdaloo wouldn't hurt her, but accidents weren't unusually in this kind of mood. She tried to stroke her gently with her wings, but her carapace of dark clouds held her away. She tried to flutter a few clouds away, but they stayed firm around Wingdaloo, as they stood under her control. Past a few silent moments a voice sounded under the clouds.
“I don't mean to break anything, Mum. I don't mean to let it rain inside. I don't mean to...”
Curryfeather sighed softly and tried to move through the clouds, but even that didn't work. She would be there for her, if she only could reach her. The clouds were her carapace and whilst she didn't say anything, that calmed her filly down, they wouldn't become penetrable.
“I understand, Wingda...”
Her filly glanced at her, her eyes swam in tears. A lightning fulminated through the room, seared on his way a part of the wardrobe, traversed through the cloudwall and discharged in the kitchen. Curryfeather recoiled and closed her mouth. She bit her lips and remembered herself to the filly.
“I'm not Wingdaloo any more, Mum. I am Scootaloo.”
Her voice sounded angry and sadly all at once and she let sink the head into the clouds. Curryfeather closed her eyes and denied her own insecurities. In her the feelings raved and she tried to resolve the knot in her. Her daughter slipped away from her, and she couldn't do anything. She wouldn't bear her name any more. She pressed her eyes firmer and stifled more accusations and memories. She couldn't. She wouldn't. She hadn't. Her filly wouldn't leave her, like him. Wingdaloo has settled herself. But she was wretched about her choice. Her Mum bethought, what she could say, but nothing passed her lips.
“I didn't want to make you miserable, Mum...”
Now only whisper sounded out of the bed and the rain fell denser.	Cold thin drops moved out of the ceiling and quenched the green fire at the picture. The forever smiling Wind Dance seemed taunting both, but Curryfeather ignored his banned smile and upset the picture. The lightnings dissipated and only sadness were dominate in her daughter. The cold rain was the  proof for her long fought feelings.
“I just want, to make you happy.
For this I am here.”
Her voice was distracted from a deep sub and her filly pressed deeper into the clouds, as she would try to hide from herself. Curryfeather tried to push herself through the cloud-knot, but the will of Wing, no Scootaloo, held them together.
“But, how could I be it, when I myself am sad?”
Her voice sounded frail and tear stained out of the deep of the clouds and was interrupted from an other sob. More and more sobs shoved through the clouds and the rain let all sink in grey wisps. Curryfeather pushed herself again into the clouds. Finally she passed through and cuddled besides her filly. She shielded her from the rain with her wings and prodded her face with her own. A creeps wandered through her mane and she trembled. The filly was so soggy and cold.
“Scootaloo.”
No answer. Not even a movement followed her whisper.
“Scootaloo.”
The filly held on, as her mother whispered the name again, and looked with great tear dimmed eyes to her .

“Oh dear, my little Scootaloo. You are not responsible for my happiness.”