Scootaloo zoomed about her Scooter like a blur, summersaulting over several railings and series of concrete stairs, skimming along the pavement to come to a screeching halt. Staring up the stairs she marvelled at how fast she had ben able to scoot down the railings without a single mistake. Good thing she was wearing her helmet, cause on mistake there could mean a serious injury for her down the line.
She had really needed to feel the wind and the speed, it helped to clear the clouds that had appeared in her head. Her meeting with Daring Do having left her with a lasting impression that she knew that mare. She couldn’t put her hoof down on exactly where those feelings were coming from. The only clue she had came from the visions that had been plaguing her for days. However, those visions were blurry and hard to remember, being so real and vivid in the moment, but fading from her memory when she tried to remember specific details.
Although the whole time she was talking with Daring, she couldn’t help but feel like the other mare wanted to tell her something different than what she was actually saying. As if she was speaking an entire different language with the real meaning of her words lost in translation.
Scootaloo returned to her house in a dank sweat, hours of zooming around on her scooter, doing flips, and pushing herself to the limit had taken their tole on her. She was exhausted and her stamina was spent, and her day wasn’t even over yet, for she still had her birthday celebration that night.
Everyday she made sure she had enough time to exercise with her scooter. Normally as a pegasus that would mean lots of flying, but of course her short wings torpedoed that endeavor. Like her idol and pseudo big sister Rainbow Dash, Scootaloo was dedicated to keeping an athletic lifestyle, and the scooter her parents had built for her, helped her do just that.
Sometimes she would go on rides just toiler her head, for when she was soaring over the pavement like a pegasus soars through the clouds, she felt as free as she possibly could. That was her escape from the problems of the real world, the problems of filly-hood, and the complications of friendship.
As she trotted into the house her father, Toymaker turned the corner just at the right moment to catch her gaze. He was a tall but slender stallion, red furred with a light blue mane, a pair of large bottle-shaped glasses resting on his nose. A brown work apron dotted with burn marks, paint blotches, and sown-on patches covered the front of his chest.
“Cutting it a bit close aren’t you dear?” came his stern voice, though Scootaloo knew personally that, that was his tone for everything. He… father, was not a talkative type, and when he did speak, he usually carried a tone that spoke of no nonsense and all business.
“Uh yeah dad, I just needed to clear my head a bit,” replied the young filly. pushing past the stallion as he gave her a comforting pat on the head.
“Very well, you get ready, and we’ll go together to the party. Dear are you almost done?” called out Toymaker as the orange filly passed by him.
“Almost dear, almost!” chortled a trilling voice from the kitchen, followed by the appearance of a yellow pegasus mare, with a grey braided mane. Silk Stock wasn’t as tall as her mate Toymaker, but she was far more stocky then him. As Scootlaoo passed her she gave the filly a big smile before gently pressing her wing tips along the fillies back. Scootaloo repaid the smile with her own, leaning into the winged caress before moving on to her room.
Usually her, “parents” were never this affectionate. It must be because of the party, she thought. Of course Scootaloo wasn’t stupid, she knew the ponies she called her parents weren’t her real parents. She had known for three years at least, going back to one night she had overheard them through the floorboards, talking about trying for a filly of their own as well.
Scoots had always expected she was adopted. For one thing, while the collaring and species of her parents were right, she had never felt any ingrained attraction or commitment to them. They also were never overly affectionate or parental. Many ponies in town felt that they were cruel and abusive, but it was anything but. She had very little to be upset about. She was cared for, always fed, always had had a roof over her head, and they were pretty alright as parents go. They never struck her, never yelled at her, Toymaker’s usual tone was more than enough to make her shape up when she was out of line, and Silk Stock was gentle and submissive, she never took joy in malice or cruelty.
The problem was that mainly they never treated her like a real daughter. She didn’t doubt they had some affection for her, but they never showed the maternal or paternal instincts she had seen in so many others across town. Both ponies were shut-ins only leaving the house every few weeks for supplies or to man the shop in town, so they rarely took her anywhere.
They also were incurably busy, which is why they hardly ever were seen around town. Not many ponies knew this, but all the toys and equipment Toymaker made was built by himself and Silk Stock. The two of them would spend entire days building, painting, and or modelling toys and accessories. It had taken them three weeks just to make the scooter they had given her for her tenth birthday.
This meant they had very little time to spend with her, but that was okay, she had the cutie-mark crusaders, Rainbow Dash, Twilight and the others to spend time with. She never felt really alone with them on her side, and so it wasn’t like she was starved for attention. Scootaloo appreciated the work Toymaker and Silk Stock did. She also respected their work ethic, even if it sometimes meant she was forgotten for hours.
The night she had been attacked, they had been building something quite large, something intended for Princess Luna’s anniversary of returning to Equestria. Scootaloo hadn’t wanted them to worry about her, nor to lose any time, especially not when she had Twilight and Rainbow Dash there to help her. So while Twilight and Rainbow freaked over her wounds, she had quietly told the nurse to send a message to her parents telling them she was okay and in good hooves, asking them to also remain home and continue working on their project. Scoots had just enough time to make the nurse swear she would tell no one else before she passed out from pain and exhaustion.
They weren't terrible ponies, they were just indifferent. They cared for her she knew, but more as one would care for any pony put in their charge. That was enough for Scootaloo, however, it did raise some questions that she had agonized over for some time. The pain of not knowing, only able to wonder at what the answers to these questions could be, had been the cause of her recent moping and crumbled spirits.
“Who were her real parents? Why did they leave her? and why did they never come back? All these questions had plagued her for weeks, as her birthday came closer. Was something wrong with her? Or did they take one look at her underdeveloped wings and were too disappointed to keep her? She had no real answers, and she didn’t see anyway to find them. It was difficult for her to watch her friends with their sisters or parents, not because she was inherently jealous, but because they at least knew they were loved. She could not say whether her real parents had loved her or not, she didn’t even know their names, or where they were. All of this had been crashing down on her for weeks now. As her birthday drew closer and closer, she had begun to feel worse each day. Why celebrate your birth when your own parents didn’t want you? If not for her friends and pseudo-family she wouldn’t be celebrating it at all.
But tonight there would be a quick reprieve from the pain and turmoil. She wouldn’t be on her own to drown in her despairing thoughts. Tonight she had an escape from all of it, and could bask in the adulation of her friends and those closest to her. Her foster-parents were even going to attend, having made time for her special day. Things for now, were looking up for her, and she could feel tonight something special would happen. She only wished she knew what that would be.