• Published 28th Feb 2016
  • 3,246 Views, 385 Comments

Someone Still Loves You - brokenimage321



After realizing her dream of earning her cutie mark—in the company of her best friends, no less—Scootaloo’s life should have been on an upward course. Instead, she sees herself on yet another crusade.

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2. Day

Rainbow Dash didn’t like mashed potatoes. Nor did she especially like being paid for and pampered.

Yet here she was: at the finest restaurant in Cloudsdale, soon to enjoy a beautiful hay-loin, with a side of mashed potatoes, asparagus with sea salt and cracked pepper. Seated across from her, was her date, the one-and-only Soarin’.

He was a sight, especially in the tempered glow of candlelight. Both looked a tad scruffy, having just come from an exciting night in the company of close friends.

Part of them didn’t like being so secretive about their relationship, though they certainly had their reasons. Dash wasn’t about to have the people of Ponyville judge her for schtupping the first piece of fine horseflesh that came along, nor was Soarin’ entirely comfortable with the possibility of reprimand for conduct unbecoming with a member of the reserves. Nevertheless, the two enjoyed one another very much. Sex and shenanigans aside, the two shared common interests, got along surprisingly well.

After some avoiding eye contact and idle fidgeting and pony-watching, Soarin cleared his throat.“So, uh... you have any plans this weekend?”

“Not that I can think of, no.” Rainbow answered quickly.

“Well, the girls and I are having a barbecue at Spitfire’s place. You wanna come? They’d love to have you.”

Rainbow smiled. They’d love to have me…

“Yeah. I can probably make that,” she said, feigning nonchalance. They’d love to have me… Suddenly, she frowned. “Would, uh…” she swallowed. “...would we be going as a couple, or would we be going as friends?”

Soarin’ took a nervous sip of his water. ”I guess…” he said slowly, “...if you’re comfortable with that, that is. I’m just worried that the higher-ups wouldn’t like it.” He sighed. ”You know what they did to that captain of the Cloudsdale Thunder Squadron...”

Rainbow nodded nervously. Said captain had done the deed with a junior cadet--and got her pregnant to boot. Cloudsdale officials were appalled. Watching him break down crying during his drumming-out had been one of the most awkward experiences of her life.

“But, uh... he was kind of a jerk-off anyway, right?” Rainbow asked nervously.. “It’s not like we didn’t know each other before I was a cadet--I mean…”

They went quiet, each taking a bite or two of their food.

A look up from his plate at his date seemed to compel Soarin’ to try a more topical branch of conversation.

“So, I read about those three fillies in Ponyville.” He began, “They got their cutie marks at the same time, huh?”

“Yeah, it was kinda wild.” Rainbow Dash said with a nod, “I guess they still don’t understand how that could even happen. Not even Twilight has a clue.”

The thought of Scootaloo made her frown slightly, though she quickly recovered. Whatever it was, couldn’t be too important.

“Speaking of Ponyville,” Soarin’ added, smiling “For all the times we’ve crashed at my place, you’ve never returned the favor.” He paused as he watched Rainbow’s face burn red.

“W-what are you gettin’ at?” Rainbow stammered.

“Well, y’know,” Soarin’s grin expanded, “One of these weekend’s, I’m gonna have to come check out Little Cloudsdale. I also have never really stayed over in Ponyville, anyway. Is it as nice as people say it is?”

Rainbow’s response was impaired by her tongue tying itself in a knot at the prospect of having Soarin’ at her place, some quality time alone where they could… “get to know each other”.

“Y--yeah, it’s nice.” Dash started, “Kinda has its own charm, you know? It’s also a great napping spot--not much noise, not much going on.” She sighed. Speaking of going, the moon had risen above the cloud horizon--which meant it was getting late. Getting time for her to return to head home herself. She’d be back, of course; Soarin’ had paid this time, and threw in a generous tip, if only for the benefit of the waitstaff swooning over his “generosity”. Rainbow was amused by it, at least--but she’s have a chance to pay his way soon enough.

Cloudsdale was quite the spectacle at night. What with its seemingly endless array of colorful lights and neon signs; the leisurely pace of the pegasi that trot and flew through the downtown thoroughfares, it was vibrant, yet calm; busy, yet relaxed.

As Rainbow Dash and Soarin’ made their way out of the five-star restaurant, they joined nonchalant procession of the evening pedestrians. Side by side, the two couldn’t help smiling.The night had gone well by all accounts: they caught a movie with friends on the west side of town, then snuck into a discrete inn within the central business district for some well-deserved private time.

They’d known each other from flight camp, not to mention by reputation----with Rainbow as a bearer of the Element of Loyalty, and Soarin’ captain of the renowned and revered Wonderbolts--but with every conversation, every outing like this, it seemed to two were getting to know one another on a completely different level.

Some minutes of slow trot and small talk later, they reached a desolate jut of cloud that hung out over the darkened valley below. Well below here, was the expanse of the Unicorn Range. Southeast of this, was Canterlot, and Ponyville--exactly where Rainbow Dash was headed. As much as she wished that wasn’t the case.

Rainbow sighed. “Soarin’, I--I just wanted... t-to thank you,” she said softly. She turned away and grimaced. What the hell is wrong with you, Dash, get it together! “Tonight was amazing. I mean,” she added hurriedly, “not that the last time wasn’t amazing-or…”

“So, we’ll be doing this again soon?” Soarin’ smiled. She was cute when she got flustered.

“Y-yeah. For sure.” Rainbow nodded vigorously.

Minutes passed as the two looked everywhere but at each other. Finally, Soarin’ leaned over and gave Rainbow a quick peck on the cheek, making her squeal in surprise. She grinned, then returned the favor, making him blush an adorable shade of red.

“S-see ya,” he stammered. He couldn’t tear his eyes off her, even as she sighed and stepped away.

“Yeah. See ya.” Rainbow replied timidly. Meeting his eyes one last time, she took off from the edge, and began her descent towards Ponyville, her heartbeat loud in her ears as she tore through the clouds.


Scootaloo rounded onto her street in the west end of Ponyville, the steady stream of tears having dried up, and the weight of her sorrow beginning to burden her.

Hope had turned to realization, then to hatred in fairly short order. Her mind so muddled with confusion and contempt for Rainbow Dash, that she startled herself with how hard she had banged on the front door. She recoiled; that had almost been enough to wake the dead, let alone the other foals.

Despite that, the kind old face of her foster mother, Mrs. Safe Harbour, with her cream-colored coat and rose mane, looked no less welcoming and warm that it ever had. Behind her, three timid foals gazed at Scootaloo with wide eyes. Scootaloo couldn’t help but be slightly surprised, their parents must’ve been at the Apple’s orchard.

Between her mother’s embrace, and the foals adoration, being sour was not an option. As terrible as her day had been, she was still happy to be home after the crazy day. Not to mention the warmth that came with being missed, admired, and attended.

Mrs. Harbour had a heart of gold, and was nothing like the wicked and shallow step-parents in fairy tales. Harbour was the kind of mare you didn’t want to disappoint--not because she responded with anger and aggression, in fact, it was the exact opposite. She treated each of her fillies and colts as equals. She didn’t talk down to them, nor did she make fun of their ambitions. Scootaloo had the utmost love and respect for her, and while she always held the hope that someday she would have a home of her own, she would always have a soft spot for Mrs. Harbour.

Scootaloo walked up to her own room--a private one, just like the other two long-term residents. She promptly tossed the tattered dragon toy into her bin, and then flopped, face-down, onto her bed, and snuggled deep into her pillow. She could feel blood pulsing through her veins, and her heart thumping softly against the bed. The now-distant sound of the commotion was almost a comforting ambiance. Coupled with the smell of homemade pasta, Scootaloo couldn’t help but sink into her blankets.

He heard her door open behind her. “I figured you would’ve had something to eat at the party.” Mrs. Harbour said softly. “If you’re hungry, though, there’s some pasta on the stove... fettuccine alfredo.”

Scootaloo’s grinned into the sheets. “Thanks Mrs. Harbour, but I had some cake and stuff. I’ll probably eat it later, though.”

“Well then, I’ll just keep it under wraps for you then. Have at it whenever you want, dear.”

It sounded like she said what she had to say, but she did not leave. Instead, she stood in the door for a moment, then, slowly, stepped forward, and pulled Scootaloo into an embrace.

“Everything shipshape, dear Scootsie?“ she said, hugging her a little tighter. “Seems like something’s bothering you.”

Scootaloo hesitated. She had vented her anger earlier, and now all she really had left was a dark, empty pit where her heart had been. All she really wanted was to be alone.

“I’m okay.” Scootaloo lied. “I’m just really tired, and want to lie down for a little bit.”

For a moment, Harbour did not move. Finally, she leaned in and kissed Scootaloo on the forehead, then pulled her arms from around her and stood. “Alright, then,” she said. “Goodnight, dear--and please, let me know how I can help.” She walked to the door and opened it, walked through, and slowly, gently, closed it behind her.

Scootaloo sighed deeply into her pillow. It was nice to be alone. So nice to be alone.

Part of her knew this wasn’t right. Today, of all days, she could be in the company of her friends, not to mention what passed for family. But another part of her knew that she might still run into her. Once upon a time, that was the only thing she’d ever wanted--to spend some quality time with Rainbow Dash. But, if she couldn’t be bothered even to show up on this, the most important day of her life--to give her the only thing she’d ever asked for--well, screw her. Her, and the horse she rode in on.

She chuckled darkly. Her past self would be horrified to see her now, thinking of Rainbow Dash as anything other than a saint. But, she was starting to realize, saints only lived in storybooks--flesh-and-blood ponies were much better at disappointing you.

Yet another part of her wished that her naiveté was still intact--that she could still believe that Dash had gotten hung up in traffic, or gotten sick, or broken a wing, or something. Something about tonight had done more than just strike a nerve: it pinched it, twisted it, threatened to break it. Tonight had been different. It wasn’t that she had been stood up, yet again; it wasn’t that she had been passed over by too-kind adults, yet again; it was the contrast. She knew she shouldn’t be jealous, but to be there, among her friends, with all the gifts and praise in the world heaped upon their heads, in the midst of friends and family--

--and she, little old Scootaloo, with very nearly literally nothing. No friends. No family. No high-fives, not even a “congratulations.” And, though living in a modest home with a modest mare had taught her to not expect much, her only gift had been that goddamn stuffed dragon, still dusty, with an ear missing, and spit-up stains all down its front. A gift that somepony had pulled out of their ass at the literal last second. Not because they cared for her, oh no. Because they felt sorry for her.

And that was what she hated most of all.

Well, almost. There was one thing that could have saved the evening--one face that she had still wanted to see. Even a wink, a nudge, and a “Good job, Sport,” might have salvaged the wreckage of her evening. But, once again, she had been denied all that.

It happened often enough, over the course of her short, painful life, that she had almost lost her right to be surprised anymore.

She rolled over and glanced up at her wall--up at one of the innumerable crayon drawings of Rainbow Dash pinned to the wall. SCooTaLOo, AGe 4, the clumsy caption read. Anger flared up inside her, and she almost leapt from the bed to tear it down--but then apathy washed over her, even harder, and she fell back, motionless onto the bed.

Is this what growing up feels like? she wondered. Realizing that all your heroes are fakes and liars? That promises only matter on paper? That friendship is just a checklist?

She stared up at the ceiling for several moments, sinking deeper and deeper into her darkness, until a sudden realization arced through her like a bolt of lightning. She grimaced, then groaned aloud.

To top it all off, tomorrow was her birthday. The big one-oh. And it was a Saturday, too--she didn’t even have school to distract her. Which meant that, as much as she hated her right now--as much as she didn’t want to see her at all--she knew she was still going to spend most of the day hoping she’d show up.

She rolled over again. The thought made her want to cry all over again--but she had already spent her tears.

She lay awake for a long time, trying to ignore the muffled cries of happy children outside her door.


Scootaloo let out a commanding yawn as she stretched her hooves to the ceiling. Looking to her small bedside calendar, today was indeed her birthday; her decennial to be precise. While she wasn’t aware of any plans she herself had made for the occasion; hell, she had practically forgotten about it until now, she knew that her friends were sure to have something in store for her.

That, and the smell of a breakfast scramble and pancakes, brought a smile to her face, and a growl to her stomach, which seemed more eager than she did to pile out of bed, and begin her birthday.

Wandering downstairs, it was still early enough, that the foals had not been dropped off. It was just her, Poptart, and of course, Mrs. Harbour.


“Are you sure she’ll like this, dear?”

Rarity had asked this exact question at least ten times now. Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. Her answer was unchanged.

Sweetie Belle trotted ahead. “I guarantee she will, sis. Her old helmet's getting kind of beat up, anyway.”

Sweetie’s tired voice wasn’t born of displeasure or dislike--far from it. In fact, She was excited to celebrate with her best friend. All last night she, Rarity, Applejack and company had used Scootaloo’s absence to plan for the surprise party that was to take place at Twilight’s Castle.

Pinkie, of course, would provide the catering and decorations, with Applejack and Rarity getting some extra last-minute presents. After what transpired last night, they wanted to make sure Scootaloo had no excuse to feel unloved and unconsidered. Rarity took her sweet time as their hunt for the “perfect present” was continually delayed by Rarity insisting on window-shopping at every fashion boutique and fabric store, Sweetie’s protests be dammed.

Rarity opted to buy a helmet and a saddlebag. The helmet was black, with white stripes, and she had managed to get a monochrome decal of Scoot’s cutie mark printed on the face. The strap was custom-made by a connection of hers, who was able to make a flexible, comfortable chin strap. The saddle bag was a dark gray with red trim along the pocket covers, and bag flap. Once again, her brand-new cutie mark was printed on the front, with her name stitched in sleek, angular white font below it.

“Well,” Rarity huffed as they made their way to the train back to Ponyville, “If she so much as frowns when she sees them, this was your idea.”

“Don’t think we’ll be worrying about that.” Sweetie Belle smiled. “Especially when she sees what Applejack and Twilight got her.”

Sweetie Belle looked over the helmet and bag and grinned. While Scootaloo wasn't one for finesse or fashion, she did have style, and these accessories fit that style just fine.

Something else was on her mind, though.

"You think Rainbow Dash will show? Fluttershy did say that she got home last night."

"I certainly wouldn't count on it, Sweetie Belle," Rarity muttered. "To be honest, I can't imagine Scootaloo would want her there, anyway. Would you?"

Now that Sweetie thought about it, Scootaloo had taken her absence rather badly, and was probably still bitter... Maybe it would be for the best if the Element of Loyalty didn't show, after all.

"Either way, I wouldn't worry about it, dear." Rarity placed a reassuring hoof on her sister's shoulder. "Once we get these presents home, I want you to fetch Scootaloo, and go to your usual Twilight Time. AJ, Fluttershy, and I will ensure the gifts are wrapped and ready for the party."

"Are you sure you don't want my help?" Sweetie asked.

"I think there's a certain birthday filly who needs you more than I do at the moment." Rarity winked. With a playful nudge, they gathered up the presents and made their way to the boutique. Soon enough, Sweetie had gotten washed up, and had started off for Scootaloo's house.


All in all, Scootaloo’s birthday morning had gone smoothly. She got to enjoy a hearty breakfast to herself, courtesy of Mrs. Harbour, who, it seemed, could do no wrong when it came to food. Being among the oldest in the house, she was treated to praise and drawings courtesy of the foals. While Scootaloo couldn’t make heads or tails of most of them, she was sure to tell the artist how nice they looked.

Now, she was back under her covers again, catching up on her Daring Do. Ever since The Mare Who Will Not Be Named had introduced her to the series, Scootaloo herself found she couldn’t put the books down..

A light tap on her bedroom door got her attention.

“Come in!” Scootaloo called, folding down a corner of her page. She looked up as the door opened, and smiled.

“Happy Birthday, Scootaloo!” Sweetie Belle said with a smile, pulling her in for a hug.“How’s your morning been?”

“Pretty good.” Scootaloo answered, putting her book away. “Mrs. Habour made me a killer scramble, and I got a bunch of doodles from the other kids.”

“Neat!” Sweetie beamed. “Well, you can still make it to Twilight Time, right?”

“Of course I can!” Scootaloo replied. “Let me just brush my teeth, and we’ll blow this joint.”

Soon enough, they were out the door, headed for the Friendship Castle. Along the way, the townsfolk who knew Scootaloo waved and wished her a happy birthday, Scootaloo nodding or waving in return. Needless to say, the decade-old filly had a little more spring in her step as they trotted through town.

“How does it feel, Scootaloo?” Sweetie asked.

“Well, I mean, not really different. I mean, we have our cutie marks now. I guess you could say that was an early birthday present.”

“Oh yeah, huh?” Sweetie replied. The two were quiet for a stretch, save for the occasional bystander wishing Scootaloo well. Sweetie Belle slowly turned to Scootaloo and swallowed.

“You seem to be feeling better,” she said carefully.

“Yeah, I am.” Scootaloo answered. Her smile faded, just a bit. “I’m still really bummed about… y’know.”

“I can’t blame you, Scoots.” Sweetie Belle answered.

Scootaloo gritted her teeth--but nodded vigorously. “It doesn’t matter now, though.” She smiled, “I get to spend my birthday hanging out with my best friends. That’s more than enough for me.”

Just you wait, Sweetie Belle thought as a grin returned to her face.

As they approached the castle, Sweetie Belle used her magic to open the door for Scootaloo, who trotted in ahead of her. They caught Spike just leaving the main hall.

“Hey Scootaloo!” The dragon greeted cheerfully, “Happy Birthday!”

“Thanks, Spike.” Scootaloo smiled. She noticed he had an envelope in his hand. “What’s that?”

“What envelope?” Spike grinned mischievously as he quickly swiped the envelope behind his back. “You’ll find out a little later.” With a devious laugh, he went into the dining hall.

The two fillies approached the throne room doors. Sweetie Belle lit her horn again, but the doors much have been heavier, for they ground slowly open. As they swung wide, Scootaloo stared in wonder: slowly but surely, she saw the throne room, decorated with balloons, streamers, and a large banner string several feet above, which read in candy-colored letters: HAPPY BIRTHDAY SCOOTALOO.

Scootaloo’s nearly screamed as a blast of confetti blasted her, courtesy of a cannon mounted by a familiar pink pony.

Pinkie’s grin was brimming, “Happy, happy birthday, Scootaloo!”

“Ya made it!” Apple Bloom trotted up to them, with Applejack, Rarity, Twilight, and Pinkie Pie rounding into their view as well.

“Happy birthday!” cried Fluttershy, leaning in and giving her a quick hug.

“Happy birthday, Scootaloo,” Twilight greeted the filly who was awestruck by the display. “While there isn’t any Twilight Time today, I figured you’d prefer a party instead.”

Scootaloo could only grin at the spectacle.

“Sweetie dear, why don't you show her the dining hall?” Rarity winked as she walked beside them.

Sweetie Belle ooohed, and ran for the big double-doors at the end of the room, followed, in short order, by the others. Well, most of the others; Fluttershy turned to follow, but, instead, hesitated. She scanned the crowd, then froze, stock-still. She stood there for a moment before letting out a low growl, then turning and striding out the front door.

Meanwhile, Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle followed Rarity back down the hallway and into the dining room. Streamers and balloons hung above a long table. A large glass centerpiece sat in the middle--and, on the very top, sat a large ceramic rendition of Scootaloo’s cutie mark.

Scootaloo gazed in wonder over the scene--but her eyes were drawn to a crate in the corner, wrapped with giant ribbon, and topped with an equally enormous bow. It stood just a few inches shorter than Scootaloo, her eyes just barely high enough to glance over the top of it. Immediately, she ran for it and poked it gently.

"Not so fast, birthday girl." Rarity teased, as she tapped Scootaloo from behind. "You'll need to open this one first."

Rarity made her sit down in a big, plush chair they’d pulled into the center of the room, then handed her a box. Everypony gathered around to watch as the tore the wrapping paper off, then studied the box to see how to open it. A moment later, she shrugged, and simply ripped the panels off. As the cardboard parted and the packing tissue fell away, her eyes went wide. In her lap sat a shiny helmet and brand-new set of saddlebags.

Scootaloo gasped. "These are... awesome!"

"You really like them?" Rarity smiled, "Because, if you don't, I am more than happy to excha--" Scootaloo wrapped her hooves around her, cutting her off.

"I love these!" Scootaloo beamed, hooves trembling with glee. "The colors, the cutie mark! How did you even get this?"

"Oh, well, connections in the fashion industry can come in handy," Rarity murmured demurely. "Just a favor from a few friends, that's all."

Scootaloo glanced back down at her presents--then frowned slightly.The black helmet and bag with their stark red trim--while super cool--didn’t match the blue of her scooter.. She glanced towards Sweetie Belle, and saw her with that grin--that one she had when she was either really excited, or incredibly nervous.

And, suddenly, it dawned on her. Scootaloo’s eyes went wide, and she began to tremble.

"No way..." Scootaloo breathed. She turned back to the crate, tapped it again with her hoof. It rang with a hollow sound. "This has gotta be some kind of joke..." She hesitated , then began to try and pry open the crate with her bare hooves.

"Easy there, kiddo." Applejack chuckled, as stepped forward with a crowbar. She wedged it in under the lid, and, tongue between her teeth, began to work the bar up and down. Finally, with a light squeal, the face of the crate came free.

Then she saw it. Her mouth fell open, and she stared.

It was a brand new, custom-built scooter.

The deck was a brilliant crimson, with a white stripe decal, the handlebars dark orange, thick and heavy.. t was more compact than what she was used to, but It was the nicest piece of equipment she had ever seen--nicer, even, than what she had ever dared dream of.

Scootaloo stared, eyes glistening, slowly runnig her gaze over the entire thing from the wheels, to the handlebars, and back again--and once more, just for good measure. By the time she turned away, tears were streaming down her face.

"You guys..." Scootaloo choked out. "Y-you didn't have to do this."

"Oh darling, don't say such a thing," Rarity said with a grin. "It's the least we could do."

"We felt just awful not gettin' you nothin' fer yer cutecenera, sugarcube." Applejack added, "Why, we woulda got ya somethin' fer yer big day, anyhow."

"Thank you,” Scootaloo said with a sniffle. “So much!"

She went around the circle, doing her best to hold back the tears, and hugged each of her friends in turn. Finally, she came to Sweetie Belle and embraced her--then broke down completely, weeping tears of joy into her shoulder.

She felt grateful, cared for, and most important of course, loved.The food, the gifts, the presence of her closest friends--not to mention the scooter--it was almost overwhelming. Nopony had ever been so kind to her, not in all her years of her short life. Finally though, she wiped the last rush of tears from her face, and pulled the scooter from its crate.

Sweetie Belle brought over her helmet and bag, which Scootaloo promptly put on. She slung the saddlebags on, then popped the helmet on her head and connected the chin strap with a satisfying snap. She wheeled her scooter from its crate, jumped on, and, with one of her back hooves, kicked off. She went sailing out of the room, new wheels smooth as butter, down the hallway of the massive castle, barely missing Spike on her way out.

She burst through the front doors and soared down the steps, then kept going. She felt that beautiful sensation of the wind blowing her mane, and rustling her fur. She kicked even harder, sailed even faster, as she cruised over subtle ebbs and flows of Ponyville's main thoroughfare.

Everything felt incredible. The handlebars, the deck--compared to her old ride, it almost felt like she was ice skating. She swerved around pedestrians and market stalls, leaning into the turns like a professional racer, until the street opened up onto cleared to a cliff which towered over a sea of grassland below. Her wings out, humming like mad, the braced for the flight.

As she soared over the drop, she felt the blood pumping through her veins, and the adrenaline coursing through her entire body. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and, for the first time in her life, truly flew.

The landing was almost an afterthought. She landed it--how could she not?--then swung the scooter into a long, semicircular skid. She ground to a halt and stood there, chest heaving, sweat running down her face, and stared up at the cliff that had given her wings.

After several long moments, Apple Bloom poked her head over the top of the cliff. "That was amazin', Scoots!" she called down. Another moment, and she was joined by Sweetie Belle, panting.

"You like it?" she gasped.

"This is so awesome!" Scootaloo said with a grin, every inch of her being still thumping in time with her heart. There were no words for what she was feeling.

A few minutes later, and the three of them had managed to get Scootloo--and her scooter--back up onto the road. The three trotted back towards the castle, Scootaloo gently pushing her scooter along with her hoof. Every so often, she took her eyes off the road to gaze over the new scooter. Her new scooter. All hers.

She wiped at the threatening tears. The motion caught Apple Bloom’s eye, and she turned to her with a smile.

"You went crazy fast on that thing, Scoots!" Apple Bloom said.

"It's really light, and easy to handle," she said, with a modest smile. “Whoever they got to help really knew what they were doing. It’s…” she sighed. “It’s beautiful.”

"Best birthday ever?" Sweetie Belle asked with a grin.

"Best birthday ever," Scootaloo replied.

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