An Understanding Heart

by Alaborn

Scootaloo

An Understanding Heart
By Alaborn

Standard disclaimer: This is a not for profit fan work. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic is copyright Hasbro, Inc. I make no claim to any copyrighted material mentioned herein.

Chapter 9: Scootaloo

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Open Book dismissed Sweetie Belle as he opened the door. Scootaloo studied the departing unicorn filly, as if trying to gain some insight into her own fate. But she found her friend lost in thought.

“Come in, Scootaloo,” Open Book urged. The pegasus filly entered, and sank into the room’s beanbag chair.

Scootaloo remained quiet as she shifted around. “Although that chair might feel like a cloud, you can’t hide in it, Scootaloo,” the counselor said. “So shall we begin?”

“Okay,” Scootaloo said.

“I would like to start with a visualization exercise, Scootaloo. The time is a year from now. You’ve discovered your talent and earned your cutie mark. It doesn’t matter what it is. Tell me, what are you doing now?” asked Open Book.

“I guess I’m back in Cloudsdale, living with my parents, and attending flight school,” Scootaloo replied.

“Why do you think that?” said Open Book.

“You know, it means I’m growing up, and I’m sure to be ready for it, right?” Scootaloo said.

“Are you ready for flight school?” wondered Open Book.

“No!” Scootaloo shouted. “Just look at these!” The orange pegasus flared her little wings. To the earth pony counselor, they looked small, but he was no expert on the physical development of pegasi.

“What am I looking for?” asked Open Book

“My wings! I’m still missing a dozen primaries on each wing,” Scootaloo explained. “Without them, I can’t fly for more than a few seconds, let alone fly from Cloudsdale.”

“Your wing development. Is that normal?” Open Book asked.

The filly sighed. “The doctor says it’s in the normal range. The slow end of normal. Gah! Why is everything slow for me? I want to be fast!” she said, exasperated.

“There’s nothing wrong with being a late bloomer, Scootaloo. That’s true for wings, or growth spurts, or cutie marks,” Open Book said. “And it’s not good for you to worry about the things you can’t control. You can’t control your growth.”

“But I have been working on my cutie mark! And I got nothing!” Scootaloo said.

“Do you truly want to earn your cutie mark before you’re ready to fly?” asked the counselor.

“Of course!” said Scootaloo. “Why do you keep accusing me of wanting to fail?” she accused.

“Why do you think I think you want to fail?” asked Open Book.

“Why do you think I think you think I think… wait, where am I going with this?” said Scootaloo, flustered.

“Do you want to stay in contact with Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom?” asked Open Book.

“Of course,” Scootaloo affirmed.

“Let me ask you another question, Scootaloo. How is your relationship with your parents? Do you talk to them a lot? Do they understand your concerns about growing up?” asked Open Book.

“I see them once a week or more,” she started. “They keep telling me that I’ll find my talent, and my wings will grow, and that I’ll become a good flier.”

“If you asked them to let you stay in Ponyville until you were ready to fly, a good enough flier that you could visit Ponyville anytime you want, do you think they would approve?” Open Book posed.

Scootaloo thought for a moment. “I’m sure they miss having me around all the time, but I think they would agree,” she said.

“Then you wouldn’t be separated from your friends,” Open Book commented.

Scootaloo squeezed the beanbag chair. “You’re accusing me again!” she said angrily.

“I’m only trying to help you understand your own heart,” Open Book said. “I can see the bonds of friendship you have with the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Not even leaving Ponyville for good would sever those. I believe you, Scootaloo.”

In a way, though, Scootaloo was right. If she wasn’t afraid of being separated from her friends, she was afraid of something else. He had met many young ponies who resisted, knowingly or unknowingly, pursuing their true special talents, and suspected the pegasus filly was in a similar situation. But accuse was such a negative word, even when it was true.

“I think we could use a little break here,” Open Book said. “Tell me, did you ride your scooter here?”

“Uh-huh,” Scootaloo affirmed. “It’s parked out front.”

“Why don’t you go out and get your scooter, then meet me at the back door of the school,” the counselor suggested.

“All right!” Scootaloo said enthusiastically. She stood up, stretched briefly, and then dashed out of the room.

The little filly raced out the front door and picked up her scooter. She carefully donned her helmet and adjusted the strap under her chin. Then, with a kick and the flapping of her wings, she raced around the perimeter of the school building.

Scootaloo executed a 180 degree turn, and she rapidly came to a stop, mere inches from the school’s back door. Her heart pounding, she waited. And waited. The door stayed closed.

Meanwhile, Open Book hurriedly prepared the hallway. It took longer than he hoped, but he was finally ready. He opened the door and stepped outside, closing the door behind him before Scootaloo could look inside.

“Do your teachers tell you not to run in the hallway?” asked Open Book.

“All the time,” said Scootaloo.

“What about your scooter? Can you take it inside?” he continued.

“Heck no!” Scootaloo shouted.

“Well, I have good news for you. I’m not one of your teachers. Right now, I want you to take your scooter inside, and do a complete circuit of the school’s interior hallway, as fast as you can.”

Scootaloo grinned. “Coooool,” she said. Then she frowned. “But there are steps leading up to the part of the hallway with the offices,” she noted.

Open Book opened the door. “Take a look down the left hallway,” he said.

Scootaloo looked down the hallway, which led to the offices. At the top of the stairs, a wooden ramp waited for her. Her little wings flapped excitedly.

“The course for the Ponyville Schoolhouse Grand Prix is simple, Scootaloo. Start by heading to the right, and complete a counterclockwise circuit through the hallway. When you get to the stairs up, you’ll find a ramp waiting for you. Then, when you come to the stairs down, the other ramp will give you a chance to catch a lot of air,” Open Book explained. He pulled out a stopwatch. “Ready?”

“Am I ever!” Scootaloo replied.

“Then go!” Open Book called.

The counselor’s call to start caught the pegasus filly off guard, but she kicked and flapped her wings. She buzzed down the hallway, took a left turn, and had to make a hasty adjustment in her course. A cardboard box blocked half the hallway. She sped around the box, and saw more obstacles placed in front of her: benches, potted plants, even the familiar beanbag chair. She had to brake occasionally to thread the courses’ impediments.

After two more turns, Scootaloo came to the first ramp, there to lift her up the three steps’ elevation. She lowered her head and put extra energy into her wings. The orange pegasus flew into the air and slightly altered her trajectory, planning a course around the last obstacle, a broken desk. Finally, she set her sights on the second ramp. She hit it dead center, and relished the feeling of floating. Scootaloo spun her scooter 720 degrees as she descended to the lower level. As the wheels connected with the ground, she angled her scooter and tilted her wings to make the final turn.

Scootaloo braked hard when she made it back to the counselor. “That was awesome!” she exclaimed.

Open Book looked at the stopwatch and shook his head. “One minute and twenty-two seconds? I bet Rainbow Dash could beat that time, without even opening her wings,” he observed.

“It’s not fair! You didn’t tell me about the obstacles!” Scootaloo interjected.

“Do you think you could do better?” asked Open Book.

“I know I can!” Scootaloo replied enthusiastically.

“Then go!” Open Book announced.

This time, Scootaloo had been paying attention to the counselor. Seeing him look to his stopwatch, he guessed he was going to start another race. On this occasion, she didn’t lose any time to surprise. Scootaloo kept an image of the racecourse in her mind as she drove her scooter.

Another acrobatic maneuver off the ramp, a turn, and she was back. “One minute, four seconds,” Open Book announced once the pegasus crossed the imaginary finish line.

“I bet I could break a minute,” Scootaloo said confidently.

The filly took off immediately as Open Book gave the signal to go. This time, she bypassed the final ramp entirely, content to reach the ground and make that final turn as fast as possible.

“You did it. Fifty-seven seconds,” Open Book announced. “Now we need to return these items back to where they were.”

As the two ponies worked, Open Book continued the discussion. “Which of those three races did you like the most?” he asked the filly.

“I think it was the second one,” Scootaloo decided. “I had a good plan for speed on my second and third races, but I missed showing off just to cut time off my trip.”

“Have you considered any competitions like that? Some place to show off your moves?” Open Book suggested.

“I don’t know if there are any,” Scootaloo said guardedly.

“How about practice on your own? Maybe involve your friends?” he continued.

“It, uh, never crossed my mind,” answered Scootaloo, nervously.

“Don’t you want to be awesome like Rainbow Dash?” said Open Book.

“I can’t! I can’t fly, so I can’t be awesome like Rainbow Dash!” Scootaloo cried.

“Why do you like her?” Open Book asked.

“She’s the best pony! She always wins!” Scootaloo said.

“But that’s only when she’s flying, right? She’s easy-going on the ground?” Open Book wondered.

“No, she’s always competing, especially against Applejack,” Scootaloo said. She stopped pushing a box. “Oh.” The filly understood.

“You’re a brave filly, Scootaloo. You dived right into my little race, even though the school wall is a lot less forgiving than your normal tree branches. You’ve tried any number of crazy things in pursuit of your cutie mark. And you went on stage in front of all your classmates,” Open Book acknowledged. “All those things make you you, no matter whether you’re on the ground or in the air.

“Now, if I may offer one final piece of advice, the best fliers in Equestria come in two varieties. Some pegasi are natural fliers, and gain their understanding of flight through extensive practice. Others have the time to learn all the science behind flying first, because they’re not ready to fly.

“I remember helping one pegasus like that,” Open Book reminisced. “Now, I won’t mention her, or his, name, but you’ve probably seen this pegasus fly before, and fly well. If you know what you want to do, and how to do it, it becomes a lot easier to do it in the future.”

Scootaloo thought. That couldn’t be Rainbow Dash. One of her parents? No, maybe one of the Wonderbolts!

Open Book patted Scootaloo on the shoulder. “Now go out there and tear up Ponyville!”

Comments

[CoastalSarv]

For some reason I'm remembered when I was a substitute teacher and two older ladies of the teaching persuasion held a race using those wheel office chairs in the school corridor. (After classes, of course.)

[bahatumay]

Once i rode my bike through the halls. I got caught.
I am really enjoying the character development here.

[theNDinspector]

I'm curious, Is the pegasus he helped in learning how to fly that Scootaloo has probably seen before supposed to be Fluttershy? Or could it be Bulk "Snowflake" Biceps, or even Derpy?

[Alaborn]

4252400 The pony that he helped is left unnamed for a reason. It can be whoever you want it to be. Now, I think this was written before Snowflake appeared.

Most likely, it's one of the Wonderbolts.

[theNDinspector]

4252619 Yeah, that would make a lot more sense. Anyways, this was a great story overall, and I thoroughly enjoyed it.