I'm Tired of Waiting

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Scootaloo danced her hooves on the roof of the Apple family’s barn. She sent a glare up at the sun and blew a quick raspberry. She looked over at the other side of the roof, where Apple Bloom was setting a few shingles in place. “How the heck can you stand it up here?”

Apple Bloom picked a few nails out of her tool vest and stuck one into a shingle. She lifted a hoof and pounded the nail into submission. “Now don’t tell me the darin’ Scootaloo is afeared of heights?”

“What? No!” Scootaloo gestured aimlessly at the sky. “I’m talking about the heat! It’s sweltering! My feathers are sweating, it’s so hot.”

Apple Bloom smiled and hopped over to her friend. “Aw, don’t be that way. It’s real easy to ignore.”

Scootaloo raised a dubious eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?” She shrunk back as Apple Bloom’s uncomfortably-warm foreleg draped across her shoulders.

“Simple,” Apple Bloom said. She lifted a hoof outward. “Can y’all imagine Applejack standin’ there? Right there?”

Scootaloo nodded as she narrowed an eye.

Apple Bloom’s grin was as wide as a barn door. “Now just imagine her sayin’, ‘Tough crackers! Get back tah work!’”

Scootaloo flicked her tail to snap Apple Bloom’s rump. “You’re hilarious,” she said. “I’m gonna get us a lemonade.”

Apple Bloom snorted as she rubbed her rear. “You ain’t hardly done nothin’.” She shoved a shingle into Scootaloo’s hooves. “Get a section of the roof done, then we can talk breaks.”

Scootaloo slipped a nail out of Apple Bloom’s jacket. “Aaas yooou command, maaaster…”

Apple Bloom made her ponderous, careful way to her side of the roof. “Though if’n yer feelin’ hot, just flap them wings of yours. Ah sure wouldn’t mind a breeze, mahself.”

Scootaloo saluted. “Noted!” She glanced back at her orange wings and set them to beating. Before long, a fan-like sensation of cooled air flowed past her rear legs. Her rear legs and not much else, unfortunately. “You getting any of this, AB?”

“Nadda.” Apple Bloom used a bow to tie her red mane up in a tight bun. Sweat poured down her forehead. “Y-y’all just keep workin’. We won’t be up here long, anyhow.”

Scootaloo shrugged and lowered her shingle onto the roof. If she looked long enough, she could see rays of heat rising from its surface. She took the nail gently in her teeth and set it into place. She let out a little “Hi-yah!” as she slammed her hoof down on the fastener.

She lifted her hoof to find that rather than going through the shingle, her nail had merely bent in half. “Really? Really?”

She bit down on it and tried to pull it out, but only succeeded in lifting the roofing. She shook her head as the steady “pat, tick, thwack!” of Apple Bloom’s work assailed her ears. She set the shingle down and attempted to kick the nail upright, though it still refused to budge. She kicked it again, harder. Again, and again, and again she kicked.

She stomped on the offending nail, snorting steam. It more closely resembled a metal bow tie than anything used to hold a roof down. She flipped the shingle into the air and spun, readying her rear legs for a buck. Her kick met thin air, and she flopped to her stomach.

Apple Bloom looked down upon her with lidded eyes, hefting the abused roofing tile in one hoof. The farmer set the board down, grabbed a pry bar out of her vest pocket, and slid the teeth under the misshapen nail. One half-hearted kick later, the pry bar had, as was expected, pried the nail from its home.

“Ah appreciate the help, really,” Apple Bloom said. She tossed Scootaloo the pry bar. “Maybe you should hold on to this.”

“There, yah see?” Apple Bloom asked as she set a glass of ice-cold lemonade on the table. “Ah knew it wouldn’t take more than a couple hours!”

Scootaloo pushed her wet and frizzy mane out of her eyes. She grasped the lemonade and downed it in a single gulp. “More! Nourishment! More!”

“Okay, okay, keep yer feathers on straight.” Apple Bloom tipped a pitcher, filling Scootaloo’s cup with what might as well have been ambrosia. “Yah’d think ah led yah on an expedition to the Sandidry Desert.”

Scootaloo blew a breath between her lips. “More like the lifeless, barren wastes you have the audacity to call a roof. Of all the days for Cloudkicker to schedule a clear sky…”

“Grab a stray cloud next time, if’n yah want.” Apple Bloom took a large gulp from her glass. “Or make one with yer freaky pegasus powers, or somethin’.”

“Got a water source on standby that you’re not using for the apple trees?” Scootaloo asked. At her friend’s gesture to the negative, she shrugged. “Thought not.”

She leaned back in her seat and tilted her head back. “Besides, it’s not like one little cloud can make that much of a difference.”

Apple Bloom polished off her beverage and let loose a burp. “Hay, any little bit helps, right?”

The clomp of heavy hooves drew their attention to the road, where Applejack—Lord Mayor of Ponyville—was marching towards the farmhouse. She grumbled as she tugged at the cravat fastened around her neck. Her face was a stony mask of anger.

Apple Bloom tilted her head. “Long day at the office, Applejack?”

“Cud-chewin’ pansies and their protests and their bull-headed calls for impeachment and their stupid faces—” Applejack stomped a hoof. “You know what that ijit Ex-Mayor Mare wanted to do? She wanted to have me thrown in court for ‘Lowerin’ the morale of the city.’ Ain’t no law says ah gotta make everypony happy. Ain’t no law says ah gotta make anypony happy at all! Dumb road budget and dumb taxes.”

Apple Bloom passed her older sister a lemonade. “Y’ ever thought that maybe, just maybe, you ought to let the city run at least one celebration again? Just one Hearts and Hooves day?”

Applejack gave her little sister the stink-eye. “Ah’ll do just that as soon as we can walk on our own streets without breakin’ a leg.” She looked up at the barn’s roof and nodded in satisfaction. “Darn right it’s gonna keep the rain out. Lookin’ mighty fine.”

Scootaloo waved. “Don’t look too closely, Your Lordship”—Apple Bloom guffawed at that—“or you’ll see the spots where Apple Bloom had to charge to the rescue.”

Applejack loosened her cravat and walked over to the barn. She came out a few moments later with three apples balanced on her back. “Shucks, Scoots, we’re the Apple family. We don’t expect perfection on the first try.” She tossed an apple to each of the girls, which they caught in their mouths. “Or the second, or the third…”

Scootaloo stood and arched her back in a satisfying stretch. “Well, just for future reference, I’d rather slop the pigs than play ‘cat on hot tin roof.’”

“That could be arranged,” Apple Bloom chuckled.

“I’m serious,” Scootaloo said as she polished her apple on her coat.

“So am ah!” Apple Bloom cantered closer and took a big bite out of her apple. Her eyebrows danced. “Ah think Sugar Swine is sweet on yah.”

“Be still, my beating heart.”

Applejack chuckled as she appraised the rest of the farm. “All things bein’ equal, not too shabby for a first-time farmhand.”

“I could make it even more worth your while,” Scootaloo piped up. “I’ve got a technique that’ll have your fields watered in no time.”

Applejack’s brow furrowed. “Now, Sugarcube, we do things the traditional way here at Sweet Apple Acers. Pegasus magic—”

“Will do it in half the time with a third of the effort?” Scootaloo’s smirk showed a hint of teeth.

“Land sakes, girl, where’ve you been all my life?!” Applejack mussed Scootaloo’s mane and chuckled. “Ah’ll think about it.”

She walked over to the farm house’s porch and removed one of the steps. After a few moments of fishing around, she retrieved a few bits. “Work by the day, get paid by the day. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

Scootaloo’s wings fluttered as she cupped her hooves to accept the bits. “Thank you! I see this being the beginning of a beautiful partnership.”

Applejack drew up beside Apple Bloom and spoke out of the corner of her mouth. “Have summer jobs gotten more stable since ah was a filly, or what?”

Apple Bloom snickered. “Ah’ll see you at the clubhouse later, right?”

“Ahuh.” Scootaloo trotted over to her scooter, which was tied up to Sweet Apple Acres’ entry arch. She leaned on the handle bars and smiled at her friend. “Thanks for the opportunity, AB. Sorry about being kind of whiny.”

“S’ nothin’.” Apple Bloom waved her off. “But really, bring a cloud next time we’re on a roof. See yah!”

“See yah!” Scootaloo gripped the handle bars and kicked the back of her scooter. It spun around once before coming to a stop underneath her hoof. She clicked her helmet into place as she started beating her wings.

She was off, the wind in her mane and the sun at her back. She weaved along the dusty road back to Ponyville, leaning from side to side. The next part of the road was her favorite: The rough spot.

“Hah. And they wanna fix this?”

She brought her front wheel up and hopped across a sizable pothole. She continued hopping on her rear wheel for a few paces before bringing her scooter level and speeding on her way.

A lip of dirt jutted out of the ground just in front of her. She picked up speed. Her eyes narrowed. Her pulse pounded. She gritted her teeth and took the jump.

At the apex of her arc through the sky, she was weightless. Nothing holding her to the ground. Nothing dragging her down. Nothing in her way.

There was nothing holding her up either. She zipped towards the unforgiving, rocky road. A flutter of her wings angled her trajectory to the side, killing a small bit of her downward momentum. She heard her wheels crunch against the soil as she slid to a halt.

She looked over her shoulder. “Good air this time. Could be better.” She ran a hoof across her chin. She imagined building the “ramp” higher, but figured the Apples had a hard enough time on the road without it. She considered smoothing out the soil leading up to it, but didn’t like the thought of losing the bumps. She looked at the sky and frowned at the vast blueness of it all.

“Could be much better.”

At her top land speed, it was only a few minutes before she found herself downtown. She rolled past the shops and houses until she came up to a small building with a green roof. A sign hung above the front door, displaying the image of both a feather pen and a couch.

She pushed the door open and walked inside. “Dad! Dad, I’m home!”

A beige stallion, whose cutie mark was extremely similar to the sign outside his store, turned with a smile on his face. “Scootaloo! Good first day at work?”

“Hot!” she said as she hugged him. “Fierce, direct sunlight! Hours of potential heatstroke!” She grinned and brought out her pile of bits. “But kinda worth it.”

He ruffled her mane and walked back to the sofa he was inspecting. “Mom will be home in about an hour.”

“’Kay,” Scootaloo said. She trotted up the staircase two at a time. “I’m heading to the clubhouse after supper!”

The second door on the right led to Scootaloo’s room. It was carefully arranged; a bed sat by the window, a writing desk was situated beside her closet door, and the walls were decorated with posters of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Wonderbolts soared though one vintage poster, trailing flashing storm clouds and gossamer snowflakes. A lightning bolt struck through the center of another image, sparkling with pixie dust and framing a determined, grinning mare.

In the poster at the center of the wall, arrayed in full Wonderbolt regalia, was a rainbow-maned, blue-coated mare. The autograph over the top read “Keep being awesome, Squirt” in scrawling, swirly scribbles.

Scootaloo stared at this poster for a while. A smile twitched its way to her lips as she took in the six colors threading through the mare’s mane and tail. Her eyes ran up and down the uniform, studying every stitch and seam. Her smile fell when she came to the wings, unfurled and stretching upwards as if in flight.

She walked up to her door and shut it, revealing the mirror fastened to the back. She grimaced at the way her mane sat eschew on her head, and moved to smooth it back to its usual slight curl. “Gotta love helmet hair.”

She turned to the side, her profile filling the mirror. Her eyes scrutinized her long, narrow legs and torso. She flexed, and noted with satisfaction that she was not so much thin as she was lean. There was certainly no shortage of muscle, finely tuned to give her speed, speed, and more speed, along with no small amount of control. The cutie mark on her flank was lavender, to match her eyes. It swirled and spun until the wispy lines outlined the image of a butterfly in flight.

She spread her wings and pointed them at the ground, then let her front legs drop out from beneath her.

She grinned daringly at her reflection, suspended only by her wingtips. The wings bent, bringing her chin nearly to the ground, and then brought her back up to her original position. She repeated the wing-up several more times, each more rapid than the last. She lifted one last time and smirked at her double in the mirror.

“Bet ya can’t.”

A wing lifted, leaving her suspended by the other one alone. She pulled off a few slow wing-ups with that wing, then a few more with the other. “But I can.”

She stood, taking in slow, deep breaths. A jingle sounded out below, accompanied by a light, flowery voice. “I’m home!”

Scootaloo smiled at her reflection. “Make ’em proud, Scootaloo.”

Dusk settled over Sweet Apple Acres. A small light poured forth from the old clubhouse, illuminating a pony’s activity within. Scootaloo rolled between the trees, her tail flapping in her wake. She came to a stop at the foot of a towering apple tree and left her scooter beneath its leaves. It was a short hop up the steps leading to the doorway, a hop that grew shorter as the years went by.

Behind the door, singing softly, was a white-coated mare. She dusted off a shelf with the tip of her curly, lavender-and-pink tail. She turned to Scootaloo, the light from the lamp reflecting off of her frameless glasses. “Hi, Scootaloo!

“Hay, Sweetie Belle,” Scootaloo said. “Glad you could make it. I half expected you wouldn’t come.”

“A lady keeps her appointments.” Sweetie looked around at the clubhouse. “No matter how humble they may be, or how much better the boutique would be for hosting a sleepover.”

“It’s not so bad.” Scootaloo sat on a stool and rocked back and forth. “We really did a great job fixing up this place.”

Sweetie nodded, a frown on her face. “Yeah. In the ‘good old days.’”

Scootaloo chuckled. “I didn’t know we were old enough to have ‘good old days.’”

“We aren’t.” Sweetie Belle opened a set of saddlebags she had set to the side. She hovered a box of cookies out and set them on the table. “I was being ironic.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Scootaloo hopped the stool closer to Sweetie and wrapped a wing around her shoulders. “So what’s new, Sweetie Belle?”

Sweetie returned the hug with her foreleg. “Business at the boutique is good! I got at least five orders ready for delivery today.” She giggled. “I’ve even started to get clients that ask specifically for my designs.”

Scootaloo laughed. “You’re gonna outshine Rarity if you keep trucking like that.”

“Don’t you dare let her hear you say that,” Sweetie said. “I love her dearly, but I think those envious ears of hers can detect a stray compliment all the way in Canterlot.”

Scootaloo cleared her throat. “I said: Sweetie Belle is going to outshine Rarity one of these days!”

“Oh…” Sweetie Belle blew out a breath. “That’s gotta be worth at least one strongly-worded letter.”

“Please.” Scootaloo patted her friend on the back. “She’s proud of you, and you know it.”

Sweetie pushed her glasses up her nose. She smiled. “It’d be hard to deny it.”

“You’re practically a mini-Rarity.” Scootaloo flapped her wings and jumped off the stool. “Like Apple Bloom’s turning into a mini-Applejack.”

“We are not!” Sweetie Belle placed a hoof over her chest. She held that pose until she gave Scootaloo a wicked grin. “Rainbow Junior.”

“Ouch, mare.” Scootaloo glanced out a window. The moon appeared in the sky. “But not quite.”

Sweetie Belle brought out three plates and began to arrange the cookies by color, shape, and flavor. She sent Scootaloo a glance out of the corner of her eye, her eyebrows low. “You okay?”

Scootaloo tilted her head. Her purple mane bumped against the window. She rolled her eyes, pulled back from the glass, and settled on the floor. Her wings beat slowly as she spoke. “Crusaders. We’ll always be crusaders in some way or another, won’t we?”

Sweetie Belle looked back to her rump, where the image of a swinging silver bell sat. Musical notes danced at its side, as if flying out of it. “I like to think I’ve gotten everything I’ve crusaded for.” She pulled a blanket out of her saddlebags and wrapped it around Scootaloo’s shoulders. “But I guess that just means I get to crusade for others, now.”

Sweetie smirked. “It might take us a while, but we manage to get things done. Somehow.”

Scootaloo’s mouth became a thin line. She stared into space for a second, before a smile slowly returned to her face. “Yeah. Yeah, I think you’re right.”

The door opened as Apple Bloom strode through. She had ditched her vest and bun in favor of a bow that held most of her mane out of her face. She raised an eyebrow at her two friends sitting by the window. “Shucks, what’d ah miss?”

“Nothing, actually.” Sweetie Belle tossed another blanket to Apple Bloom. “I made you both cookies for a snack. Go on, try them out!”

Apple Bloom snatched the cloth out of the air. She looked over the three dessert plates with shining eyes. “Hay, they ain’t burned at all!”

“Your faith in my abilities is both astounding and inspiring.” Sweetie Belle lifted a cookie on a current of magic. She bit into it with a satisfied “Mm!” She grinned. “See? Not poisoned.”

Apple Bloom slid her plate off the table and carried it to the center of the room. “Ah ’preciate it, Sweets.”

Sweetie Belle gave her a smug smile. She carried both her plate and Scootaloo’s to the center of the room and sat on a third blanket. “Come and join us, Scootaloo.”

“Yup.” Scootaloo reached them in two bounds. She sat down with her blanket draped around her shoulders like a cape. She eagerly took her cookies. “Thank you kindly!”

“As I was telling Scootaloo, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie said, “business is quite good at the Carousel Boutique. Many orders both coming in and flowing out, and—”

Apple Bloom chuckled. “Yah didn’t have to steal fabric from yer sister again, didja?”

“Ha.” Sweetie Belle bit into a cookie to deliberately stall the conversation. “I’ll have you know that as a respectable businessmare, I am beneath such things.”

Scootaloo swept her blanket over the bottom half of her face and glared over it. “Vee must not qvestion zee meestress.”

“Pfft.” Apple Bloom leaned forward. “Know what ah think?”

Sweetie Belle’s lips pursed. “Hmm?”

“Ah think yah need to spend a li’l time workin’ down on the farm with me’n Scootaloo.” She closed her eyes and nodded to herself. “That’ll make yah nice an’ respectable.”

Sweetie leveled her eyebrows. “I think we can all guess how that’d turn out.” She prodded her soft flank. “You guys are the muscle here, not me.”

She rose and made her way over to a discarded set of saddlebags. She withdrew a brush and set to work on her curly mane. “Speaking of that, how was your first day as a Pseudo-Apple, Scootaloo?”

“Not too bad,” Scootaloo replied. “A little grease, a little sweat…”

“A lotta whinin’,” Apple Bloom sniggered.

“Yeah. That, too.” Scootaloo bit her lip and chewed for a moment before continuing. “It kinda made me start to think.”

Apple Bloom tilted her head as Sweetie perked an ear in their direction. “Thinkin’ ’bout what?”

Scootaloo munched on a double-chocolate chip as she gathered her thoughts. “Flying.”

Sweetie Belle’s head dipped down a few centimeters. “Oh.”

After taking a large bite of her cookie, Apple Bloom rolled her muscular shoulders and leaned on her forelegs. “Well, go’wan, Scootaloo. Thinkin’ what ’bout flying?”

Scootaloo looked out the window and into the night. “I shoulda just been able to fly off and be back with some shade in a flash. But I couldn’t. I’m almost a full-grown mare, and I can barely get off the ground.”

Sweetie opened her mouth, but Scootaloo cut her off with a lifted foreleg. “Hay, I know nopony thinks less of me, but I’m tired of them just not thinking less.”

“Well, good,” Sweetie Belle said. “Lots of ponies think way more of you than just how well you can fly.” The unicorn placed her hoof over Scootaloo’s and lowered it to the ground. “I… I thought you knew that.”

“Hay.” Apple Bloom walked behind Scootaloo and placed her chin on the pegasus’ shoulder. “You ain’t never gonna be judged that unfairly. Not by yer friends. Yer more’n a pair of wings.”

Scootaloo smirked and pushed Apple Bloom away. “Okay, okay, don’t go getting all sappy on me.” She looked at Sweetie. “And I know that, I really do. I just—”

She tapped her teeth together. “I really wanna fly, you guys. I’m tired of waiting.”

Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom shared a glance. Sweetie put a hoof on Scootaloo’s shoulder. “You know we’re with you, right?”

Apple Bloom stomped her foot on the floor. “Darn tootin’! We found our cutie marks by workin’ together, and heck if we ain’t gonna do it all over again!”

Scootaloo bit her lower lip in the midst of her grin. “You guys are the best, you know that?”

“Eeyup,” Apple Bloom chuckled.

Sweetie smirked. “You know what this means, right?”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle drew closer to Scootaloo. The speedster gulped. “Aheh. What?”

“Group hug!” came the chorusing answer. Scootaloo was buried underneath a small pile of pony limbs as the others expressed their affection for her. Her groan was drowned out by giggles as the three of them lay jumbled together in that old clubhouse in the apple orchard.

Some Things Won't Change

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“Sweetie Belle earned her cutie mark!”

Scootaloo jumped into the air and fluttered down on her tiny wings. “Can you believe it? It was so awesome! She was singing, and then everypony joined in, and then some were crying, and all the sudden there was a flash!”

Scootaloo bounced as her grin grew wider. “And then she couldn’t say anything because she was too busy screaming and laughing and crying all at the same time! And there was a big group hug and—”

“Whoa, whoa!” Rainbow Dash caught Scootaloo’s shoulders and held her steady. “That sounds awesome, Squirt, but you gotta take a breath before you turn blue!”

Scootaloo giggled. “Are you talking from experience?”

“Hah.” Rainbow ruffled Scootaloo’s mane. “So did she tell you how it felt?”

“Eh, she’s having trouble talking at all with that big smile on her face.” Scootaloo’s wings beat a mile a minute. “It’s only a matter of time before Apple Bloom and I earn ours, too!”

“You got that right.” Rainbow chucked the filly’s chin softly. “But I don’t know that I’d say she ‘earned’ her cutie mark.”

“Huh?” Scootaloo squinted one eye. “But she totally did. She did something awesome and ‘poof!’”

“Yeah, but cutie marks aren’t really about succeeding.” Rainbow Dash kicked her rear leg out and showed Scootaloo the thundercloud with the rainbow lightning bolt that was placed there. “Like, I got this after performing a sonic rainboom, but I had to practice for years and years before I could do it again.”

“But.. isn’t that a cutie mark for sonic rainbooms?” Scootaloo tilted her head. “Isn’t that who you are?”

“It’s… actually a lot of things.” Rainbow Dash jumped into the air and hovered, moving her legs around to tell the story. “It was a lot of things all coming together in that one moment. Defending Fluttershy, proving myself to those jerks, flying harder than ever. I just sorta…” Rainbow Dash shrugged. “I sorta decided what sort of mare I wanted to be.”

She picked Scootaloo up and set her on her back. “That’s what a cutie mark is, Scootaloo. It’s what happens when your heart overflows with magic, when it decides what it wants to do for the rest of your life. It’s not a trophy, it’s a promise to yourself.”

Scootaloo crossed her forelegs on top of Rainbow Dash’s head. “This is getting dangerously close to that sappy ‘finding yourself’ stuff.”

“Hey, them’s the breaks.” Rainbow Dash flew off the cloud they had been sitting on. “Take it from someone who’s not too into sappy ‘finding yourself’ stuff in the first place.”

Scootaloo sighed. She looked from her little wings to Rainbow Dash’s strong wings. “I already know who I want to be.”

“Yeah?” Rainbow Dash glanced back, even as she kept an eye forward. “Who’s that?”

“When I grow up, I wanna be as awesome as you.”

Rainbow Dash snorted. “Come on, Scootaloo. Don’t settle for that.”

“Settle?” Scootaloo jerked back. “You call that settling?”

“Oh yeah.” Rainbow Dash grinned. “Do yourself one better, Squirt. Be as awesome as you can be.”

A sunbeam smacked Scootaloo awake, metaphorically. She blinked as the warmth of the sunrise crossed over her eyes. She grimaced and looked to the side, where Apple Bloom lay. The earth pony was nearly completely covered with her blanket, with only the tip of her nose and forehooves uncovered. Scootaloo let out a low chuckle.

She lay still for a moment as the sun shone through the eastern window. Her body was in that strange “I slept on the floor” state where her muscles ached from lying on hardwood floors, but she knew it would hurt to get up. She extended her wings until they peeked out from beneath her covers. She angled them back and forth, and winced at the tiny pops the joints made.

There was a sound like glass clinking and a hissed “Horseapples!” behind her. Scootaloo sat up and looked over her shoulder. Sweetie Belle was rifling around in her saddlebags with a pronounced frown. Her mouth twisted in a gnarled grin as she pulled out a silver canister and set in on the table beside her glasses. She then produced a tiny measuring cup from the bag.

“What ya doing?” Scootaloo whispered.

Sweetie Belle jumped. She spun as she brought her glasses to her nose with a spark of her horn. “None of your business.”

Scootaloo pouted and crossed her forelegs. “Really?”

“Yes.” Sweetie Belle went back to the table. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not tired.” Scootaloo leaned to the side. “Are you okay?”

“I will be if you just leave me alone for a moment.” Sweetie unscrewed the cap from her canister with a twist of her hoof. “If I had known you were such an early riser, I would have woken up before dawn.”

“Can’t sleep when the sun’s in my face.” Scootaloo shrugged. “And Apple Bloom hasn’t replaced the curtains in here yet.”

Apple Bloom snored.

Sweetie Belle snorted. “Right.”

Scootaloo sucked on her bottom lip. “Why don’t you want me to know? Are you hurt?”

Sweetie poured a small amount of amber liquid into the measuring cup. It read “Two milliliters.” “It’s embarrassing.”

Apple Bloom’s snores grew in pitch.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “I wonder how we got any sleep with her around.” She nudged Sweetie in the shoulder. “Look, I’m not gonna go gossip any secrets around town. We learned our lesson. But sometimes secrets are easier if you share them with somepony else.”

Sweetie screwed the cap back on. “A wise pony said, ‘Two can keep a secret if one is dead.’”

Scootaloo shrugged. “I guess I won’t bug you about it. You’d better not be hurting yourself.”

“I’m healing myself.”

Scootaloo sat back as Sweetie swished the golden liquid around.

“My fairy strings—those little organs that bring magic from my heart to my horn?—are damaged, or malformed, or something stupid like that.” Sweetie gulped the two milliliters and shivered as it flowed down her throat. “So I got prescribed this cruddy medicine so I could still use magic.”

Scootaloo sniffed the air. It smelled faintly of honey. “Ambrosia?”

“Yeah. Equestria harvested, breezie brewed.” Sweetie Belle grimaced. “Stupid stuff stings all the way down.”

Scootaloo kicked a hoof as she stared at the floor. “How’d you find out?”

Sweetie looked away and slapped her cutie mark of a bell.

Scootaloo winced. “Seriously? But we were there when you—”

“I tried to cook a celebration dinner for Rarity that night.” Sweetie shrugged. “My magic spirtzed out while I was carrying a pot of boiling pasta to drain in the sink.” Her lip twitched. “She just… scooped me up and carried me to the hospital to treat my burns.”

“That’s why you were there?” Scootaloo shook her head. “Then why’d you say it was nothing?”

“I lied.” Sweetie lidded her eyes. “It’s a surprisingly easy thing to do when you’re stressed.”

“You didn’t trust us?”

“I didn’t trust myself.” Sweetie tossed the measuring cup into the saddlebags. “I didn’t trust myself to not just blubber all over you guys.”

“Sweetie, I didn’t know, I… That’s awful.” Scootaloo took a hesitant step forward. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I told you. It’s embarrassing.” Sweetie Belle trotted over to the middle of the room and began folding up her blanket. “And ancient history. As long as I take this stuff once a week, I’ll be fine.”

As she stuffed her blanket into her bags, Sweetie’s ears perked up. “Say, do you think your issue with flying is because of your fairy strings? It could explain why your magic doesn’t get you off the ground.”

“Aha. You know why that ain’t right.” Scootaloo turned to the side to give Sweetie a view of her profile. “It would be kinda impossible with how I got this mark.”

Sweetie nodded. “It was worth a shot. Would have been an easy fix.”

“Come on,” Scootaloo said. “When has crusading ever been easy?”

Sweetie Belle swished her two-tone tail in response. “If it’s after the fact, I can pretend it was easy.”

Scootaloo scrunched her muzzle up. “I don’t ever wanna forget how hard something was.”

“Your loss.”

Scootaloo grabbed Apple Bloom’s shoulders and shook. “Rise and shine. Want some breakfast?”

Apple Bloom mumbled, “Nope,” and went back to snoring.

Scootaloo and Sweetie exchanged a glance. Scootaloo shook her again. “Come on, Bloom. Some of us are hungry.”

“Eat without me,” Apple Bloom grumbled. Her blanket slid over her nose, covering her completely. “It’s mah day off.”

Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow. “Applejack and Big Mac let you have days off?”

“No.” The blanket lifted, revealing Apple Bloom’s eyes. Shadow covered them as she glared out. “Ah take them off, and those two can’t do nothin’ about it.”

Scootaloo and Sweetie exchanged another glance. “How’s that supposed to work out?” Scootaloo said.

“Rule on the farm is ‘don’t work, don’t eat.’” Apple Bloom sank beneath her covers. “So on Saturdays ah trade in breakfast and lunch for six more hours of sleep.”

After a moment of silence, the snoring started up again.

Sweetie smirked. “I guess we wake her when we go into town.”

Apple Bloom yawned as she followed Sweetie and Scootaloo into downtown Ponyville. “Y’all couldn’t give me two more hours?”

“No,” Sweetie Belle replied. “We have business to attend to. Not only of the more social variety, but also of the matter of getting Scootaloo airborne.”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “Any ideas on where to start?”

“Physical examination,” Apple Bloom said. “We gotta see where yer at b’fore we can guess ways to improve.”

The city had grown in the nine years since the Tree of Harmony’s seed had become Princess Twilight’s palace. Royalty tended to draw attention, and attention drew ponies, and ponies drew business. The downtown shopping district was a mile long, and two blocks wide. Stalls and permanent storefronts faced the street, with smiling ponies (and other creatures) waiting on customers.

Some things didn’t change quite as much, though. Carousel Boutique still sat near the edge of Mane Street, its purple colors and ruffled walls drawing the eye. The picture of a silver bell sat over the doorframe where three gems had once been displayed. The gems were set apart for use in Rarity’s branch of Carousel Boutique in Canterlot, while Coco Pommel’s branch in Manehatten held the picture of a hat with a red feather.

Some ways down the street, the regrown and refurbished Golden Oaks Library was shining in the sun, the leaves in its boughs catching the light. Spike could be seen exiting the front door, a large bag on his back. His long tail whipped from side to side as he walked. When he stood up on his rear legs, his head spikes were just tall enough to bump Big Mac’s chin. As it was, he did most of his travelling on all fours these days, since it gave him better balance on his hefty frame.

Sweetie Belle waved a hoof. “Good morning, Spike!”

Spike turned. He rose on his rear legs and waved back. “Hi, Sweetie Belle! Hi, Scootaloo! Hay, Apple Bloom. What’re you guys doing around town?”

“What else would bring us tah town on a perfect Saturday?” Apple Bloom said with a wink. “We’re headed to Sugarcube Corner. Wanna join us?”

“I’d love to, but duty calls.” Spike pointed at the bag on his back. “Mister Frypan hired me and Rumble to paint his house today.”

Scootaloo snickered into her hoof. “You guys still paying your debt to society?”

“It’s almost all paid up, actually,” Spike said.

“It’s only taken a year!” a voice said from somewhere up above.

Scootaloo looked up and grinned as a gray-coated pegasus stallion descended. “I haven’t heard any news about restaurants burning down lately,” she said. “You’re slipping.”

Rumble touched down and folded his wings. He brought his strong foreleg up to his chest to brush his coat. “I’ll have you know that I didn’t burn down the Silver Spoon Restaurant. Spike did.”

“It was only the hedges.” Spike pointed a claw. “And only because you panicked and bumped into me.”

“I didn’t panic. I made a strategic retreat and you got in my way.”

“Whatever.” Spike shook his head and looked at Apple Bloom. “Maybe the five of us can hang out later. It should only take the two of us a few hours to paint the house.”

“You sure?” Scootaloo said. “I know painting a house is a pain in the cutie mark. Especially outside.”

“We’ve got a nice system down,” Rumble said. “I paint the walls with a roller, and Spike follows behind me with a detail brush.”

“And I still manage to get done before you.” Spike dropped down to all fours. “See you girls later.”

Apple Bloom waved. “Hay, if you do get done early, look for us in the park. Scootaloo’s decided to finally learn to fly.”

Rumble looked back, his eyebrows low. “Huh? I thought you’d been working on that for forever.”

Scootaloo folded her wings across her back and looked to the left. “This time, I’m actually gonna do it.”

Rumble stared for a moment. He nodded slowly. “Okay. Good luck, Scoots.”

“Thanks!” she said. She jerked her head towards the next street over. “Come on. Ice cream awaits.”

“Ice cream and somethin’ else,” Apple Bloom chuckled.

Scootaloo looked at her sideways. “What?”

“Ah yes, your adoring public.” Sweetie Belle grinned ruefully. “I’ll find us a seat while you entertain the teeming masses.”

Scootaloo snorted. “The Cakes only have, like, four kids.”

“I swear they multiply every time I go there,” Sweetie said.

“Cool your jets,” Scootaloo said as she pushed the door open. “I got this.”

The Cakes had added on to the gingerbread house lookalike they called Sugarcube Corner. New rooms had been put in to give Pinkie Pie a little privacy, while allowing the older two kids to have Pinkie’s old room. Originally, the baby room remained in constant use, but lately it seemed that the Cakes let them sleep where they fell.

“Sugarplum, the baby’s eating the frosting again.”

“Honeybunches, Pound needs help with his homework.”

“Sweetums, Pumpkin needs her mane done up again.”

“Jellybear, don’t let Patty run outside.”

Cup and Carrot Cake bustled about as their children all but stampeded around the bakery. Cup carried a load of orders up to the counter on her back while she balanced her baby in her right foreleg. Carrot iced cupcakes as he helped Pound understand the concept of square roots (before long, his cupcakes started to look like complex math equations). Patty Cake, the toddler, trundled her way through the restaurant. Her jaw dropped when the three mares entered the door.

“Scootaloo’s here!”

Pumpkin settled for having half of her mane tied back as she bounded through the shop towards Scootaloo. Pound left math to the deeps as he fluttered his way over the counter. Patty rushed up to Scootaloo and wrapped her foreleg in a tight embrace. All three had wide grins on their faces.

“Can I ride your scooter?” Patty Cake asked.

“Sorry, Patty,” Scootaloo said. “I left it back at the farm for now.”

“Aw…”

Sweetie Belle tsked. “She didn’t even say ‘hello’ first this time.” She sauntered past the onslaught of foals. “I’ll be over by the window.”

Apple Bloom rubbed Pumpkin’s head. “Hay, kids. How’s the bakin’ comin’ along?”

“Pretty good,” Pumpkin said. “At least Pound can finally cook a pop tart without burning it now.”

Pound stuck his tongue out at his twin sister before jumping towards Scootaloo. “I’ve been doing like you said, Scootaloo. Twenty wing-ups a day, and my wings are getting a lot stronger. I can almost fly to the roof now!”

“You’d better not do that without adult supervision!” came his father’s voice from the kitchen.

“Well…” Pound grinned sheepishly and covered his mouth with a wing. “Maybe once.”

“Hay, remember the buddy system, alright?” Scootaloo chucked his shoulder. “You don’t have to do things on your own.”

Pound’s cream-colored cheeks blushed bright red. “Y-yeah. I think you’re right.”

“Besides, isn’t there that cute little pegasus filly just down the street?” Scootaloo smirked. “Lackadaisy, right? I’m sure she’d like to fly with you.”

“Well… well… You know…” Pound’s voice came out at a low murmur.

Scootaloo felt a tug on her wingtip. Patty Cake released an orange feather from her mouth and spoke. “Can you go to the farm and get your scooter?”

“Sorry, kid. It’d take an hour to get back here.”

“But can you try?”

Cup Cake chose that moment to walk by, her little baby settled quietly on her back. “That’s enough of that, young lady. What have I told you about begging?”

Patty Cake kicked a hoof. “Only dogs do it, and nopony likes it when they do it either.”

She turned back to Scootaloo. “But can I see your scooter?”

“Go on, shoo!” Cup gave her daughter a pat on the rump and sent her scuttling away. The baker shook her head and chuckled. “Scoots, I think you have the patience of a glacier.”

Apple Bloom laughed. “Patience? Scootaloo? Naw, not really. More like she’s built up a tolerance for some things. Sorta like a vaccination”

Pumpkin Cake gave Scootaloo a quick hug and ran back to her barrettes. Scootaloo gave Apple Bloom a sideways glance. “I think I have a low tolerance for snarky farmers.”

Pound Cake giggled. Cup wrapped her foreleg around his shoulders. “How about you help me and dad out and take these lovely mares’ orders, hon?”

“S-sure!” Pound galloped back to the kitchen to grab a pencil and some paper.

Cup Cake opened her mouth to say something, but a stray bit of pink outside the window caught her eye. She froze in silent horror. “Oh, Sweet Monkey Bread, it’s her.”

She glanced to the left and right. Not finding whatever she was looking for, she turned to Scootaloo. “Would you mind watching Rice for me? Just while I fill out a really tough order.”

Scootaloo took Rice Cake and held him against her chest. “Sure. Good luck. Mind if I ask—?”

Cup Cake was already marching back to the counter. “Sweetcheeks, Scylla is on her way!”

Carrot poked his head out of the kitchen. “Scylla? Now?”

Apple Bloom sat down beside Sweetie Belle and propped her head on a hoof. “‘Scylla’? The hay do they mean by that?”

“I expect we’ll find out.” Sweetie shifted in her chair to face Scootaloo. “Dear, the baby’s getting drool all over your coat.”

Scootaloo ignored her. She tickled the baby’s hoof pad and laughed. “I’ve got your foot! I’ve got your foot!”

Rice Cake laughed until he got hiccups. Scootaloo rubbed his back. “Hay, take it easy. That’s okay.”

Scootaloo set Rice on the table. “Say hello to Apple Bloom, Rice!”

Apple Bloom grinned and leaned forward until her muzzle touched the baby’s. Rice wrapped his forelegs around her nose. “Hay, leggo you!”

Scootaloo turned Rice towards Sweetie Belle. “Say hello to Sweetie Belle!”

Sweetie rolled her eyes. She gave the baby a shallow smile before giving Scootaloo a pointed look.

“You’re no fun.” Scootaloo brought Rice back down to her lap. “He’s a baby. They’re cute. Embrace the cuteness!”

“He’s absolutely adorable.” Sweetie Belle opened the menu leaflet on their table. She pushed her glasses up her nose and read. “Nopony’s saying he’s not.”

The bell above the door rang with a merry little jingle. A dark pallor fell over the bakery as an earth pony mare walked in, her head carrying a sparkling diamond-studded crown. Her blue eyes flashed as she observed the patrons of Sugarcube Corner like a predator. A small smirk tugged at her mouth when she saw the three mares sitting by the window. She trotted up to the counter and stood over Cup Cake.

Cup held up a notepad. “May I help you, Miss Tiara?”

“The last order was disappointing,” Diamond Tiara said. “You’re lucky you’re the only bakery within a twenty-mile radius. Quite the impressive monopoly, I gotta say.”

Cup Cake nodded slowly. “May I ask for specific problems you had, ma’am?”

Diamond Tiara sneered. “The pastry was too dry, the frosting was too sweet, and you misspelled ‘corporation’ on the cake.”

“That last one’s not true at all,” Apple Bloom whispered. “Ah was at the banquet, ‘cuz of the Apple family partnership. Diamond just thinks there’s an ‘E’ in ‘corporation.’”

Diamond Tiara’s ear twitched in Apple Bloom’s direction. “I already have the specifics here,” she said, sliding a piece of paper over to Cup. “I expect you’ll be able to have the food done by Friday?”

Cup Cake picked up the order and read over it. “Um. Yes, I think we will.”

“Good.” Diamond Tiara walked away. “I’ll be by Friday to pick it up. Put it on my tab for now.”

“I hate tabs,” Cup Cake muttered under her breath.

Diamond walked up to the three mares and leaned a foreleg on the table. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the crusaders without a cause.”

“We didn’t come here to fight, Diamond,” Sweetie Belle said. She didn’t look up from the menu. “We came to eat ice cream in peace. Go away.”

Diamond Tiara scoffed. “Who said anything about fighting? You act like I’m out to get you.”

“Oh gee,” Apple Bloom said. “Why would we ever imagine that?”

“I’ve only ever tried to be a friend.” Diamond pouted. “I even invited you to my cuteceanera.”

“So you could make fun of us,” Apple Bloom said.

“Details.” Diamond Tiara held out a highly-polished hoof and examined it in the sunlight. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Oh, please, Diamond,” Scootaloo said with gritted teeth. “Please let me kiss your cutie mark and shine your hooves. Please.”

Rice Cake squeezed his eyes shut and began to whimper. Diamond Tiara looked at the baby in Scootaloo’s hooves, and then grinned like a shark. “Oh, is it yours? Very admirable, deciding to keep it.”

“Hay. Back off.”

Diamond Tiara looked down her nose at Pound Cake as he trotted up to the table, a notepad clutched under his wing. He shuffled his hooves and looked at the floor. “You should probably go,” he said.

Diamond Tiara examined the colt. She bent down to look him in the eye, her lips twisted in an inaudible growl. “You just cost your parents a job, you little snot.”

She trotted out of the bakery.

Scootaloo looked out the window. She saw Diamond Tiara march across the street, kick over a barrel of oranges, and run towards whatever doorway she planned to darken next. “Some things won’t change.”

Pound gazed at the door, his eyes tearing up. His lips trembled as he looked away from the mares at the table. He sniffled as he started to run. Carrot Cake met him on the way to the kitchen and caught him in a hug.

“Hay,” Carrot said. “You did the right thing, buddy. I’m proud of you.”

Pound sniffed and buried his head in his dad’s chest.

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “You sure showed her! Now she knows she can’t just walk all over you guys.”

Pound peered past his brown mane, his face flushed. He nodded, and then ran back into the kitchen.

Scootaloo sat back with a sigh, rocking Rice back and forth. Cup Cake joined her husband by their table and took the baby back.

“Your order is on the house, ladies,” she said. “We’re sorry you had to deal with that.”

“I’ll hear none of that, Mrs. Cake,” Sweetie Belle said. “Without Diamond’s two-fold patronizing, it’s going to be hard enough without giving away your food. I’m picking up the bill.”

“I can handle my own bill, Sweetie.” Scootaloo bumped a hoof on the table. “I’m employed now, remember?”

Sweetie Belle crossed her forelegs. “As is Apple Bloom, but she’s not complaining.”

Apple Bloom shrugged. “‘Never turn down free stuff,’ Granny always said.”

The three looked at each other for a moment. Cup Cake coughed.

“Fine,” Scootaloo said. “I’ll take the mint chip, hot fudge sundae.”

“Turtle sundae, please,” Sweetie said.

“Black cherry, single scoop.” Apple Bloom smiled at Sweetie. “Thanks for the treat.”

Five minutes later, they all had very generous portions set before them. Scootaloo clutched a spoon between her feathers. “You guys think Diamond is ever happy?”

“Probably.” Apple Bloom took a large bite out of her cone. “Ah think ah saw her meltin’ ants with a magnifyin’ glass the other day.”

Sweetie Belle gently scooped a bit of caramel into her mouth. “It’s unladylike to make light of another person’s foibles.”

“It’s unladylike to terrorize everypony you meet,” Apple Bloom said. “Ah’m pretty sure she has it comin’.”

“It’s unladylike to gossip.” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Right?”

Apple Bloom rolled her shoulders. “Not that ah’m sayin’ ah’m tryin’ to be a lady, as opposed to just yer normal run-of-the-mill female.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right.” Scootaloo licked ice cream off the edge of her snout. “You can keep your fancy parties and funny dresses, Sweetie Belle. Apple Bloom and I are gonna have some fun.”

Sweetie leaned on a hoof. “Is this the part where I squeal and remark about how scandalous you two are?”

“Eeyup,” Apple Bloom said.

“Sorry to disappoint, but the past few years I’ve been building up an immunity towards your antics.” She turned to the window with a grin. “I won’t even do a double take if you start rolling around in a mud puddle.”

“Then ah’ll save it for a special occasion.” Apple Bloom polished off her cone, stood up, and clapped a hoof on Scootaloo’s shoulder. “Y’all ready to go?”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo fluttered her wings. “Let’s head to that park!”

Any Movement That Isn’t Backwards is Forwards

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Scootaloo was short for a pegasus. The fact didn’t escape her as she beat her wings at a furious tempo, grabbing as much height from the air as she could. Her legs dangled about a meter above the ground. Her size became even more prominent as she looked Apple Bloom in the eye.

The earth pony had inherited whatever Apple gene gave Big Mac his impressive physique, though catered towards a more muscular female figure. Sort of like Applejack with an extra foot or two of height. Scootaloo’s wings fought against gravity, but her progress stopped right at the top of Apple Bloom’s head.

“That’s probably good for now, Scoots. Don’t wanna wear you out,” Apple Bloom said.

Scootaloo sunk to the ground and panted. “Yeah. Was I any higher that time?”

“No.” Sweetie Belle rolled up a measuring tape and wrote down the data. “Have I mentioned that ice cream before excessive exercise is generally a bad idea?”

“You could have said it sooner,” Apple Bloom said. “But ah doubt that it would make much difference. She’s a little higher than last she checked, but only by an inch or so.”

Scootaloo bent down and stretched her wings. “So any ideas? Is it my wings? My muscles? What’s holding me back?”

“Have you tried flapping less…” Sweetie rolled a hoof around as she searched for a word. “Enthusiastically? I’ve watched the occasional pegasus takeoff, and I’ve seen none of your rampant flapping.”

“Rampant flapping, huh?” Scootaloo leveled her eyebrows. She flapped her wings slowly, gently. She rose into the air inch by inch, until she came level with Apple Bloom’s head once more.

“No change, then?” Sweetie Belle scratched an “X” on her notepad.

Scootaloo plopped to the ground. “It’s literally the dumbest thing. I can’t get any higher than that just by flapping.”

Sweetie Belle looked over her glasses. “But you can get higher other ways?”

“You give me a ramp, a scooter, and a runway, and I’ll show you ‘airtime.’” Scootaloo grinned and dusted off her chest. “Just one of my many amazing talents.”

Apple Bloom chuckled. “Anything else?”

“Well, I can jump pretty high.” Scootaloo rubbed her chin. “Really high, really.”

Sweetie levitated her measuring tape around her body. “Can I get a rough estimate?”

Scootaloo took the end of the tape in her mouth and winked. She looked up, sighted a lone cloud floating above the park, and coiled her body. She sprung.

She was weightless at the apex of her jump. She looked straight down at her friends, laughing at how small they looked from up top. She reached out with her front hooves and grasped the side of the cloud. Her back legs flailed around for a moment before she got enough purchase to scramble aboard.

The park was bustling with activity, as it always did on sunny Saturday afternoons. Foals played with balls and Frisbees. Mares and stallions sat by the fountain, reading or eating. Some just lay in the grass, soaking in the sunlight. Scootaloo looked into town, where she could see the market stalls beginning to bustle as they approached the highest sales hours.

She saw Rumble rolling paint onto Mr. Frypan’s house. The yellow paint had gotten onto his hooves, his nose, and the tips of his wings. He looked down, got a sinister smile on his face, and ran the roller across Spike’s back. The dragon reached back and felt the paint. He lifted a fist and shouted at Rumble, who flew away laughing. Spike bent down to pick up a pail of paint, doing a bad job of hiding his grin.

Scootaloo guffawed and covered her mouth with a hoof.

“Hay! You gonna come down to earth anytime soon?” Apple Bloom shouted up.

Scootaloo sat up on the cloud and beat her wings. It descended little by little, leaving tiny puffs of water vapor behind. “Yeah, yeah. Can’t a girl enjoy the view?”

Sweetie Belle scrunched her muzzle up and raised an eyebrow.

Apple Bloom took the tape measure in her mouth and dragged it to Scootaloo. “Yah jumped nearly thirty feet, Scoots! That’s gotta be a record or somethin’!”

“Not for a pegasus.” Scootaloo shrugged. “It ain’t too impressive when I should be able to do that in my sleep.”

“Sleep nothin’,” Apple Bloom said. “What we gotta do is find a way to combine yer jump with yer wings and you can just sorta bounce around. Just to get it started.”

“Like a grasshopper?” Scootaloo shook her head. “Doesn’t sound much like flying to me.”

“But it’s a start,” Sweetie Belle said. “It’s the first step in a longer journey. This could be the beginning of your quest to get better.”

Apple Bloom nodded. “Especially since you ain’t been, uh, improvin’ much. Like you said.”

Scootaloo looked from one friend to the other. “I guess it can’t hurt, can it?”

“Not in the slightest!”

All three turned their heads simultaneously. Pushing a baby carriage, holding an empty leash that seemed to have a mind of its own, and wearing the spickest of spats, was the King of Chaos himself. Discord grinned with his single snaggletooth. “Hello, my favorite chaos-causing ponies! What are we talking about?”

Scootaloo took a step closer and chanced a look inside the carriage. Angel Bunny sat within, wearing a pink bonnet and sucking on a pacifier. She could almost feel the indignation radiating off the rabbit. “We’re just talking about flying and stuff. What’re you doing?”

“Just going for a brisk mid-afternoon stroll with Pudding here.” Discord wriggled the leash to keep it from wrapping around his leg. “Down, girl! Down!”

He stretched over her and examined her wings. “Ooh, finally getting down and dirty with it, then? Good for you. You know, I’m something of an aerial connoisseur myself.”

“Really?” Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle shared a glance. The unicorn was shaking her head with fervor. Scootaloo ignored her silent warning. “Got any tip and tricks?”

Discord propped his paw on his hip. “It’s all in the magic, Scootaloo! Don’t let them tell you it’s the wing exercises. You can only get so far flapping your appendages like a maniac.” He got a wistful smile on his face. “Though, that does get you pretty far.”

He lifted his head to the sky. “Speaking of flying reminds me of the first time I met your sisters. I stole Rainbow Dash’s wings and stuffed them in a box. Good times.”

Scootaloo glared at him. He cleared his throat.

“By ‘good,’ I mean horrible, horrible times, of course. Dreadful. That was before I became such good pals with—” Discord ran his talons through his goatee. “Well, I don’t exactly know if I’d call your sisters amazing friends. Pleasant acquaintances, perhaps. Noncombatants? Yes, I do believe that is the word for it. Noncombatants.”

Apple Bloom coughed into her hoof. “Well thank you much for the advice, Mister Cord.” She draped her hooves around Sweetie and Scootaloo’s shoulders. “Ah think we’ll just take our leave an’ let you keep on enjoyin’ yer walk.”

“It was a pleasure talking at you,” Discord said. “If any of you see Fluttershy, tell her I have absolutely no idea where Angel is.”

He wheeled the carriage away. Angel Bunny waved at them in desperation as he moved far out of sight.

“You know,” Apple Bloom said, “he’s pretty good with magicy-type things. Maybe we could ask him if he know’s what’s—”

“We don’t need any more help from him than we’ve gotten,” Sweetie Belle said. “The less I see of that fiend, the better.”

Scootaloo dug her hooves into the cloud and molded it into the shape of a grinning draconequus face. “I dunno. He’s mostly cool.”

“He’s insane.” Sweetie Belle scowled. “I think he’s clinically insane. Dangerous and unpredictable.”

“By the way, Sweetie Belle,” Discord said from over her shoulder.

She screeched and sprung into the air.

Discord rested his paw on her back. “I’ve been thinking of a nice gift to give Fluttershy on her birthday. A dress, not too fancy, not too drab. You seemed to be the pony for the job.”

Sweetie Belle cleared her throat. She cleared it again, again, and a fourth time. “Stop by the shop Monday and we’ll discuss it.”

“I knew I could trust Rarity’s daughter!” He clapped her back, causing her to wince. “I’ve seen some very professional work around town with your name on it. I look forward to seeing what you come up with!”

“I’m her sister,” Sweetie Belle said, but Discord had vanished again. “Clinically insane.”

“Yeah, okay. He’s not the most ‘together’ pony in Ponyville.” Apple Bloom reached behind her head to adjust her bow. “You ready to test out the hoppin’, Scootaloo?”

Scootaloo hopped off the cloud and spied a pony-less path through the park. “Hay, no better time than the present, right?”

She ran, flapping her wings at an even beat. Her hooves pounded the grass and kicked up little trails of dirt. When she felt she had built up enough speed, she jumped into the air. She felt herself being pulled upward and forward. The wind whistled by her ears and stung her eyes.

Scootaloo’s wings twisted as she tried to grab the air, to steer herself or keep her afloat. They did nothing to change her trajectory.

It was at that point that a thought crossed her mind. “Wait, where are the breaks on this thing?”

She flared her wings and brought her hooves close to her body. Her speed increased.

“Aw, son of a—”

She plowed into the loamy earth. Her body dug a ditch roughly ten feet in length. She was buried under a thin layer of dirt, her mouth full of grass and her tail in the air.

“—gun.”

Apple Bloom trotted up with Sweetie Belle in tow. She looked over the wreckage with a furrowed brow. “You okay under there, Scoots? Can yah feel yer hooves? How many hooves am ah holdin’ up?”

“F-f-five?” Scootaloo shook her mane. Soil fell like rain. “Five hundred, maybe?”

“Ah only got four!” Apple Bloom grasped Scootaloo’s chin and looked at her pupils. “Look at me and tell me yer name.”

“Scootaloo…” Scootaloo frowned. “You know my name!”

“Ah wanna make sure you know it.” Apple Bloom stretched out one of Scootaloo’s legs. “Where do yah live?”

“Quills and Sofas. Four-oh Mane Street.” Scootaloo pulled back with a smirk. “Ponyville, Equestria.”

“Fine, maybe yer not concussed.” Apple Bloom grasped her friend’s leg and dragged her to her feet. “You should still be a little more careful.”

“What can she do?” Sweetie Belle asked. “It’s not as though we could just drag a mattress out here.”

“You ready to move that there mattress, Sweetie Belle?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m not sure this is a—”

“Here she comes!”

“Wait!”

Scootaloo cut off a length of bandage with her teeth. She wrapped it around her front-left knee and glared at a busted old mattress pulled from somewhere in Carousel Boutique’s basement. A rusty spring stuck out from its fabric.

“You sure you got all your shots?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Yeah, yeah.” Scootaloo brushed her mane. Dirt, grass, and a few flowers tumbled out. “They gave me that stupid one that makes all your muscles hurt.”

Sweetie Belle grasped the spring in her magic and shoved it deep into the mattress. She produced a sewing needle and thread from her saddlebags. “Shall I flip it over so that you can try again?”

Scootaloo shrugged. “What could it hurt?”

“Ouch.”

Scootaloo had nailed the landing on the mattress. Then, she had bounced off and hit the ground.

She pulled herself to a seated position. “Grasshopper-style flying may be the dumbest thing ever.”

“Well—” Apple Bloom scratched the side of her head. “Well, yeah.”

“Perhaps we should move on to some other sort of… of…” Sweetie rolled her eyes. “Let’s just call it a day.”

“Seems a might anticlimactic,” Apple Bloom said. She rubbed her stomach. “But ah guess ah’m game fer some food.”

“Hay, any movement that isn’t backwards is forwards.” Scootaloo brushed off her dirty coat. “Or something.”

Apple Bloom gave Scootaloo a cheesy grin. “Now if that ain’t a perfect example of a hokey sayin’.”

“Hokey pokey, yourself.” Scootaloo rubbed a sore spot on her side. “I’m with Sweetie Belle. Let’s call it a day and think of something else tomorrow. I’m not gonna survive this crud for much longer.”

Apple Bloom took the edge of the mattress in her teeth and slung it over her back. “You gonna want this back, Sweetie?”

“It’s yours if you want it,” Sweetie Belle said. “You’re both invited back to my place for supper, by the way.”

“Sorry, ah got chores to do before sundown.” Apple Bloom started the long trot back to Sweet Apple Acres. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Fair enough,” Sweetie Belle adjusted her glasses. “How does supper at Carousel Boutique tomorrow sound to you, Scootaloo?”

“Sounds great,” Scootaloo said. “I know my folks wanna have me home for supper tonight. Mom gets kinda antsy when I’m away, you know.”

“We all have parents with idiosyncrasies.” Sweetie Belle started in place and gave the retreating Apple Bloom a double-take. She sighed when she noticed the farmer was out of earshot. “Guardians with idiosyncrasies.”

“Hay.” Scootaloo nudged her shoulder against Sweetie Belle’s. “You don’t have to walk on eggshells around Apple Bloom.”

“Just because she is not easily offended,” Sweetie Belle said, “does not mean that I should say offensive things.”

“Is it offensive if she doesn’t get offended?”

“I don’t want to take the chance.” Sweetie Belle took a deep breath. “Then I shall see you tomorrow. I promise only the finest cuisine!”

“Looking forward to it!” Scootaloo waved as Sweetie left the park.

“Wow. What happened to you?”

Scootaloo looked up at her dad as she backed into the shop. She limped on her cut leg a little, but it was already feeling better. “I listened to Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle. Again.”

Davenport laughed. “I thought you were done crusading after you got that cutie mark.”

“Nah, just time to start a new crusade.” Scootaloo wrapped her good leg around his shoulders. “Mom home yet?”

“Nope, you’ve still got time to make yourself presentable.” Davenport’s smile was uneven. “Don’t wanna worry her.”

“Then I’ll see you when my coat’s orange again.” She galloped up the steps two at a time and ignored the pain in her knee.

Her dad brushed the dust that had fallen from her leg to his coat. “Make sure you clean the dirt off the shower! I don’t want any black rings around the edge!”

Scootaloo shut her eyes as she stepped into the shower and just let the water carry the loose dirt away. The warmth soothed her aching muscles, and the refreshing steam left her feeling a little cleaner. A quick shampoo removed the more stubborn dirt and grass stains, as well as some dried blood.

Incidentally, she managed to find several stinging cuts she was previously unaware of.

She toweled off the mirror and giggled at the limp mane on her reflection. It hung over her eyes and nose. “Looks like a purple mop.”

She ruffled it until it stood up on its own. A few hasty brushes later, she considered it presentable enough for supper at home. She ran to her room, tossed her wet towel over the back of a chair, and rattled her way down the steps. She reached the first floor just as the door to Quills and Sofas opened, admitting Scootaloo’s mom.

Roseluck greeted her husband with a kiss on the lips, and her daughter with a kiss on the forehead. Davenport gathered them up in a group hug. “So, how were your days?” he asked.

“We sold plenty of bouquets today,” Roseluck said. “It’s that season where a young pony’s fancy turns to certain thoughts, after all.”

“Mine was pretty great,” Scootaloo said. “Had fun with the girls and got a little flying practice in.”

Roseluck blinked. “You mean you finally flew?”

“Well, no.” Scootaloo shrugged. “But I’m a step closer. We tried combining my jumping skills with my hovering.”

Roseluck bent down to examine Scootaloo’s knee. “Is that where this came from?” She looked her daughter in the eye, her eyebrows bent up. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

“I’m fine, Mom, it was just a scratch.” Scootaloo backed away a step while putting on her best reassuring smile. “Besides, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were there. They wouldn’t let me get hurt.”

Roseluck sighed through her nose. “Experience begs to differ.”

“Mom, we were, like, eight when that happened.” Scootaloo chuckled, though Roseluck looked unconvinced. “How were we supposed to know catapults wouldn’t help me fly?”

“Horse sense.” Roseluck shook her head and shut her eyes. She opened them after a moment and put on her best warm smile. “Just as long as you’re okay.”

“I’m better than okay,” Scootaloo said. She hopped her way into the kitchen. “What’s for supper, Dad?”

“Fruit salad,” Davenport said. He winked at Roseluck. “Your favorite.”

Roseluck tittered. “Sometimes I wonder if there should be a picture of a salad on your flank.”

“Nah, don’t wanna brag.” Davenport touched the tip of his nose to hers. “Besides, my salads wouldn’t be nearly as good without you to toss them for.”

“Hello! Starving pony in the kitchen!” Scootaloo clacked a plate against the table. “Might pass out from the sheer cheese in the atmosphere!”

Roseluck scrunched up her nose. “Wouldn’t want her to starve, would we?”

“Nope.”

They walked into the kitchen together. Roseluck dropped the day’s mail on the counter. Scootaloo sidled up and flipped through the letters.

“Anything for me?” she asked.

“I didn’t look, Honey.”

“Junk, junk, junk, bills—” Scootaloo passed a letter to her dad. “Looks like something from the Riches. Junk, bills…”

Scootaloo froze as she saw one letter addressed to her. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw the return address.

Rainbow Dash
222 Jet Stream Lane
Cloudsdale, Equestria

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Davenport said as he tossed the salad. “Looks like Filthy Rich is finally looking to get some newer furniture—”

Scootaloo’s squeal drowned out his next words. “Rainbow Dash!”

Roseluck squinted one eye and straightened up. “What, Scootaloo?”

“Rainbow Dash wrote!” Scootaloo tore the letter open and began to read.

Hay Squirt,

Sorry I couldn’t visit over the weekend like usual, but they’ve been really keeping me tied down in Cloudsdale. We’re starting to get ready for the next batch of recruits, and that means making sure the safety protocols are airtight. Lightning Dust is heading that up, since she’s the one we made them for—Ha!—but that still leaves yours truly in charge of everything else.

They especially need me after all the time I spent shooting that movie. How awesome is that, by the way? Rainbow Dash: Movie Star! Remind me I gotta find a way to sneak you into a few scenes of the sequel. Now that I know the producers, I think I could pull a few strings.

I tried to convince my team I took the part to advertise the Wonderbolts, but they didn’t believe me. What a bunch of—

Anyway, the movie’s coming out next week. I’ll be coming to town next weekend, so maybe we can see it together. Until then, though, I got you three tickets so that you and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle can catch the flick. Tell your other friends how awesome it is, too!

Hay, could you do me a favor? Check up on Tank to make sure he’s doing okay. He should have plenty of food, but maybe he’d like to see a friendly face. I’ve never seen a tortoise get as restless as he does when he’s not attached to that silly whirly-copter-thing. He’s my pet, alright!

I’m looking forward to finding out how you’ve been doing! How’re your exercises coming? Have you flown yet? I heard you were gonna take a summer job with the Apples. If Applejack works you too hard, let me know and I’ll give the Lord Mayor of Ponyville a royal karate chop!

Keep being awesome, Squirt!

Rainbow Dash.

Scootaloo opened the letter fully and watched three slips of gold foil fall out. She picked them up and read. “Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone: The Movie! Starring Rainbow Dash! I can’t believe it’s coming out next week!”

Davenport dished the salad out to Roseluck’s and Scootaloo’s plates. “Sounds like it’ll be fun. Are those tickets?”

“Yeah, for me and the other crusaders!” Scootaloo’s wings fluttered like a hummingbird’s. “It’s gonna be so awesome!”

“Well, sit down and eat, and you can tell us about it.” Davenport filled his own plate and sat down. “Or aren’t you starving to death anymore?”

“Ha,” Scootaloo said. She took her seat. “Ha, ha, ha.”

The sun set behind her as Scootaloo stared up at Rainbow Dash’s cloudhouse. It had been burnt down in a freak magic accident about two years ago, but had been rebuilt even bigger and better than before. There was a whole other wing, with an entertainment room for when Rainbow Dash had visitors from Cloudsdale. It had the usual books that nopony read, flowers that nopony sniffed, and chairs that nopony sat in.

Rarity and Fluttershy had insisted they stock the room themselves.

But Rainbow Dash had the last laugh. She used the room to put together her own projector studio. She could run her own movie nights with almost the same amount of quality she could get at the theater. It was a little smaller, but that came with not wanting to add an entire theater to the house.

Yet, anyway.

It also had three stories. Mostly bedrooms, with adjoining baths. It had turned into a literal cloud mansion the day Rainbow Dash found out being a Wonderbolt meant being a gracious host as often as she led a show.

What hadn’t changed was the rainbow waterfall that dissipated in midair, and the distance from the house to the ground.

Scootaloo coiled her legs, took a deep breath, and jumped. She twisted in midair, kicking her legs up high and sailing with her wings held out to catch the edge of the cloudhouse’s porch. She balanced on one wing with her legs up for a minute, and then let herself fall to her feet.

“Holy cow,” a voice said.

Scootaloo jumped back and almost fell off the porch. “Who’s there?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Rumble stepped out of the front door. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Scare me?” Scootaloo rubbed her cheek. “I was ready to punch you in the face.”

“Thank you for not.” Rumble flapped his wings once. The tips were still covered in yellow paint. “So what are you doing up here?”

“I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Scootaloo snickered. “You look like a taxi.”

“Tax—” Rumble looked at his yellow hooves. “Oh, yeah. Heh. It’ll wash off. Eventually.”

He swung his tail around and showed her the feather duster tied to the end. “Rainbow Dash hired me to housekeep for her. I come in every week and tidy things up. And I make sure it isn’t infested with flying spiders.”

Scootaloo cringed. “Those are a thing?”

“Anansi,” Rumble said through clenched teeth. “Creepiest things I’ve ever seen.”

Scootaloo shivered. She walked past Rumble into the house. “So you’re really serious about getting your debt to Silver Spoon paid back.”

“Heck yes.” Rumble followed her in. “A year is way too long to spend owing her anything.”

“My condolences.” Scootaloo walked through the white, cloud-constructed halls.

Rumble ducked into a bedroom and called out over his shoulder. “Hay, I’m still waiting for your totally-credible reason for breaking into Rainbow Dash’s house!”

“She asked me to take care of Tank this weekend.” Scootaloo poked her head into the room as he re-solidified the moisture on one cloudy shelf. “She still keep him next to the master bedroom?”

“Yeah. I’ve been letting him crawl around his room.” Rumble placed a bookend that looked like a lightning bolt next to a series of rainbow-colored books. “He’d probably like to go for a flight around the house, though.”

Scootaloo walked up to Tank’s tank. The tortoise’s habitat was basically a small house on its own. Plenty of dark places to hide, lots of nice places to sunbathe under the skylight, and more food and water than he could use in a day. Tank looked at her as she approached, his mouth turning up in a lethargic smile.

“Hi, Tank! How you doing, buddy?” She patted his head. “Have you gotten wrinklier while I wasn’t looking?”

The tortoise made a little “hmm” sound.

Scootaloo went to the other side of the room and retrieved a small propeller from a stand. She twirled the blades. “You wanna go flying? I’ve got just the thing for you!”

She strapped it to his shell. Tank held his breath for a moment, his beady eyes shut tight in concentration. The propeller spun on its own, lifting him into the air. Scootaloo ran down the hall, waving him on. “Come on, show them how it’s done!”

She led Tank out the door and let him whirl around outside. He kept to the porch and what passed for a lawn on the cloudhouse. He dipped through the rainbow waterfall, splashing little flecks of color on Scootaloo’s wings. She grinned and splashed him right back.

Rumble exited the house, a bag strapped to his back. Scootaloo raised a hoof. “Hay, Taxi! You done playing maid, yet?”

Rumble rolled his eyes and walked over. “Yeah, Rainbow Dash’s house always has really solid construction.”

Scootaloo sat down next to the rainbow pool and watched Tank zip around. “Find any anansies?”

“No flying spiders to report, no.” Rumble sat next to her and rolled his head. “Oof. Sorry we couldn’t hang out today.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that? Painting take longer than you thought?”

“Spike wanted to get it done today.” Rumble stuck his tongue out. “Do you know how long it takes to paint one wall? Two hours. Mr. Frypan’s house has six.”

Scootaloo winced. “I do not envy you.”

“I don’t envy me, either.” Rumble chuckled. “But Spike was right, it’s nice to have it done.”

“How close are you to paying it off?” Scootaloo asked.

“Just around ninety-five percent.” Rumble wiggled a hoof. “Give or take. Almost there.”

He extended his wings and gave them a lazy flap. “So how about you? Did you manage to fly?”

“No.” Scootaloo lifted her leg and showed him the bandage. “Apple Bloom got a bright idea, but it didn’t quite work out. She had me jumping and trying to hover at the same time.”

“What comes up, must come down?”

“That exactly, and when I came down…” Scootaloo brought a hoof to the cloud and made a deep impression in the surface. “Choo. Splat!”

“Looks like you came out okay, though.” Rumble grinned. “You wouldn’t be Scootaloo without a few scrapes and bruises.”

“Ha!” Scootaloo punched his shoulder. “And you wouldn’t be Rumble without a dumb comment or two.”

Rumble snickered. He fiddled with a tuft of cloud for a little bit before reaching into his bag. “Hay, speaking of dumb comments—”

Scootaloo watched him search blindly through his bag. “What’s up?”

“You know that Daring Do movie coming up?” Rumble smacked his forehead. “Who am I kidding? Of course you do.”

“Rainbow Dash is starring. Duh.” Scootaloo crossed her forelegs and smirked. “What about it?”

“Well, I don’t give the Silver Spoon Restaurant all the cash I scrounge up…” Rumble slid the bag off his back and stuck his nose inside. “I save up a bit here and there… And I managed to score a couple of tickets.”

He pulled two strips of golden foil out of the bag and presented them to Scootaloo. “So, I figured, hay, you like Daring Do and Rainbow Dash, I like Daring do and Rainbow Dash, we should see the movie together. What do you think?”

Scootaloo burst with laughter.

Rumble’s eyes darted between Scootaloo and the tickets. “Is that a ‘no’?”

“S-sorry.” Scootaloo wiped away a tear. “Sorry. It’s just that I got three tickets from Rainbow Dash literally two hours ago. Thanks, though.”

Rumble squinted one eye and tried to smile. “Wow. Talk about bad timing. I should have asked this morning.”

“Nah, we would have run into the same problem. No biggie.” Scootaloo stretched her back and fluttered her wings. “Hay, maybe you can take Featherweight or something.”

Rumble stuffed the tickets back into a small pocket in the bag. “No offense, but it isn’t really my life’s goal to take Featherweight out to a movie.”

Scootaloo leaned towards him. “Is it your life’s goal to take me out to a movie?”

Rumble raised an eyebrow. He sucked on his bottom lip. “Maybe.”

Scootaloo snorted. She pressed a hoof down on Rumble’s shoulder to help her stand up. “Here, Tank! Let’s get you ready for bed!”

She trotted away from Rumble with Tank flanking her. The pegasus stallion dug a furrow into the clouds with his hooves.

“Okay, then. Yes!” Rumble stood up and pulled up to her side. “Yes, it’s kinda my life’s goal to take you to a movie.”

“‘Maybe’? ‘Kinda’?” Scootaloo smirked. “These are words spoken like a true sissy.”

“Okay, so maybe I’m kinda a sissy.” Rumble pressed his lips together. “Scootaloo, it would be my honor to accompany you to a movie.”

“It sure would.” She tapped his chest with a hoof as they entered Tank’s room. “Some ponies would pay good money to sit next to this pegasus.”

Rumble blew a breath through his pursed lips. “Scootaloo, will you go to the movie with me?”

Scootaloo unbuckled Tank’s harness with her teeth. She looked through her mane at Rumble. “Why do you wanna go with me?”

“’Cause…” Rumble’s wings shivered against his sides. “’Cause you’re awesome, and funny, and beautiful, and cool, and I really enjoy being your friend.”

Scootaloo felt her face burn. She patted Tank on the back of his shell and sent him trundling into his habitat. “Not bad reasons.”

“No?” Rumble shrugged. “Why’d you ask?”

Scootaloo looked around the room, avoiding eye contact. She took a breath and met his gaze. “I wanted to make sure you were sure.”

“Yeah?” Rumble bared his teeth in a weak smile. “Am I sure?”

Scootaloo half-grinned. “Maybe.”

Rumble chuckled. “So, you wanna go to the movie together?”

“Maybe!” Scootaloo marched towards the front door. “We’ll have to talk schedules tomorrow! What’s a good time to meet up?”

“Uh. Ah.” Rumble ran after her. “I’ve got a bunch of odd jobs… After supper? Around sunset?”

“Hay, why not?” Scootaloo stepped up to the edge of the cloudhouse’s porch. “I’ll see you then?”

“One thing.” He held out a hoof. “Where’d you learn to do that awesome wing-stand thing earlier?”

Scootaloo tore a piece of the cloud off and stood on it. “Learn it? I invented it!”

She used the cloud to glide down to the ground, and then made her way back into town.

How Long Until it Starts Working?

View Online

“So, Apple Bloom earned— discovered her cutie mark today.”

Scootaloo sat atop a newly-fueled raincloud. She watched the world scroll by as Rainbow Dash pushed it through the sky. She looked at Rainbow Dash’s cutie mark: A thundercloud with a tri-color lightning bolt.

Rainbow Dash spared her a glance and a grin, though she kept her attention on where the cloud was going. “That’s awesome, Squirt! Tell me about it.”

“Well…” Scootaloo lay down and stared at the ground. She rubbed a little furrow in the cloud to rest her chin. “She asked Sweetie and me to stick around while she tried to learn how to applebuck from Applejack. We’re not all that well built for bucking, so we really just watched.”

Scootaloo blew the tip of her mane up. “She kept messing up. Only a couple apples were dropping.”

“It was her first time working in the orchard, right?” Rainbow Dash asked. She eased the cloud into place, fitting it like a puzzle piece into the giant cumulous cloud above Ponyville. “Nopony’s gonna be that great the first time they try something.”

“That’s what I thought, but Apple Bloom took it pretty hard.” Scootaloo blinked. “She started crying.”

Rainbow Dash’s head popped up over the edge of the cloud. “I guess that would be pretty—”

“She said she’d been practicing for months, but it’s never gotten better.” Scootaloo sniffed. “She ran off and left us.”

Rainbow Dash’s mouth pressed together, with the edges dipping down. She opened her wings wide and gestured to her back. Scootaloo hopped on.

“What’d you do?” Rainbow Dash asked. She scanned the skies for another cloud to fill and move.

“Sweetie and I ran after her, while Applejack just sorta…” Scootaloo shrugged. “I dunno. I guess she wanted to give Apple Bloom space or something. I thought it was… dumb.”

Rainbow Dash found a cloud. She let Scootaloo jump to it, and then started to draw moisture from the atmosphere. Little droplets of dew collected on her wings, which she rubbed into the cloud. “Applejack knows that sometimes you gotta let the waterworks run before you can make somepony feel better.”

“Fine, but I knew Apple Bloom needed us.” Scootaloo puffed her chest out. “I ain’t ever gonna leave her.”

She could feel the cloud getting wet and squishy under her hooves. Before long, the dampness faded as the water fell to the lower part of the cloud. Rainbow Dash grabbed a hold and dragged it through the air.

“So what happened, Squirt?”

“We found her in the back of the barn, with the little chemistry set she got from Princess Twilight.” Scootaloo smiled. “She was mixing up a special brew. She had this little apple seed in a flower pot.” Scootaloo rolled onto her back and stared into the blue. “She’s been working on that new potion forever.”

Rainbow Dash chuckled. “I think I know where this is going. The potion made the plant grow, right?”

“Nah.” Scootaloo turned to Dash. “She poured a whole beaker on the thing and nothing happened.”

“Huh.” Rainbow Dash flew towards the cumulus. “That sucks.”

“Yeah. She started crying again and saying how she’d never be as good a farmer as Applejack. She said she’d never get potions right, and she’d just be a blank flank her whole life.” Scootaloo stood up as the two clouds connected. “So we hugged her.”

“Sounds like a good time for a hug,” Dash said.

“Yeah.” Scootaloo went back on Rainbow Dash’s back. She wrapped her forelegs around her neck and put her cheek against her mane. “So I told her… maybe she doesn’t have to be a farmer like Applejack. Maybe she should be a farmer like Apple Bloom.”

Rainbow Dash’s head swiveled around. She stared at Scootaloo with wide eyes.

“Yeah, kinda the same thing you told me.” Scootaloo tapped her teeth together. “She stared at the pot for a while. When she finally got up, she walked up to the pot and sighed. She said she’d keep working on the formula.”

Scootaloo grinned. “Then she squeezed a couple tears out of her eyes, and they fell into the pot. Then the whole thing exploded into an apple tree!”

“Holy cow!” Rainbow Dash laughed. “Then did it happen?”

“Totally! She was jumping and gasping and all of a sudden there was a flash!” Scootaloo’s wings buzzed. “Her cutie mark is a white flower with pink buds next to it. I don’t really get it, but she says it’s something about how the whole world just opened up. Or something. I dunno.”

She rested her head against Rainbow Dash’s neck. “So it made me wonder something.”

“Yeah?” Rainbow Dash spotted a cloud and angled her wings to head towards it. “Whazzat?”

“What if my cutie mark isn’t about flying?”

Rainbow Dash slowed down. She stared at the cloud with a furrowed brow. She set Scootaloo on top and then sat across from her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I just…” Scootaloo rubbed her foreleg. “I want so bad to have a flying cutie mark. I know it in my feathers that if I could just get off the ground, I’d get my mark.” Scootaloo looked off into the distance, where the cumulus was beginning to take the form of a cumulonimbus. “But what if I’m wrong?”

Scootaloo frowned as Cloudkicker set a bit of cloud in place. “What if I can’t fly?”

Rainbow Dash shuffled her hooves. There was a deep rumble through the sky as Thunderlane gave the cumulonimbus a kick and started the storm. The weather team scrambled for the upper reaches of the cloud cover, where they could watch the rain fall and the lightning sizzle. Rainbow Dash felt a drop hit her in the nose and looked up. “Let’s get you a little higher, huh?”

She dove beneath the cloud and pushed from the bottom. They rose up until they were level with the top of the tallest storm cloud. Rainbow Dash sat beside Scootaloo and wrapped a wing around her.

“A lot of your cutie mark comes from what talents you have. Some of it comes from how much you like doing them. Some of it’s because you can’t imagine doing anything else. Some of it’s because you know that it’s what you were meant to do.”

Scootaloo rubbed her nose and stared at the cloud. She tried to not look at the two wet spots collecting at her hooves.

“But like I said earlier, there’s a point where you choose your cutie mark They’re not just floating through the air, waiting for a pony that looks like fun. There’s a point where it’s not just talent, it’s choice.” Rainbow Dash squeezed. “That part where you say, ‘Yeah, that’s me.’”

Lightning flashed and thunder rolled. The cloud they were on trembled.

“I believe that you’re gonna fly, Scootaloo. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for years…” Rainbow Dash glared into the storm. “But don’t you ever, ever give up. When life tells you it ain’t happening, just say ‘To heck with you, life! I’m gonna fly!’”

Rainbow Dash’s ears folded back. “Maybe your cutie mark won’t be about flying. That’s okay. That doesn’t mean you’re not gonna fly, because your cutie mark will be you own chosen mark. It’s gonna show who you are, and there ain’t nopony and nothing that can take that from you.”

Scootaloo bit back a yawn as she pulled her belt tight. Her purple dress needed another refitting from Sweetie Belle. She might have been short for a pegasus, but she was still growing. A little. Enough that her sleeves were just that much too tight, and her skirt that much too short. She supposed it wouldn’t make much of a difference if she sat the whole time, which she planned to do.

Her mom appeared behind her and tapped her shoulder. “Wake up, Honey.”

“I am awake,” Scootaloo said.

“You were standing still with your eyes closed.”

“I was”—Scootaloo yawned—“thinking.”

“Thinking.” Roseluck moved in front of Scootaloo. Her dress was a mix of several different shades of red, folded across each other to imitate rose petals. “Probably about all the sleep you didn’t get last night.”

“Hay, I knew what I was getting into.” Scootaloo rolled her shoulders. Her sleeves creaked as the seams strained. “I’ll get some catch-up beauty sleep tonight.”

Roseluck slipped a rose into Scootaloo’s mane and smoothed back her curl. Scootaloo crossed her eyes and tried to look at her mane. She turned to a mirror and grimaced at the brushed-back look it had. “What’s wrong with how I normally wear my mane?”

“You mane is nice,” Roseluck said. “It needs to be nicer on Sunday.”

“Fine.” Scootaloo flapped her wings and winced as she heard a thread snap.

“So you’ll be going back to work on Monday?” Roseluck walked out of Scootaloo’s room and down the hall. Scootaloo followed.

“Aw, dang, that’s right.” Scootaloo’s jaw tightened to prevent another yawn from escaping. “I’ll have to go to bed earlier.” She clapped a hoof over her face. “No, that’s not gonna work, either.”

“Why not?” Roseluck turned right from the steps into the kitchen. “You could just come right home after supper with Apple Bloom and Sweetie.”

“I… have an appointment.” Scootaloo stopped at the door to the kitchen and walked backwards. “Real important. Can’t miss it.”

“With who?” Roseluck looked to the door. Scootaloo wasn’t there anymore. She rolled her eyes and poured oats into a bowl.

Scootaloo sat down on one of the sofas in the lobby. The sky outside was dark, but she could see lights in the windows of the house across the street. The second story, anyway, since the lower level was a store, just like Sofas and Quills. Most of the places downtown were like that.

Davenport poked his head into the lobby. “You’d better grab something to eat, Kid. We’re gonna head to the meeting pretty quick.”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo sucked on the inside of her cheek. “Dad, can I talk to you about something after the meeting? In private?”

Davenport frowned. He tightened his bolo tie. “You mom and I are here whenever you—”

“Private, just for a minute,” Scootaloo said. “Like, I don’t care who you tell after I tell you. Just… private for a sec.”

Davenport blinked. He bit his lower lip and smiled. “I think I got you covered.”

“Both of you’d better get your oats before I use up all the milk!” Roseluck called from the kitchen.

Davenport gave Scootaloo his best carefree smile. “Eat up, Kid.”

Scootaloo matched his smile.

Nearly all of Ponyville turned out for the weekly meeting. The first sunrise of the week, Sunday, was a time to be thankful. To remember. To pay homage. To sleep through Father Fabio’s opening word.

(1): He was a notoriously poor navigator under the ground. It was he who caused the Great Diamond Dog Stock Market Collapse. Meaning he collapsed the cave that contained the stock market. He found a nice vein of diamonds, however, which he used to fund his rapid transportation to the furthest town.

Fabio the Diamond Dog had come to Ponyville after exile from his pack (1). The first few years had been rough, between the dug-out flower gardens and the constant chasing of cats (and the occasional griffon). Sooner, rather than later, Fabio had found his true calling in legend and tradition. Soon, he rivaled even Twilight Sparkle for sheer depth of knowledge of what had come before. So, when Father Waddle had fallen ill and could no longer perform the Sunday Sunrise Service, he was asked to stand in.

It stuck. “Welcome, little ponies, to Sunday Sunrise.”

It wasn’t that the diamond dog’s voice was soothing, or droning, or even ignorable. It was scratchy and grating, and he wasn’t that great a public speaker in the first place. But for peat’s sake, it was before sunrise. It was time for sleep, and nopony seemed to understand that.

Even so, Scootaloo snorted awake.

“Today is day to remember friendship and how it save Equestria in days before unification.”

Scootaloo had heard those exact words a bajillion times before, from several different voices, week after week. Maybe not those exact words, since Fabio seemed unable to comprehend the use of the word “the,” but pretty close.

“Today is day to be thankful to princesses for raising sun and moon.”

A glimmer of light appeared over the horizon, bathing one corner of Ponyville’s town square with orange. Scootaloo could see Diamond Tiara sitting next to Silver Spoon. Both were shielding their eyes from the sudden glare.

Scootaloo smiled a pleasantly wicked, if petty, smile.

“Today is to remember Creator’s gifts! Teach unicorns to harness sun and moon. Teach pegasi to fly and mold weather. Teach earth ponies to grow food and shape world.”

Scootaloo leaned back and yawned mightily. She opened her eyes when she realized that she was yawning right in another pony’s face. Apple Bloom looked down with a grin. “Waitin’ for a treat or somethin’?”

Scootaloo’s mouth snapped shut. “Woof.”

Apple Bloom chuckled until Applejack elbowed her in the ribs. The mayor glared daggers at the two crusaders until they both turned back to Fabio on the stage.

“Give to zebras dominion over secrets. Give to griffons charge to protect. Give to diamond dogs urge to explore.”

He went over every sapient species. Every single species in the book, except for the draconequus. Discord was lobbying to have the service changed to read ‘Given to the draconequuses was the love of the unexpected.’ Most ponies failed to see how that had a positive impact.

Scootaloo felt eyes on the back of her neck. She looked over her shoulder and spied Discord sitting next to Fluttershy. He waved his fingers at her, like he knew she’d been thinking about him. She ignored him and adjusted a feather as though it was the real reason she’d looked back.

“Give to breezies knowledge to heal. Give to changelings thirst for companionship.”

“Talk about a sucky gift,” Scootaloo heard her dad murmur. Roseluck stifled a snigger.

The sun appeared over the horizon, a few minutes after dawn’s first light. The entire square brightened, revealing the families who had before been silhouettes against the black. Scootaloo spied the Cup and Carrot Cake with their kids, Thunderlane and Cloudkicker with Rumble, Dinky with her mother…

And Filthy Rich, sitting on the exact opposite side of the square from his daughter.

Scootaloo stared at him for a second, eyebrow raised, and then figured she didn’t blame him.

She decided to do something productive while her mind wandered and looked at Rumble. The young stallion was as dressed up as he ever was, with a black bowtie around his neck and a slicked-down mane. He looked uncomfortable in even that. His wings fidgeted and he kept rocking from side to side, his strong legs flexing and unflexing.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes with a grin. Her ears perked up as Sweetie Belle and Spike took their places beside Fabio.

“Now rise,” the diamond dog said, “for singing of holy anthem.”

Spike sat down in front of a keyboard and cracked his knuckles. He and Sweetie Belle shared a glance, and he set to playing the intro.

Sweetie bowed her head, closed her eyes, and sang softly. Soon, the rest of the gathering joined in.

“The fire of friendship lives in our hearts…”

With the sun in the sky and ponies talking all around, Scootaloo was finally able to shake that last feeling of drowsiness. Rumble bolted right after the service ended, on his way to complete whatever chores he’d agreed to. Apple Bloom punched Scootaloo in the shoulder and said they’d meet Sweetie at Sweet Apple Acres. Discord was up on the stage playing the piano and making it sound suspiciously like an army of kazoos.

That left Scootaloo to drag Davenport to the side while Roseluck spoke with Fluttershy and Lyra Heartstrings.

Her father put a foreleg around her shoulders and pulled her close. “So what’s bugging you?”

“Not really bugging me.” Scootaloo extended a wing and placed it on her father’s back. “Um. Rumble wants to take me to a movie.”

Davenport nodded. “That’s nice of him.”

“I mean… Rumble wants to take me out. To a movie.” Scootaloo grinned, through her mouth tilted down on the left side. “And, um, what do you think?”

Davenport’s eyes widened. One eye twitched before he could get his face under control. “And what’d you tell him?”

“I said ‘maybe,’” Scootaloo said. “I said we’d have to meet and compare schedules.”

“Uhuh.” Davenport rubbed his chin. “And why do you suppose he didn’t ask me for my permission?”

Scootaloo’s ears lowered. “I guess you can ask him when you’ve managed to hunt him down with your posse.”

“I’m not gonna hunt him down.” Davenport snorted. “He’s a good guy. I wouldn’t have any problems, as long as I get an opportunity to lay down the law. I’ll talk with him today.”

He tilted his head. “You didn’t want Mom to know.”

Scootaloo glared at the ground. “If I told her a colt was interested in me, she would freak out.”

“She kinda has a right to know, Kid.”

“I want you to tell her.” Scootaloo lifted her head. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you first. You can tell her, right?”

“I… yeah…” Davenport narrowed an eye. “I’m not gonna turn into your messenger boy, am I?”

“If the horseshoe fits,” Scootaloo said. She giggled as her dad shook his head. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re still gonna have to talk to Mom about it,” Davenport said. “You know that, right?”

“Well”—Scootaloo folded her wings tight—“well, we’ll both know what we’re gonna say, then. Won’t we? We’ll both have time to think.”

Davenport’s face drooped. “Go on, Scootaloo. Your friends are gonna be waiting.”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo trotted off in the direction of the farm, undoing her belt as she went. She looked over her shoulder. “Thanks again, Dad.”

Davenport blew a breath through closed lips. He looked over at Roseluck and swallowed.

Scootaloo wriggled around inside her too-tight dress as she struggled to remove it. She got her head stuck in the neck hole, leaving her purple mane to dangle out the front.

“Oh look, Silver, it’s the Charity Case Crusader.”

Scootaloo pulled the last of her dress over her head. She flopped it across her back and continued past Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Diamond did a passable jackal impression with her grin.

“Everybody throw bits! Otherwise, how is the pegasus who can’t get off the ground going to make a living?”

Silver Spoon flipped her braid over her shoulder. “Knock it off, Diamond.”

Diamond Tiara ignored her and walked alongside Scootaloo. “I heard all about you exploits in the park the other day. It sounds like you and the ground are very well-acquainted. Tell me, do you moonlight as a lawn dart?”

“Give it a rest, Tiara.” Silver Spoon drew up along Scootaloo’s other side. “I think you’re boring her.”

Diamond Tiara’s lower lip jutted out. She stuck her nose in the air, turned around, and marched away.

Scootaloo looked up and over at Silver Spoon. The taller mare was watching Diamond walk off. There was a frown on her face, but Scootaloo could see something else in her eyes. Something that sparkled.

“So, what was that all about?” Scootaloo asked. She studied Silver’s eyes, and the sparkle faded as she turned her head. “Don’t tell me you grew a conscience.”

“I am a respectable business mare,” Silver Spoon said. “I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Or a reputation to change?” Scootaloo scrunched her muzzle up. “Or hide?”

“What Diamond Tiara doesn’t quite understand is that customers are more likely to return if they enjoy the service and your company.” Silver lifted a polished hoof. It gleamed in the sunlight. “These are especially important for a restaurant.”

“Yeah, call it a hunch, but I’m probably not gonna go to the Silver Spoon Restaurant anytime soon.” Scootaloo increased her speed and outpaced Silver Spoon. “I’d have to work for a week to afford, like, a breadstick. Thanks, though.”

Silver Spoon stood in the road, a small, quirked smile on her face as Scootaloo rounded a corner. “No problem, Crusader.”

Scootaloo approached Sweet Apple Acres’ barn. The large, red building had been rebuilt at least twenty times over the past five years. That was nothing compared to the year where it had been renovated, destroyed, painted, raised, popcorned, and Discorded, but it was still one of the most temporary buildings in Ponyville. Scootaloo took a cautious look around the base of the barn, checking for any weaknesses in the structure. Finding none, she entered.

Sweetie Belle sat among thousands of test tubes and beakers. A strange green liquid bubbled from one glass jar, while purple liquid dripped into a large vial. The unicorn cleaned her glasses with a damp cloth. “Scootaloo. Welcome to the madhouse.”

Scootaloo laughed as she walked between two overhead pipes that were connected by a glass orb. An apple seed resided inside. “Mad science house, you mean! Apple Bloom, when’d you add this doohickey?”

“Been workin’ on it for a while.” Apple Bloom walked around Sweetie Belle and pulled on a white lab coat. She passed another coat to Sweetie, and a third to Scootaloo. “Put these on. Ah ain’t gonna be blamed when one o’ these potions dies yer coat brown. And don’t forget the goggles.”

Apple Bloom placed a potted daisy on a desk poured a drip of yellow potion on it. The daisy’s petals shifted from white to green. “Just a little too much salt.”

Sweetie Belle stared at a glass case that was half-full of water. Instead of soil, a plant’s roots grew through the liquid. The plant had a single bulb exposed to the air. “What a peculiar plant.”

The bulb opened up, revealing two rows of carnivorous teeth. The roots wriggled beneath the water. Sweetie screamed as she retreated backwards.

Apple Bloom caught her in her strong forelegs. “Settle down, it only eats bugs!”

“Why,” Sweetie gasped, “do you have that thing in your workshop!?”

“Workin’ on somethin’ special for Thunderlane.” Apple Bloom set Sweetie down and turned back to the daisy. “His cloudhouse is infested with anansi, so ah’ve been tryin’ to get a breed of those things that can grow in clouds. They’ll eat those flyin’ spiders sure ’nuff.”

Scootaloo tapped the tank. The plant closed its bud and retreated to the far side. “Cool. What’s it called?”

“Serramuscipula,” Apple Bloom said. “Commonly known as the piranha plant.”

Sweetie Belle narrowed her eyes. “Do you have anything else carnivorous living in your barn, Apple Bloom dear?”

“There’s Walter and Wilbur.” Apple Bloom grinned. “But they’re just puppies.”

She trotted up to a chalkboard and flipped it over. It had a crude drawing of a pegasus. “Here’s our issue,” Apple Bloom said. “Scootaloo here wants to fly.” She drew an arrow pointing up. “But she can’t.” She crossed out the arrow. “So our task here is tah make her fly.”

She turned towards Sweetie and Scootaloo. “Any ideas?”

Sweetie rolled her eyes and snatched Apple Bloom’s chalk in her telekinesis. “Very nice visual aid, Apple Bloom. Very detailed.”

Apple Bloom shut her eyes and smiled. “Ah’m gonna go ahead an’ pretend that compliment was sincere.”

“Let’s see what we know,” Sweetie Belle said. “We know Scootaloo can jump.” She wrote the note down. “We know she can hover about a meter or so above the ground.”

Apple Bloom yanked the chalk out of Sweetie’s grip. “Let’s see what we know ain’t true. It ain’t true that Scootaloo’s wings are weak.”

Scootaloo did a few wing-ups on two wings, and then did a couple on just one. “Check.”

Sweetie pulled the chalk back to her, glared at it, and snapped it in half. She handed the smaller half to Apple Bloom. “We know that she is not lacking in magic ability.”

Scootaloo stuck her hoof in the tank. She avoided the piranha plant and scooped out a hoof-full of water. The surface tension held as she raised the blob. “Double check.”

“Okay, quit showin’ off.” Apple Bloom scribbled on the chalkboard. “Ah guess that leaves technique, which you ought to know a thing or two about, and gravity.” She turned around and pointed the chalk at Scootaloo. “Ah think yah might be too heavy to fly.”

Scootaloo tilted her head. She blinked. She tilted her head the other way. “What.”

“Now hear me out.” Apple Bloom licked her lips as she tried to form words. “What if you’re half-earth pony?”

“When has that ever—ever—mattered?” Sweetie Belle shook her head. She shook her head again. “Have you seen the Cakes? Have you seen Dinky and Derpy? I’m almost sure I’m one-tenth pegasus. That doesn’t have anything to do with my magic ability.”

“Okay! Okay, don’t go bitin’ mah head off.” Apple Bloom turned to Scootaloo, who was still staring with disbelief. “Ah just wondered if maybe yer earth pony heritage had something to do with bein’ too heavy to fly. It might explain how you can only fly a meter up.”

“But that’s the thing, it doesn’t strain my wings.” Scootaloo shrugged. “My body feels tired, but my wings could go forever.”

“Shut up an’ let me help you.” Apple Bloom walked back to the daisy. The green color had faded from its petals. She brought out a new potion, one slightly less yellow, and placed a drop on the flower.

The flower rose into the air, taking the pot with it.

“What.” Sweetie Belle ran to the floating flower and waved a hoof underneath it. “What?” She waved a hoof over it. “What!”

“It’s part of mah work on the piranha plant,” Apple Bloom said. “Makin’ plants float. Almost fly.” She winked at Scootaloo. “An’ it works on chickens.”

Scootaloo leaned back. She scrunched her muzzle up with a grimace. “You went there.”

“Huh? What?” Apple Bloom’s eyes widened. “No! No! Ah just mean that ah’d tested the formula on animals an’ it works! Ah used chickens ’cause they’re gonna be sold tah Fabio anyhow, and nopony cares if’n they’re poisoned to death!”

Scootaloo crossed her forelegs. “And they just had to be chickens, didn’t they?”

“Oh for pony’s sake, that was almost ten years ago!” Sweetie shouted. “Give. It. Up.”

Scootaloo scrunched her face up. Despite her best efforts, a snort escaped. The snort was followed by more laughter, louder and longer. Apple Bloom joined in soon after, with Sweetie being the last holdout. The unicorn sat back and watched her friends descend into hysterics.

“Are you done yet?” she asked. “We have a harebrained scheme to try out.”

“Yeah…” Scootaloo took a few deep breaths in. “Yeah, I guess, but…” She brushed her mane back and walked over to Apple Bloom. “But it isn’t really flying.”

“No, but it’s a help. Maybe if you can get off the ground…” Apple Bloom sat down with a thump. “It didn’t poison the… birds, so ah thought maybe it’d work for you. Effects wear out quick anyhow, so what would it hurt to try?”

Scootaloo cracked her neck. “Well, anything to give my fairy strings a little boost.”

“That’s the spirit!” Apple Bloom bounced over to her work desk. “Now, let’s see… mass o’ the chickens, multiplied, carry that one… Got ya.” She poured out a specific measurement and handed the glass to Scootaloo. “Go ahead, chug it.”

Scootaloo raised the glass to Sweetie Belle. “To flight.”

Sweetie and Apple Bloom nodded. “To flight!”

Scootaloo chugged the potion and closed her eyes. She felt a slight tingle in her stomach. “Tastes like tea. Green tea. Weird.”

She turned her head and looked Apple Bloom in the eye. “How long until it starts working?”

“Um.” Apple Bloom smirked. “How’s ‘five seconds ago’ grab yah?”

“Huh.” Scootaloo looked down to where her legs were dangling above the dirt floor. “Well.”

“Ah. It does work.” Sweetie Belle smiled. She caught Apple Bloom’s sideways glance. “Not that I thought it wouldn’t.”

“So try it out, Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom said. “Flap them wings o’ yours!”

Scootaloo flapped her wings. They flew by in a whir, propelling her around. She grinned maybe the widest smile of her entire life. “I don’t believe it! I’m flying! I’m flying!”

And so, Scootaloo buzzed around the barn at a speed slightly faster than a slug.

Sweetie Belle lifted an eyebrow. “You know, I actually think a tortoise would outpace her at this point.”

“Tank’s got that whirly-copter thingy, so…” Apple Bloom waved up. “Hay, Scoots, what’s with the drag?”

“I dunno.” Scootaloo slowed her flapping. “I’m moving them exactly like Rainbow Dash showed me how…” She looked up at the rapidly-approaching ceiling. “Hay, Bloom, when do I stop going up?”

“Um…” Apple Bloom flipped through a notebook. “Um. Until yer buoyancy matches the gravity pullin’ on yah, ah guess.”

Scootaloo’s back hit the wooden rafters. “Ow!” She floated past the boards and towards the ceiling.

“Way to go, Science Mare,” Sweetie Belle said. “You’ve made the first balloon pony. Pinkie will be thrilled.”

“Hush up or start helpin’.” Apple Bloom looked up at Scootaloo. “You okay, Scoots?”

“Fine.” Scootaloo rested against the ceiling with her wings and legs spread. “Just layin’ here. Passing the time with a song or something. No big, no hurry, no problem.”

Apple Bloom sat back and blew a sigh through her nose. “Toss her a rope so we can pull her down, Sweetie. We don’t want her goin’ ‘splat’ when that stuff wears off.”

Sweetie trotted off with her head high and her tail hiked.

“Hay, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo said from the ceiling. “Feels like I was just on your roof.”

“Hah.”

“So, hay, when does this stuff wear off, anyway?”

“With how much you drank…”

“Ahuh?”

“Three hours.”

“Hay, Apple Bloom. Your idea? Sucked.”

“Yeah, thanks. Ah kinda guessed.”

“Both of them did.”

“Look, ah’m sorry—”

“Maybe we can combine them next. I can drink your balloon juice and then grasshopper jump. I’ll probably make it to the stratosphere before I suffocate.”

“Don’t call it balloon juice.”

“I like the name. Just made it up.”

“It sounds nasty.”

“It just means ‘hot air.’” Scootaloo glared down. “Which is all your dumb plans are!”

Sweetie Belle walked slowly into their midst. She saw Apple Bloom hunched over and sitting with her back to the roof as much as possible. Scootaloo, too, had rolled over until her belly was pressed against the ceiling.

Sweetie sighed and floated one end of the rope up to Scootaloo. “This is gonna be a long day, isn’t it?”

I Don’t Even Really Know What I Expect

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Scootaloo’s scooter was right where she left it, parked outside the Crusader Clubhouse. She climbed aboard and returned to the barn, where Apple Bloom was pulling a two-wheeled, open-air carriage towards Sweet Apple Acres’ entrance. They attached the cart to the scooter, tested the connections, and climbed aboard their respective seats.

“So whose house are we leaving the Scootsmobile at this time?” Apple Bloom said. She leaned her elbow on the armrest.

“Not mine,” Sweetie said. “I had this parked next to my shop for two weeks last time. It’s a nice, cart, Apple Bloom, your craftsponyship is extraordinary… but it just doesn’t go with my decor.”

“I’d say take it back to the Acres”—Scootaloo gave her wings an experimental flap—“but that would mean lugging it back.”

“Naw, we could just hitch me up.” Apple Bloom waved a hoof, her eyes on something in the distance. “Ah wouldn’t even notice the weight.”

Scootaloo tilted her head and gnawed on her lower lip. “Eh, it’s fine at my place. For a little while, anyway. We’ll park it in the alley out back.”

“Now that we’ve got that settled,” Sweetie Belle said, “to home, Scootaloo.”

Scootaloo saluted, strapped her helmet over her head, and buzzed down the road. She felt the magic of the pegasi flowing through her body, sucking in the wind and pulling it past her. The cart bounced on the rocky, pitted path leading away from the farm.

“I would have thought,” Sweetie said, “that in her grand scheme to fix Ponyville’s roads, Applejack would have taken a second look at her own!”

“It’s a three-year plan,” Apple Bloom said. “First year was the main roads, this year we’re doing the rest in town, next year she’ll deal with the ones that head out into the country.”

“She can take as long as she wants,” Scootaloo mumbled under the wind, casting a glance at her favorite jump.

Sweetie grunted as a particularly-deep pothole bumped the cart and bruised her rump.

“Or not,” Scootaloo said.

The trip to Carousel Boutique was quick and uneventful. Most ponies in town were indoors; entertaining visitors, spending a relaxing moment reading, or napping the afternoon away. They slid the carriage behind Quills and Sofas and trotted the short distance to Sweetie’s home and shop.

Little had changed for the two-story store in the years since Rarity moved out. There was the new ringing bell cutie mark symbol above the door, and there was a subtle shift from Rarity’s purple to Sweetie’s pink and lavender in the decorations. The first room was the biggest: The showroom. There were oodles of ponnequins dressed in finery of only the best quality. Most were light pastels for summer colors, and thin, airy fabrics to keep cool. A circle of couches sat off to the side, surrounding a table covered with fashion magazines.

Most of which had Rarity’s face on them.

“Why don’t you girls head for the sitting room while I brew up something nice?” Sweetie Belle said. “Tea? Coffee? Maybe a little splash of cider?”

“I’ll take that cider, thanks,” Scootaloo said. She walked towards the back of the showroom.

“Coffee,” Apple Bloom said. After a moment’s thought, she added, “three lumps.”

Sweetie smirked. “Three lumps and a cider coming up. Try not to give each other lumps while I’m gone, okay?”

Scootaloo stirred up the coals in the fireplace. They were pretty cold, but a few puffs of the bellows and a little extra fuel brought a crackling fire to life pretty quick. She sat in a plush chair and stared into the flames.

Apple Bloom reclined on a couch. She undid her pink ribbon and let her mane flow free. “Sorry that the plans didn’t work out right.”

Scootaloo hunched down in the chair. “I’m sorry, too. It wasn’t fair of me to snap.”

“You were stressed. And stuck to the ceiling.” Apple Bloom chuckled. “Ah can’t really blame yah.”

Scootaloo smiled. “We’re gonna be laughing about it a couple days from now.”

“Eeyup,” Apple Bloom said. She pursed her lips like she was tasting a strange food. “Eeyup.”

They watched the fire burn until Sweetie Belle entered. She carried a tray with three mugs, and set them before the other ponies. “It’ll be good to just sit and rest for a while. You guys okay with that?”

“I ain’t complaining,” Scootaloo said. “I’ll probably be thinking of new ways to fly.”

“Ah had a thought about that,” Apple Bloom said.

Sweetie sighed. “Perhaps we should save additional plots for—”

“It ain’t a scheme.” Apple Bloom shifted to the side so that Sweetie Belle could sit next to her. “It’s a thought. Scootaloo, ah was watching you scoot, and you were breezin’ along just fine.”

“Yeah?” Scootaloo peered over the armrest. “What about it? I always scoot when I’m scooting.”

Apple Bloom laid her head on the back of the couch. “So why were you putterin’ about at a snail’s pace when you drank the balloon juice?”

Scootaloo pointed a hoof. “I knew you’d come around to my way of thinking.”

“Hush up and talk tah me.” Apple Bloom blinked. “Aw, you know what ah mean. Why’d that happen?”

“Relaxing, now,” Sweetie said. “Just laying here and relaxing. La, la, la. Not a care in the world.”

“I dunno.” Scootaloo rolled onto her back and kicked her hind legs into the air. “I didn’t think about it. I just flap my wings and away I go.”

“An’ after you drank the potion, ‘away you stay.’” Apple Bloom propped her cheek on her hoof. “That ain’t right a’tall.”

Sweetie sighed. “Have you considered that there might be something wrong with your wings? Something with their fairy strings, or with the magic flow?”

Scootaloo shrugged. “I go for a physical checkup every year, but they haven’t found anything.”

“Have they looked?” Sweetie folded up her glasses and set them on a coffee table. “You’ll forgive me saying a physical for a filly is anything but comprehensive.”

“You know how she found her cutie mark, Sweetie,” Apple Bloom said. “You know she couldn’t have done that with bad fairy strings.”

“Great, yes, awesome.” Sweetie crossed her forelegs. “But she can’t fly.”

Scootaloo pressed her chin to her chest. She watched the flames leap and dance. “Yet.”

Sweetie made a ‘tisk’ sound. “Well, yes, that’s what I meant to say.”

Scootaloo tapped her hooves together. “On that note, though. Apple Bloom, what do you know about ambrosia?”

Scootaloo popped her head above the chair. She could see Sweetie giving her the evil eye, but she responded with a reassuring wink. She waited for Apple Bloom to say something.

“Ah guess Applejack got prescribed some durin’ that whole Smooze attack…” Apple Bloom rubbed her nose. “It’s a potion, but one that only the breezies know how to brew.”

“It’s called a cure-all, but it isn’t,” Sweetie Belle said. “They prescribe it in milliliters because anything more will kill you.”

“Whoa,” Apple Bloom said. “Really? How?”

“Ambrosia’s greatest strength is that it causes rapid cellular growth,” Sweetie Belle looked Scootaloo right in the eye. “That same growth could be detrimental if used in the wrong part of the body. What would happen if your blood cells started multiplying out of control?”

Apple Bloom shrugged. “Increased pulse? High blood pressure?”

Sweetie Belle rubbed her face. “Think about it, Apple Bloom. Blood clots at best, burst vessels at worst. The whole point of ambrosia is that it throws your cellular reproduction into a frenzy. That’s why it healed your sister’s broken leg so quickly.”

Apple Bloom’s ears dipped down. “How come you know so much about it?”

Sweetie grimaced. “A lady must keep up with the times.”

Scootaloo shook her head. She mouthed “really?”

Sweetie ignored her with a yawn. “Whatever. Resting now. I’ll wake up in a couple hours and fix supper.”

After a moment, her soft snores reached Scootaloo’s ears. The pegasus curled up in the seat of the chair and covered her body with her wings.

“You asleep yet, Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Nah. Thinking too much.” Scootaloo frowned. “Thanks for all your help, Apple Bloom. I appreciate it.”

“Yer welcome.” Apple Bloom stood up to add another log to the fire. “Anythin’ for a friend.”

“So between Applejack, Big Mac, and Cheerilee, they managed to get the wall standin’ upright. And there ah was, left holdin’ the baby.” Apple Bloom shook her head. “Cheerilee’s a hard worker an’ all, but that weren’t the job she was built for.”

“And everypony just conveniently forgot you were the resident carpenter, huh?” Scootaloo took a bite of her house salad. The cucumbers were as crisp as if they’d been picked that day.

“Big Mac wanted to be the one tah build his own house. Cheerilee wanted to help, so she gave me the baby. Applejack couldn’t be turned away, no matter how much she and Mac argued.” Apple Bloom shrugged. “Ah figured ah’d play peek-a-boo with Cinnamon and try to ignore the sound of wood bustin’.”

“Ah yes, the inimitable stubbornness of the Apple Clan. Such a staple of Ponyville.” Sweetie Belle set a steaming portion of corn on the cob before each of them. “Butter it while it’s hot, girls.”

Apple Bloom slathered butter on top of her cob. She shook salt and pepper on it for good measure. “Ah love ’em dearly, but sometimes…”

Scootaloo spread the butter evenly across the cob. She took a large bite and smiled. “Mm!”

“Great spread you got here, Sweetie. Thank a lot,” Apple Bloom said.

“My pleasure.” Sweetie took a seat at the head of the table after removing her frilly apron. She took a deep sniff. “Ah, the sweet smell of success.”

Scootaloo munched on a slice of watermelon. “So they got the cottage set up?”

“Yep, it’s there on the south field. Just three rooms, one for them, one for the baby, and one bathroom.” Apple Bloom cringed. “Ah am so glad we stopped usin’ outhouses. So, so glad.”

“Table manners, please,” Sweetie said. “We needn’t speak of such things during dinner.”

“I’m with Sweetie on this,” Scootaloo said. “It’s kinda creepy the way you worship indoor plumbing.”

“You would too if’n you got splinters every time you—”

“Can it!” Sweetie said. “Honestly!”

Apple Bloom stuffed her mouth full of lettuce. The meal continued in silence until their plates were nearly clear.

“So is the house quiet without Big Mac?” Scootaloo asked. “Or would it even be that noticeable?”

“Quiet. Not so different.” Apple Bloom tapped a hoof against the floor. She hunched over and grabbed a roll from the middle of the table. “More like big an’ empty, ’cept when we’re all together durin’ meals.”

She fiddled with the fork she hadn’t used all evening. “Ah wanna move out. Into town.”

Scootaloo leaned forward. “Really? Why?”

“To open mah own shop. Sell potions and offer handiwork. That kinda thing.” Apple Bloom nibbled the roll. “Just wanna do mah own thing.”

“That’s admirable,” Sweetie said. “I believe you could really go places with just the right business hook.”

“Yeah, totally!” Scootaloo pushed herself off the seat, her wings buzzing. “We’ll be right there with you to set it up! When’re you starting?”

“Easy, easy!” Apple Bloom waved her hooves. “It’s gonna be a solid two years at least.”

Sweetie Belle raised an eyebrow. “Not that I don’t approve of planning ahead, but what’s stopping you from doing it now?”

“Mostly?” Apple Bloom said. “The farm.”

She brushed a lock of her mane over her shoulder. “Thing is, it takes at least two ponies in the field to keep the farm goin’, an’ like ah said, this ain’t what Cheerilee’s built for. When Applejack’s out doin’ her lord mayor thing, me an’ Big Mac are keepin’ things runnin’ smooth.”

Scootaloo nodded. “So when Applejack’s done with her term…”

“As soon as she loses the reelection, if she even tries for it”—Apple Bloom snorted—“and she’s back on the farm, ah’m outta there.”

Sweetie Belle drooped in her seat. “I guess if the farm doesn’t hold much for you…”

Apple Bloom stared at her plate. She spun it with her hoof. She lifted her head and looked Sweetie in the eye. She did the same for Scootaloo.

“Ah dunno, guys. After Granny Smith passed away, all the magic went out of it.”

She sipped at her coffee. “So ah guess ah’m just stickin’ around ’cause they need me. ’Cause it’s the right thing to do.”

“Have you told Applejack?” Scootaloo asked. “Or Big Mac?”

Apple Bloom turned her eyes to the floor. “Nah. Ah’ll tell ’em when it’s important.”

“Come on, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie said. “You know there’s a difference between important and urgent.”

“Fine.” Apple Bloom stood up and started to carry her dishes to the sink. “Ah’ll tell ’em when it’s too late for them to say no.”

“Like they can actually say no,” Scootaloo said. She pushed her chair back and followed Apple Bloom. “You’re an adult in almost every possible way.”

“’Cept the ones that count.” Apple Bloom tapped Scootaloo’s nose. “Ain’t got no home of mah own, ain’t got a job of mah own, and ah get the feelin’ Applejack would nearly drop dead with a heart attack if’n ah came home with somepony.”

Scootaloo pouted. “Maybe those things don’t count as much as you think.”

Apple Bloom squinted one eye. “Oh yeah? What does?”

“You’re respected, I know.” Scootaloo balanced her plates on her wings, causing Sweetie to cringe. “Ask anypony in town, they’ll say they would trust you with just about anything.”

“Step one to bein’ an adult: Have everypony in town want a favor from yah,” Apple Bloom said with a grin.

“Pretty much. But that’s the thing, you’re good for your word.” Scootaloo thumped her hoof on Apple Bloom’s back. “You’re an adult where it counts.”

“Let me know when you publish that particular self-help book, Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle said. She turned on the warm water in her sink and started to get the plates sudsy. “I’ll be happy to buy a copy.”

“Ha.” Scootaloo turned back to Apple Bloom. “You wanna know what I think?”

Apple Bloom took a towel and dried off a plate. “Could ah stop you if ah tried?”

“Any dummy can move out,” Scootaloo said, “but an adult can tell if the time’s right or not.”

“‘Any dummy’, huh?” Apple Bloom laughed. “What do you think, Sweetie Belle?”

“I think we’re all adults,” Sweetie said as she scrubbed a pan. “The question is, ‘Are we going to act like it?’”

She handed Scootaloo the pan. “Now help me put these away, please.”

Scootaloo waited by the lake. She kicked at a patch of grass as she watched the sun lower into the horizon. The sky seemed to explode with fire, just as it did every night. Orange and yellow, purple and blue.

Her ears dipped down as she cast her glance around. No sign of Rumble anywhere. This was the usual meeting spot for their circle of friends in the town, but maybe the wires had gotten crossed somewhere. Maybe he was waiting at Sugarcube Corner, which would be stupid since they were closed on Sunday. Maybe he was waiting at her house, still under interrogation from her father.

Yeah, no, he was probably still just working on his odd jobs.

Scootaloo looked at the lake. It was clear and smooth, reflecting the sky as perfectly as a mirror. She saw herself, with her orange coat slightly ruffled and her purple mane just that little bit off. She didn’t care too much. She’d already been pretty that day. It was time to relax.

She sat down and let her eyes run around the edge of the lake. It was almost the perfect time of the evening. The twilight where there was just enough sun to sparkle.

She stepped onto the water as the sun dipped below the hills. She held her hoof there, pushing against the lake as her pegasus magic linked with it. A moment later, she set another hoof on the water. She walked forward slowly, and the water plinked each time she lifted a leg.

Scootaloo stood in the center of the lake, her eyes closed. She took a deep breath in, and let it out calmly. Her heart slowed to a steady, quiet beat. She swayed to that beat. She hummed a slow, quiet tune.

She lifted her right hoof in a slow arc. It trailed tiny beads of water. The hoof returned to the surface, but the droplets did not. She did the same with her left hoof, and then went back to the first. Soon, she was surrounded by a small cloud of water droplets. She opened her eyes, scrutinized her handiwork, and grinned.

She shifted her hooves as her humming quickened. It was a waltz, and she moved with the one, two, three of the song. After a moment, the droplets followed suit, bouncing in the air and revolving around her body. They moved as one, directed by the magic flowing from her.

Some would shine with orange light as they moved before the sunset. Some would glow blue as they reflected the coming night. With a flick of her tail, they shifted into rows. One row would spin clockwise, the next down would spin counterclockwise, and so on down to the lake surface.

Scootaloo leaped.

Her hooves splashed a wave which froze in the air, suspended by her will. Another splash completed the circle around her. The droplets zipped around, over, and through the walls of water. The orange finally disappeared completely, replaced instead by the silvery light of the moon and stars. Scootaloo directed her own dancing stars on the lake surface, hopping and leaping and swaying and sweeping.

All the droplets slowed. The waves sank beneath the surface, which was once again as clear as a mirror. Scootaloo hadn’t caused a single tremor on the water’s surface. The droplets stopped. They hung in the air until, one by one, she released them back into the lake.

She spread her wings and took a bow.

A steady “thump, thump, thump” came from the shore. Rumble’s wings flapped slowly and eavenly. He applauded with a grin. “Bravo!” he called. “Encore!”

“Did yah like that one?” Scootaloo asked. She trotted across the lake, each hoof-step leaving a single ripple in the water. “Maybe next time you can join in.”

Rumble licked the corner of his mouth. “I don’t think walking on water is in my skill set.”

“Yeah, right.” Scootaloo stopped just offshore and crossed her legs. “Any pegasus could do this with enough practice.”

“And yet”—Rumble dipped a hoof in the lake—“you’re the first.”

“That we know of.” Scootaloo shrugged. “I haven’t actually asked Celestia if she knew a pony.”

“Alrighty. Effectively the first.” Rumble brushed his mane back. “So…”

“I hear my dad was gonna talk with you,” Scootaloo said. She flicked a few drops of water into the air and watched them hover around her hoof. “What’d he say?”

“There was the usual, ‘Hurt my daughter and I’m gonna—’ speech.” Rumble extended his wings. “There was something about curfews and places that were not acceptable for a date. Apparently we’re not supposed to head to Las Pegasus to elope.”

“Yeah, that’s what he tells all the colts that follow me home.” She conjured a ball of water and bounced it between her hooves. She grinned. “I assume you agreed to his terms?”

“Heck yeah.” Rumble sat down. “Which leaves another question.”

Scootaloo paused with the blob of water balanced on her rear-left leg. “Whazzat?”

“When I asked if you wanted to go to the movies with me, I got the really hypocritical answer of ‘Maybe’.” He shifted his shoulders. “So, what do you think now?”

Scootaloo flicked the ball into the air. It came to a rest on the tip of her nose. “Okay.”

Rumble smirked. “Just ‘okay’?”

“Well, I figure I’m going to the movie anyway.” She slurped up the water ball and swished it around in her mouth. She smiled with bulging cheeks at Rumble, who stared at her with level eyebrows.

She swallowed. “Whadda yah want? Me to leap into your embrace and declare you my soul mate?”

“No!” Rumble said. “No. It’s just a little… anticlimactic.”

Scootaloo shook moisture off her wings. “Dunno if I can help with that. It’s not like me agreeing to one date is gonna be world-shattering.”

“No. I don’t think it’s supposed to be.” Rumble looked up at the moon. “And maybe it shouldn’t be.”

Scootaloo took a few steps closer, a small smile on her face. “But it is exciting.”

“Yeah?” Rumble laughed. “That’s not just me, huh?”

“Yeah. I know I can have fun with you.” Scootaloo ran her hoof across the surface of the lake. Ripples spread out from beneath her. “I mean, we’re practically best friends.”

Rumble stood up and stretched. “You don’t think that’ll make this awkward?”

“That’s… well… maybe a little.”

Both Scootaloo and Rumble shuffled around in silence for a moment.

“But I could try to overlook it,” Scootaloo said. “See where this goes.”

“I don’t think I could ask for better.” Rumble laughed. “As a matter of fact, I know I can’t ask for better. You can’t ask for better than the best.”

“What if you’ve found something you know is better than what ponies think is the best?” Scootaloo asked.

“Well…” Rumble smiled. “I guess I show them the new best.”

“What if you can’t do the best?” Scootaloo said. She stepped onto the shore and wiped her hooves off in the grass.

“Well…” Rumble shook his head. “I don’t know. What if you can’t?”

Scootaloo puffed her chest out and flared her wings. “I would show them my best.”

Rumble tapped a hoof against his chin. “Is that a Rainbow Dash-ism?”

“Yup. Get used to it, dude.”

“Alright.” Rumble folded his wings against his body. “So what day are we gonna see the movie? It opens tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna be spending most of the day working at Sweet Apple Acres. Mom and Dad will want me home for supper.” Scootaloo paced next to Rumble. “The next day—”

“Spike and I are mowing most of the lawns in Equestria.” Rumble chuckled. “Or at least Ponyville. That’ll be an all-day sucker, right there.”

Scootaloo tilted her head back. “Wednesday I’m gonna be working during the day, and babysitting at night.”

“Thursday?” Rumble took to the air and hovered around her. “Does the Thursday evening show sound good to you?”

Scootaloo flapped her wings as hard as she could. She rose into the air inch by inch until she was floating nose-to-nose with Rumble. “Thursday sounds great.”

Rumble backed off, looking her up and down. “Whoa. When did you start doing that?”

“It’s been a few years, now.” Scootaloo plopped back on the ground. “That’s about all I can get out of it, though.”

“Huh.” Rumble landed next to her. He looked closely at her wings. “Hay, if you ever need some help learning to fly—”

“And you don’t happen to be working?” Scootaloo blew her curl out of her face.

“Well, um…” Rumble blushed. “Ouch.”

“Cool it, I’m just teasing.” She punched his shoulder. “So, Thursday it is, huh?”

“Yup.” Rumble lifted his hoof and floundered for a bit. “Pick you up at four-thirty? We’ll get a bite to eat before or after, depending on the show time?”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo bumped his hoof. “See you then.”

“Yeah,” Rumble said. “See yah.”

She trotted off, her face a deep reddish-orange. She looked back over her shoulder and saw Rumble looking at her from up in the sky. She smiled, and he smiled back.

“Okay,” she muttered to herself. “Not a bad start.”

She opened the door to Quills and Sofas around ten-o’-clock. It was a little later than she had planned, but sunset was late in the summer. She yawned and folded up her scooter, clicking the handlebar into place across the base. She spun a wheel and smiled.

“How’d it go with Rumble?” Roseluck said.

Scootaloo looked across the showroom floor to see her mom resting in one of the couches. A book was propped up in her hooves, a new gardening book about tasty herbs being imported from Zebrabwe, Giraffrica. She looked to be about halfway through, if she was reading cover to cover. She always did.

“Hay, Mom,” Scootaloo said. “Pretty good. He’s picking me up at four-thirty Thursday.”

Roseluck nodded. “And?”

“And that’s pretty much it.” Scootaloo slung her scooter over her shoulder and walked closer to her mother. “I mean, we really haven’t done anything different. We’re both fighting our own schedules just to get this thing started.”

Roseluck set the book down. “And what is ‘this thing’?”

“I dunno, a chance?” Scootaloo sat next to her mother, her brow furrowing. “A start? Maybe something that can grow?”

Roseluck winced. “I don’t want this to end up like L—”

“Lickety Split was an idiot.” Scootaloo pushed her scooter to the floor, where it clattered. “Rumble isn’t an idiot, at least.”

“Honey,” Roseluck said, “do you think he’s sure about this? Have you talked about what you both hope to get?”

“We’ve hardly talked at all!” Scootaloo said, a little louder than she wanted. She tried again, quieter this time. “All I know is that I tried to make sure he was sure. That he was sure he wanted to date me.”

Roseluck looked away. “Do you know what he expects?”

“Yy—” Scootaloo wrapped her wings around her body. “Nn—I don’t even really know what I expect.”

Roseluck chewed on her lip. “That’s something you’ll need to think about.”

“I know, Mom. I know.” Scootaloo glared at the ceiling. “I know, okay? I do. It’s just—”

Scootaloo rolled over to face her mother. Roseluck wouldn’t meet her eye. “Can’t I just let it grow naturally without trying to force anything?”

“It isn’t about forcing anything,” Roseluck said. Her hooves shook and her voice trembled. “It’s about setting boundaries, and knowing where they’re at, and not crossing them, and—”

“Chill, Mom.” Scootaloo rested her hoof on her mom’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Nothing bad is gonna happen. We’re gonna have fun and just hang out. That’s where we’re at right now.”

Roseluck’s eyes flicked to Scootaloo, and then back to the floor. A tear dripped down her cheek. “Just be careful.”

“I will.” Scootaloo folded her wings up and reached for her scooter. “You know Rumble, Mom. He’s a cool guy. A good guy. He’s not gonna just—” She shook her head. “We’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want you—” Roseluck choked. “I don’t want you hurt again.”

“And Rumble is definitely not gonna steal my first kiss and spend the next night sucking another girl’s lips off,” Scootaloo hissed. “He knows better. He is better.”

Roseluck sobbed. She buried her face in her hooves and rocked on the couch. Scootaloo hesitated.

She looked up to see her dad at the foot of the staircase. He walked over to the couch, sat beside Roseluck, and wrapped her up in a hug. Scootaloo watched them quietly before climbing onto the back of the couch and spreading her wings over the both of them. She waited until her mom’s sobs became slow breathing, then hopped off the back of the couch and headed for the stairs.

She shut the door to her bedroom and leaned against the mirror. She wiped her nose and snuffed. She stared at the floor, running her hoof through the carpet. “Sorry, Mom.”

She looked up as the moon passed in front of her bedroom window. The shining moonbeams lit her room, removing any color besides gray and silver. Her eyes fell on the now-monochromatic Rainbow Dash poster in the center of the wall. She examined the sleek body, the spread wings, the daring smile.

“Keep being awesome, Squirt.”

She stood up. She went to her desk and flicked her lantern. The fireflies inside came awake one by one. When her room was lit like daylight, she picked up a pencil and wrote.

Hi Rainbow Dash,

Sometimes I can feel like such a jerk. I made my mom cry again. She’s so sensitive, so why can’t I just keep my smart remarks to myself? It’s like, “Blam! Scootaloo’s mouth ran away from her again!” I can’t even say sorry because she’ll only cry harder.

Worst part might be why. Rumble asked me on a date. Rumble! Can you believe it? We’ve been friends for years, and now he wants to date. What. The. Heck. I said yes, of course, there’s no reason not to. And pretty much every reason to. But when my mom tried to tell me to be careful, I got snippy and said he wasn’t Lickety Split.

Remember Split? Of course you do. You and Dad hung him from City Hall’s flagpole. Good times.

I knew what she was worried about. Why’d I have to throw it in her face?

Scootaloo looked over the letter. She crumpled it up and tossed it into the waste bin.

Hi Rainbow Dash,

Thank you for the tickets! I’m gonna see the movie later this week, and for sure when you stop by. I hope all my friends can go together, but with all our schedules being different, it’s getting crazy.

Not flying yet, but I’ve drafted Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom to be my personal trainers. It’s like old times for the Cutie Mark Crusaders. We’re gonna try everything we can until something works! Don’t worry, the town’s still standing.

See you when you get back!

Scootaloo

Scootaloo leaned back. The fireflies were starting to go back to sleep, and the room dimmed. She pulled the other letter out of the garbage and smoothed it out. She put both letters into an envelope, but not before adding P.S. I didn’t really know which letter to send, so I’ll send them both. Sorry about the drama. You’re the coolest.

She licked the envelope closed and stuck a stamp in the corner. She let the fireflies flicker out, pulled the covers off of her bed, and lay down for what was sure to be a short night.

Got it Right the First Time

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“You okay, Rainbow Dash?” Scootaloo said. She looked down at her honorary sister, who was lying on her back in the middle of the street. A scooter rolled a few additional meters down the road, until a pothole stopped it in its tracks.

“Yeeeaaahhh?” Rainbow Dash lifted her head. Her helmet hung low over her eyes. “What happened?”

“You…” Scootaloo covered her mouth. She stifled a giggle. “You used your wings to try to steer. Exactly what I told you not to do.”

Rainbow Dash looked at her wings. “Traitors.”

“The wind caught you and pulled you right off the ground. And then you flipped.” Scootaloo snorted. “It was awesome until you hit the ground.”

Rainbow Dash sat up and removed the helmet. She handed it to Scootaloo and stood up with halting, jerky movements. Her back cricked. “Yup. Just what I needed. I think I’ll leave the scooting to you, Squirt.”

“Hay, I don’t know.” Scootaloo hopped over to her scooter and climbed aboard. It was her new scooter, just given to her on her birthday. She’d outgrown the last one. “You could get good if you practiced and stuff.”

“I’d have to practice a whole heck of a lot, it looks like.” Rainbow Dash ruffled Scootaloo’s mane. “Especially if I wanted to get as good as you.”

Scootaloo leaned on the scooter’s handlebars and pushed herself along with one hoof as she followed Rainbow Dash through Ponyville. Rainbow was not performing her usual hover above the ground. Instead, she was walking at a slow, sedate pace.

“You know I can keep up,” Scootaloo said. “You don’t need to keep yourself grounded for my sake.”

“Yes I do,” Dash said with a twinkle in her eye. “Besides, you in a hurry?”

“Nah, I guess not.” Scootaloo flicked an ear. “But when are you not?”

Rainbow Dash faced forward. The steady clop, clop, clop of her footsteps missed a beat. “Today.”

“What’s today?”

“I get the acceptance and or rejection letter from the Wonderbolts’ Academy. Year two this time.”

Scootaloo’s wings fluttered. “That’s awesome! We should race right to your house right now to see if—”

“Relax, Scootaloo.” Rainbow Dash touched her shoulder with a wingtip. “I already know what it’s gonna say.”

“What?” Scootaloo halted her scooter. “Really?”

“After the showing I put out in the Equestria Games and the academy last year?” Rainbow Dash gave Scootaloo a trademark confident grin. “Oh yeah.”

Scootaloo smiled, through her ears drooped. “So you’re gonna be gone for a month. Again.”

“Yup.” Rainbow Dash’s grin slacked at the corners. “You’re gonna have to cover for me in the position of Ponyville’s most awesome pegasus.”

Scootaloo’s wings hung low. “I’m gonna miss you, you know.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” Rainbow Dash said.

They walked and rolled in quiet for most of the street. Scootaloo could see Rainbow Dash’s cloudhouse hanging above the outskirts of town. “Rumble discovered his cutie mark yesterday.”

“Really?” Rainbow Dash swished her shoulder-length mane. “How’d that happen?”

“Not sure. Saw him after the fact.” Scootaloo kept her gaze on the road. “It’s a flag. I asked him if it was a racing flag or something cool like that. He said no, it’s a standard.”

“A standard?” Rainbow Dash furrowed her brow. “What sort of flag is that?”

“Like… like the kind they have in the Royal Guard.” Scootaloo’s throat bobbed. “The kind they use to identify armies and stuff. A rally point.”

“Oh.” Rainbow Dash’s front hooves jumped. “Oh. Is he, uh, does he want to join up?”

“He said he’s thinking about it. I mean, he’s really young right now,” Scootaloo said in a quiet voice. “But he might not. I mean, you said that a cutie mark isn’t always about—about a talent.”

“Did you ask him what the mark meant?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Nn—yeah.” Scootaloo got off her scooter and walked beside it. “He said it’s a standard he wants to live by. To live up to.”

“Well, good for him.” Rainbow Dash nodded. Quietly, she added, “Good for him.”

“When he—if he goes…” Scootaloo dipped her head. “Nevermind.”

Rainbow Dash and Scootaloo stopped at the edge of the cloudhouse’s shadow. Rainbow wet her lips. “Hay, Scootaloo—”

“Yeah?”

“I’m not… I don’t mean to…” Rainbow Dash slapped her face. “Come on, brain, work with my mouth, here.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to make everything you say an inspirational speech, you know.”

Rainbow Dash glowered. “Right.” She looked at Scootaloo. “Okay, then. For real. You know I’m loyal, right?”

“Me and all of Equestria.” Scootaloo gave a weak laugh. She shifted her scooter back and forth with her rear leg. “Comes with the job description.”

“Yeah.” Rainbow Dash slipped a wing around Scootaloo’s shoulders. “So why do I get the sense you feel like you’re being abandoned? That shouldn’t happen when I’m around.”

Rainbow cringed. “I didn’t mean for that to sound like an ego-boost.”

“Well, what happens when you’re not around?” Scootaloo winced. “And that sounded like an accusation.”

Rainbow Dash bopped her head against Scootaloo’s. “Yeah, maybe we got issues. I just want you to know that I’m not abandoning you. I’ll always be there for you, just like all my friends. Maybe not right the second you need me, but pretty quick. Even if…”

“Even if you’re not physically present.” Scootaloo shuffled her hooves. “I know that in my head, but…”

“You gotta trust. That’s something you don’t wanna learn the hard way.” Rainbow Dash fluttered her wings. “Trust me on that.”

“There’s the inspirational speech I was waiting for,” Scootaloo giggled.

“Ha, ha.” Rainbow Dash looked up at her cloudhouse floating lazily in the air. Her ear flopped down. “Rumble isn’t abandoning you either. If he joins the service, it’s gonna be because he wants to protect you… and all his friends. His family.”

Scootaloo hung her helmet on the handlebars. “Yeah?”

Rainbow Dash slid her mailbox open and pulled out a white envelope. She spread her wings and gave them a stretch. “Different ponies join for different reasons, but that’s the sense I get from him.”

“Is that like a Pinkie Sense?” Scootaloo stood next to Rainbow Dash and copied her pose.

“Like a pony sense.” Rainbow Dash snickered. “I know I’m not the best judge of character, but some things speak louder to me.”

“Things about loyalty.”

“Yeah. Things about loyalty.”

Rainbow Dash flicker her mane, and Scootaloo understood it as the starting flag. They leaped up together, their wings buzzing, and both landed on the porch. Rainbow landed lightly, but Scootaloo stumbled. Dash reached out and caught her honorary sister. “Whoa! Take it easy, Squirt!”

Her ears perked up and she slapped the cloud. “Hay! Idea!”

She put both hooves on Scootaloo’s shoulders. “I know what we gotta do. When I’m gone.”

Scootaloo sucked in a small breath. “Yeah? What is it? What?”

“Pen pals,” Rainbow Dash said. “Like what me and Pinkie do. We’ll write each other what’s on our minds, and when we get a new letter, we respond to it in a new one.”

“I…” Scootaloo pressed her wings tight against her sides. “I’m not too good about putting things on paper…”

“So? It’s just me who’ll see them.” Rainbow Dash leaped into the air and hovered. “It’ll be like I’m there, even when I’m not. Heck, this way my inspirational speeches will be permanent.”

Scootaloo smiled. “Well… I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Darn right.” Rainbow handed the envelope to Scootaloo. “Return address, Wonderbolts HQ in Cloudsdale.” She covered her eyes. “You open it, Squirt. Did I get in? Am I shunned forever? Which is it?”

Scootaloo tore the envelope open. She read over the contents for a moment, before she danced on her hooves and squealed. “Got it right the first time, Dash!”

Scootaloo slapped a hoof down on her alarm clock. She considered ripping the little bells off the top and going back to sleep. Five minutes later, the bells rang again. She bumped her nightstand with a wing and knocked the clock to the floor. Her pillow followed it as she pried herself loose from the covers and felt around the carpet.

When she found the clock, she set it on her nightstand and disabled the alarm. She stumbled over to her dresser and grabbed a comb. She started to run it through her mane before she got to the mirror. She blinked as her eyes focused. “Good ’nuff.”

She threw the brush across the room, where it clattered against the wall. She ignored it and walked down the hall, down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

Her mom was munching on cereal. Roseluck looked up with her best friendly smile. “Good morning, Honey.”

“Mornin’.” Scootaloo focused her attention on making breakfast. She held a bowl in her hoof and slurped up the milk as she carried it back to her room. She shut the door and stuffed a few odds and ends into her saddlebags, including the letter to Rainbow Dash, as she ate.

“Like last night never happened, huh?” Scootaloo snorted as she strapped her bags around her middle and bit down on her toothbrush. “Yeah. Just keep that up, Mom. Keep it up.”

She threw her scooter over her back and skipped down the stairs. “Later!” she shouted as she made a beeline for the door. “Goin’ to the Acres!”

“Have a good day, Kid,” Davenport said.

“Hold on a sec, Honey!” Roseluck said. She held out the gardening book she’d been reading the previous night. “Would you mind returning this book on your way to or from work?”

Scootaloo’s eyes flickered between her mom’s face and the book. “Weren’t you only halfway done last night?”

“Well…” Roseluck’s ear twitched. “I’m a fast reader.”

Scootaloo snatched the book. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

“I’m fine, Scootaloo.” Her mother’s friendly smile came undone. “Really. Have a good day at work.”

Once she’d stuffed the book in her saddlebags and headed out the door, Scootaloo unfolded her scooter and sped off towards the farm.

Applejack passed her on the road. The mayor tilted her hat, and Scootaloo inclined her head. “Don’t get into too much trouble, Sugarcube,” Applejack said as she tightened her cravat.

“Yes ma’am, your Lordship,” Scootaloo said.

“Hush up, you.”

Scootaloo tied her scooter to Sweet Apple Acres’ entrance arch. She held herself tall as she marched towards the barn. Apple Bloom stuck her head out the door. “Hurry it up, Scoots! Big Mac is gonna split the chores up.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Scootaloo quickened her pace by a beat. “Is this the part where you finally teach me how to buck apples?”

Apple Bloom tilted her head. “It ain’t even fall. There’s still buds on the trees.”

“You and your fancy logic.” Scootaloo slid past Apple Bloom and jumped on a hay bale. “You guys should be bucking all year round!”

“Ah’d thank you kindly t’ get off mah wagon,” Big Mac drawled. The hay bale shifted beneath Scootaloo as it was carted further into the barn. “Yer a little pony, but ah’d appreciate you not makin’ mah work that much harder.”

Scootaloo hopped down and saluted. “Sure thing, Mister Big Macintosh, sir.”

Big Mac looked at her with level eyelids. The stalk of wheat in his mouth slid from side to side. “Come on, ah’ll tell yah what we’re doin’ today.”

The wagon’s wheels creaked as they rolled along. “We got us a right pretty mess of a barn. Paint needs touchin’ up, and a few boards need t’ be replaced. Old hay needs t’ be carted out, new hay”—he jerked a shoulder back towards his burden—“needs t’ be brought in.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Roof looks nice, though.”

He scratched his scraggly, orange beard. “Scootaloo, how high can you paint?”

Scootaloo thought for a moment. She stood on her hind legs and reached upward.

Big Mac grimaced. “Alright. Y’ can scoop up the hay and put it into an empty wagon.”

Scootaloo looked at the dirty, old hay that lined the floor of several stalls. Stalls which were built to house community-minded, close-knit cows. Most cows tended to be nice folks, but not the most hygienic Sapients in the world.

“Yeeugh.” Scootaloo’s wings shivered. “Now I especially wish I could fly.”

Apple Bloom wrapped her mane in a bun. Her eyes widened. She gave Scootaloo a lopsided smile. “Say, ah know how she could help with the paint.”

“A ladder?” Scootaloo said.

“Balloon juice!” Apple Bloom frowned. “Oh. Ah guess a ladder would work.”

“Balloon juice?” Scootaloo backed away from Apple Bloom. “You do realize that if I drank that outside, there’d be no more Scootaloo. Right?”

“Sure, unless we tied you down.” Apple Bloom chuckled. “Yah know, like a real balloon!”

“I don’t think there’s a market for Scootalloons.”

“Ahem.” Big Mac’s nose twitched as he got their attention. “We need a ladder anyway. You gonna help with the hay then, Apple Bloom?”

“Soon as ah get Scoots set up.” Apple Bloom draped a foreleg around Scootaloo and led her outside. “You owe me one fer this. Ah don’t like cleanin’ out the barn at all.”

“You owed me first.” Scootaloo looked way, way, way up at the barn. A faded, chipped image of a smiling Pinkie Pie covered it. “Vanity project?”

“Spirit lifter.” Apple Bloom handed Scootaloo a roller, a brush, and a scraper. She pointed at a pan of paint. “Scrape the loose chips, then roll the boards, then smooth it over with the brush if’n you got any thick spots. Don’t let it drip. Looks ugly when that happens.”

She tilted her head to the wall. “Try it out down here. Ah’ll get the ladder.”

Scootaloo wet the roller with red paint. She made a stripe on the wall, taking note of how the paint pooled up on either side. It started to drip, but she caught it with her brush.

Her eyes lit up.

She stuck her hoof in the paint and let the magic of the pegasi flow into it. She lifted a blob from the pan and held it in the air for a moment. About half a gallon, she figured. She set down the roller and separated a dab from the lot.

She flung the dab at the wall, where it stuck and spread as she guided it. Soon, a large portion of the wall was painted red, smooth and shining. She danced on her back hooves and fluttered her wings and she tossed a few more balls at the wall. She spun, drawing the paint out into a ring of color around her. She flicked paint upwards, creating a streak that went all the way to the top of the barn. She continued for a few more minutes, daubing and flicking, until she had used up the paint in the pan.

Her hooves were covered in red paint. She held them up and snickered. “Caught red-hooved.”

A clatter drew her attention to the side. Apple Bloom stood stock still, her mouth gaping. The ladder crumpled to the ground where she’d dropped it. Her green eyes tore themselves away from Scootaloo and crawled up the wall, which was now mostly red.

“Breathe, Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo said.

“Heeee…”

“Now come on,” Scootaloo said. “I’m out of paint, mare. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“This is some kinda horseapples.” Apple Bloom shook her head, rubbed her eyes, and looked again. “Ah was gone for like eight minutes!”

“Yeah?” Scootaloo stifled a snicker. “What took you so long?”

“Fer the love—” Apple Bloom shut her eyes. She shook. Big guffaws burst from her chest.

Big Mac rounded the corner with the wagon attached to his harness. “Whut’s so funny y’all gotta take time off t’—” He looked up at the wall. He blinked. “Huh.”

He looked at Scootaloo. “Water in the paint?”

“Eeyup,” Scootaloo said.

“Hmm.” He spat out his wheat stalk and bent down to pick up a grass blade. He munched and thought. “Ah think ah got a few more jobs for yah. Apple Bloom, get started on the barn while ah show Scootaloo the fixer-uppers.”

“Sure—sure thing, bro.” Apple Bloom laughed until she’d gone into the barn, a pitchfork tucked in her elbow.

Scootaloo peered back at the barn as she followed Big Macintosh. “Shouldn’t I finish that one before I start another?”

“Better ah show you what t’ do now,” Big Mac said. “That way, when yer done with one thing, yah can go on t’ the next right away.” His beard made scratching sounds as he ran a hoof over it. “The barn’ll take yah—what?—half an hour?”

“Gimme forty-five minutes,” Scootaloo said. “I just figured it out, you know.”

“Fair enough.” Big Mac pointed at a chicken coop as they passed. “Got a bucket of paint t’ put on that one. It’s lookin’ a little bare.”

He ran his hoof over the border fence built along the road. “Got some white yah could put on this. The whole thing, both sides.”

He stopped at the gate and unhitched himself. He held a hoof to his face to stifle a yawn. “S’cuse me.”

Scootaloo smirked. “I didn’t know Apples got tired.”

“Smart Aleck.” Big Mac walked across the road towards the south field. “Baby keeps Cheerilee and me up at night. We nap when Cinnamon naps.”

The Apple’s cabin in the south field was small and simple. Four walls, three rooms, bare wood trim, angled roof. Cheerilee stood off to the side, strapping her saddlebag-baby carrier combo onto her barrel. She plucked up a tiny, burgundy earth pony filly as she tried to waddle into the orchard. “Easy there, Cinnamon!”

Cinnamon blinked with big, green eyes. She pointed at a fruit held in Cheerilee’s other hoof. “Da?”

“Orange.” Cheerilee smiled as she let Cinnamon touch the fruit. “Or-ange.”

“Owngg,” Cinnamon said.

Big Mac’s constant dour expression vanished. He grinned with all his teeth as he trotted up to his wife and child. “Hay, Skinny Cinny! What color do y’ want t’ paint the house?”

Cinnamon reached up to her father’s massive mug and told him the word she’d just learned. “Owngg!”

“Big Mac, that’s cheating.” Cheerilee smirked and bounced the baby. “Tell him white goes with everything, Cinny.”

“Owngg!” Cinnamon blinked as Scootaloo came into view beside Big Mac. “Scooroo!”

“Hi, Cinny!” Scootaloo bent close and nuzzled the little filly. “You been good for mom and dad?”

“Owngg!” Cinnamon pulled on Scootaloo’s cheek. “Owngg!”’

Cheerilee’s curls bounced as she looked from pony to pony. “I thought you two were gonna be working on the barn today.”

“That was until Scootaloo here painted the entire east side of the barn in eight minutes.” Big Mac waved a hoof over the landscape. “She’s gonna be spending the day paintin’ some odds and ends here and there. Includin’ our cottage.”

Cheerilee let out a little gasp. “Did your wings finally—?” She held her breath and waited.

Scootaloo blinked. She turned away and waved a foreleg. “Naw, naw. I just figured out a cool way to use my special talent.” She showed Cheerilee the red on her hooves. “Who needs a paintbrush, huh?”

“Huh. I guess.” Cheerilee gave Big Mac a peck on the cheek. “I’m heading over to the schoolhouse for a teachers’ meeting. I’ll be back around supper.”

“Alright, Cheerilee.” Big Mac watched her go as she cantered off towards town. The smile didn’t leave his face until she was out of sight. All business, he nodded to Scootaloo. “Ah’ll get yah the paint. Y’ can head back to the barn.”

The barn took fifty minutes, most of which was taken up by experimenting with her abilities. The chicken coop hardly registered on the clock, and would have hardly registered as a job if she didn’t have to avoid painting the chickens magenta. The fence was an exercise in skill as she rode her scooter down the road, a swath of paint spraying out either side. By the time lunch rolled around, she’d painted most of the bare parts of the farmyard.

The cottage took a couple hours, just on account of how the bare, new wood soaked up paint. Orange paint, of course, in accordance with Cinnamon’s wishes. As she painted, the mental image of Cheerilee rolling her eyes in resigned exasperation jumped into Scootaloo’s head.

A little like her expression every time the Cutie Mark Crusaders returned from recess back in the day.

Scootaloo snickered as she strapped her helmet on. She waved goodbye to Apple Bloom and Big Mac and flew down the road. She’d been sent home mid-afternoon, with a lack of additional painting to be done. Some small part of her said she should have drawn the job out to several days, but that would have been dishonest.

Apple Bloom had agreed, and mentioned she’d try to convince her siblings to pay Scootaloo by the job instead of the hour. Since Big Mac had actually smiled at the way the barn shimmered, her chances for that looked pretty good.

She sighed as she reached the edge of town. The library was her next stop, but between Sweet Apple Acres and the library lay Town Hall. The center of law and civil service. The bastion of justice and fairness. The squatting grounds of dissatisfied citizens.

Ponies stood in a picket line before the building, holding up signs and posters. Scootaloo read a few as she passed: “Impeach Apple!” “Revert the Budget!” “Eliminate even the toughest stains!”

She stared at that last one for a while, before it was flipped and she realized the real message had been printed inside a box of cleaner.

Miss Mare, the former Lord Mayor of Ponyville, stood at the head of the crowd, holding a megaphone. “What do we want?”

“Celebrations!” the crowd answered.

“What do we want them for?”

“Everything!”

“Mayor Applejack promised to repair the roads when she was elected,” Miss Mare said. “So when she was elected, she cancelled the Nightmare Night concert! She refused to buy the town Hearth’s Warming Tree! She tore up what little roads we did have and replaced them all with circuitous detours! Are the detours gone?”

“No!”

Scootaloo parked her scooter at the edge of the crowd. She leaned on a nearby lantern stand, her eyelids low.

“The roads are not repaired, and the citizens say, ‘Where are our parties?’”

“Where are our parties?”

“Where are our celebrations?”

“What’s next, fellow citizens?” Miss Mare tossed her gray-streaked, white mane. “Shall she cancel Hearts and Hooves day? Shall she say there will be no Running of the Leaves? What of the Sisterhooves Social?”

“She always paid for the Social out of her own pocket!” Scootaloo yelped, but she was drowned out by the mob of agreement Miss Mare received.

“You come to watch the fun, too?” a voice asked from behind her. “Or are you just interested in the politics of ponies?”

Scootaloo turned and faced Diamond Tiara. She squinted. “Fun, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Diamond brushed Scootaloo aside with a bump of her shoulder. “It’s almost hilarious watching Ponyville turn against its oldest family.”

“There’s like a thousand people living in Ponyville,” Scootaloo said. “There’s like fifty here. Vocal minority.”

“Very vocal.” Diamond giggled. “I don’t think anypony has the heart to tell Miss Mare that her megaphone’s run out of magic charge.”

Scootaloo blew a tight breath through her lips. “You think they’d notice?”

“Come on, Crusader, enjoy what the Bearlin folks call schadenfreude.” Diamond Tiara reached up and adjusted the small, diamond-encrusted crown on her head. “It means pleasure in suffering.”

“That sounds like you, alright.” Scootaloo climbed aboard her scooter and flapped her wings. “You know what’s really funny?”

Diamond Tiara tossed her mane. “What?”

“By the time election year rolls around and Applejack gets kicked out,” Scootaloo said, “all the roads will be fixed, and she’ll start including community celebrations in the budget again.”

Diamond tilted her head. “So all this arguing and complaining… will be worthless?”

Scootaloo shrugged. “A little bit, yeah.”

Diamond licked her lips. “And they’ll still feel like they won. That is funny.”

Scootaloo took off at full speed and left Diamond Tiara in a cloud of dust. The pink mare coughed and hacked, though she was drowned out by the protestors’ rants.

It was practically a hop, skip, and a jump to the library. New Golden Oaks Library had been grown from one of the original’s seeds, salvaged from the explosion that had destroyed it. It had taken the earth pony biomancers five years to grow it large enough to house books, let alone a certain teenage dragon, but in the end it was even more beautiful than before.

It had a full second floor, instead of a loft. There was a massive bathroom that pulled water right from the town’s reservoir and shifted the used liquid through a filtering system Twilight had installed in the basement. It would have smelled like a sewer, if Rarity hadn’t known several scent-masking spells. Several thousand, in fact.

(1): Word had it that Applejack was pushing to get Ponyville classified as a city, though it wasn’t anywhere near a city-state like Cloudsdale yet.

The diameter of the trunk was doubled, as befit a library in the growing town of Ponyville (1). There was a small kitchen just behind the recipe book section, but otherwise literature held free reign of the ground floor layout. There were more reading areas, plenty of shelf space, and a hefty cabinet that held the book-sorting system.

“Hay, Spike,” Scootaloo said as she walked inside. She looked around, but didn’t see the dragon anywhere. “Spike?”

“In the kitchen!” Spike’s voice was slightly deeper, though still unmistakably his. A purple snout poked its way out of the doorway. “Can I get yah something? Sandwich? Soda?”

“No thanks.” Scootaloo plopped her mom’s borrowed book on the counter. “Just returning something and having a look-see. Got anything new?”

Spike popped an emerald in his mouth and munched. He walked on all fours to one shelf in particular. “Got a few in just today. There’s the new Daring Do book, complete with the ‘Now a major motion picture’ sticker.”

“Okay, I’ll be taking that at least.” Scootaloo hopped over and snatched it out of Spike’s claws. “I wonder if Rainbow Dash’s read it yet?”

“All signs point to ‘Oh, yeah.’” Spike grinned, his diamond-hard fangs glinting. “So, did you manage to fly Saturday? Sorry we didn’t get to hang out.”

“That’s alright. You had a job.” Scootaloo gave the back copy of the book a brief read. “And no, I didn’t. Haven’t given up yet, though.”

“I didn’t think you would.” Spike popped a knuckle and lumbered back towards the kitchen. “Have a look around. I’ll be right back after I’ve had my daily dose of minerals.”

“Gotchya.” Scootaloo flipped the Daring Do book open. “Daring Do and the Valley of the Lesser Light. Cool.”

After a few minutes of reading, she noticed Spike shelving books. She opened her mouth to speak, but cut herself off.

Spike was strong. His arms and legs were all muscle, which rippled beneath his scales. His tail was strong enough to lift an apple cart all by itself. Even so, his claws delicately lifted books and set them in place. He breathed lightly, so as not to singe the paper.

His forked tongue slithered out of his mouth, tasting the air. Possibly even smelling moods, judging by the way he turned to face her. “What’s up, Scootaloo?”

Scootaloo shifted her wings. “Ah, this is kinda embarrassing—”

“Embarrassment and I are real good buddies,” Spike chuckled. “What’s on your mind? Maybe I can help.”

Scootaloo shuffled back and forth. “Do you think you’ll ever fly?”

Spike stiffened. He looked back, between his shoulder blades. His scales lay bare before him. He turned back and coughed. “Well… I don’t know.”

She took a step closer. “I mean, you’ve seen more than I have, but… don’t all dragons have wings?”

Spike tapped his claws together. “Yeah. All I’ve seen, too. Except for me.”

He scratched his forearm. A few white scales flaked loose. “I’ve never had wings, even when I grew up that one time. Full size. Or when Twilight hatched me. I just don’t know if they haven’t developed yet or what.”

Scootaloo set the book on a table. She pressed her lips together as she considered his words, and her next ones. “Do you wanna fly?”

Spike frowned. He opened his mouth to speak multiple times, though he closed it just as quickly. He held his hands out. “Sure? I’d love to. I mean, if it’s in the works. I sure wouldn’t say ‘no.’”

Scootaloo felt the corner of her mouth turn up. “But you wouldn’t cry for months if you couldn’t?”

“No real use crying over what you can’t do,” Spike said. “Not when there’s a million things you can do.”

Scootaloo flicked her tail. “What if it’s something you really want to do?”

“Well…” Spike turned around, climbed the ladder, and shelved a few books. “Then heck, keep trying. We all gotta have dreams. Just cause I don’t need to fly doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.”

“I figured that.” Scootaloo walked across the room with a few quick strides. “I’m just trying to get a few different perspectives. See what other people think.”

Spike smiled down from the ladder. “I think I’m rooting for you.”

“Thanks.” Scootaloo leaned against the sturdy bookshelf. “So what’s your dream?”

“Hmm?” Spike paused with a book in his hand. “My dream?”

Scootaloo blew her curl up out of her eyes. “Yeah. What do you want outta life? What are you aiming for?”

Spike stared at the book, Rheumatism and its Remedies, with glazed eyes.

“I mean, even if you can’t get a cutie mark…” Scootaloo paused. She flapped her wings with slow, steady beats. “You gotta have something, right?”

Spike’s shoulders slumped. “I guess I wanna help.”

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Help?”

“Like, just help where I’m needed. Like at the library, or the fire department.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at Scootaloo. “I’m almost off my suspension, you know.”

“So your ultimate goal in life is to serve others?” Scootaloo gave him a brief guffaw. “Way to aim high, Spike.”

“I’m serious,” he said. “It’s important to me.”

Scootaloo looked at him. Their gazes met. “It really is, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Spike slid down the ladder and trundled across the room on his rear legs. It was pretty slow going with his draconic build. “Seeing my friends live a little easier… well, when I think about that, I can see how much flying matters to you.”

Scootaloo picked the Daring Do book off the table and carried it to the checkout counter. “So long as you don’t become a doormat.”

“Please,” Spike said. He stamped the date into the book and marked it down on his records. “Do I look like a doormat? Do I act like a doormat? I’m the only dragon who can say he’s a citizen of Equestria. I don’t think ponies would even consider ‘doormat’ when I’m around.” He bared his teeth. “More like they’d think, ‘please don’t eat me.’”

“They would not.” Scootaloo prodded his chest. “You’re as soft and squishy as a marshmallow.”

She frowned as her hoof bumped against pure muscle. “On the inside, I mean.”

Spike’s eyes widened as he took in her orange, white, magenta, and red paint-covered forelegs. “New dye job?”

Scootaloo put all four hooves on the floor. Her cheeks lit up. “Something like that.”

I Got Time to Kill and I Just Found the Murder Weapon

View Online

Scootaloo leaned on the counter of Ponyville’s Post Office. She tapped a hoof against a little bell. “Hello? Service? I need a stamp, here.”

Featherweight came barreling out of the sorting room. He skidded to a stop, reached out a twig-like limb, and grasped his hat off a coat rack. He plopped it on his head while he polished his name badge. “Hi, Scootaloo. What can I do for you today?”

Scootaloo dropped her letter on the countertop. “Stamp. I need to mail this pronto.”

Featherweight picked up the letter. His wings spread out as his face scrunched up. “There are two pieces of paper in here.”

Scootaloo grimaced. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna charge me double for—”

“No, no, that’s not it. This is legal.” Featherweight eyed the envelope. “It’s just not every day you see somepony mail two letters at the same time…”

Scootaloo leaned on her elbow. “How long have you worked here, again?”

“About a week.” Featherweight adjusted his red bowtie. “Gots tah make some money, gots tah pay the bills…”

Scootaloo held her hoof out under the pretense of examining it. “Gots tah woo the princess…”

“Gots tah woo the—” Featherweight blinked. He scowled at her. “I’ll have you know that I’ve actually gone on a date with Princess Twilight. That’s step one.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “I’ve heard her fervently deny that it was a date. Several times.”

“Ha.” Featherweight broke a stamp off of a roll. “You wanna lick it, or are you gonna make me do it?”

“And get your creepy stallion germs all over it?” Scootaloo snatched it. “Gimme.”

With the stamp in place, she slid the letter across the counter. “To Cloudsdale, via Pony Express Delivery.”

“Your letter is in PED’s safe hooves,” Featherweight droned. “Thank you, have a nice day.”

“You, too,” Scootaloo said. “Kiss the princess for me, will yah?”

“Kiss my cutie mark, Scootaloo.” Featherweight smiled as he waved goodbye.

She rolled through town, avoiding the flower shops and anywhere particularly political. She had a few hours to kill before she was expected back home. Burning daylight required a few precise decisions. She had the time, she had the motive, but she required a proper weapon and location.

Princess Twilight Sparkle’s castle gleamed in the sunlight, blinding her. Scootaloo stuck her rear hooves into the ground and rolled to a stop. She covered her face and peered at the massive crystalline formation near the edge of town. A home fit for a princess, perhaps, but at times a literal eyesore. It did wonders for the local tourist economy, though.

A second later, the glare went away. A shadow fell over Scootaloo, and most of the town along with her. Cloudkicker flew overhead, barking orders to the Ponyville Weather Team. Scootaloo could see Rumble in the thick of it. He nudged a few clouds into position over the marketplace and used a few beats of his wings to smooth them out.

Scootaloo watched them for a while, her eyes assisted by innate pegasus magic. She killed a few minutes watching how their bodies bent and flexed in flight, how their wings flapped and their tails flicked. Her own wings and tail flicked to match, copying movements to the best of her ability.

With the base cloud cover assembled, the pegasi retreated higher to adjust the inner workings of the coming weather pattern.

She gripped the handlebars on her scooter. “Oh yeah. We’re getting there.”

She felt the wind blow past her as she beat her wings. She pulled it in and pushed it behind her. Building flew by in a blur, and ponies called as she passed. She lifted a hoof to wave, but was usually gone before she could say anything.

Her eyes lit up as she passed Sweetie Belle’s shop. It wouldn’t be too much trouble just to stop in. If Sweetie was with a customer, she could just say hi and waltz back out. If not, hay, there’s an hour to send to the morgue. She performed a quick three-sixty and skidded to a stop in front of the shop.

She found herself parked next to a griffon. Its beak was moving, and small words were coming out, but it looked like a private conversation. So private, in fact, that there was nopony speaking with him.

He stared at the door to the Boutique, muttering to himself. He didn’t seem to notice as she locked the scooter to a streetlamp and walked up beside him.

“Don’t be alarmed, I’m a griffon,” he muttered just above his breath. “No, that didn’t work last time, either.”

Scootaloo, being short for a pegasus, felt tiny compared to even a midsized griffon like this guy. Her eyebrows came up to his shoulder. Her hoof was a fraction of the size of his paw. His wingspan reached twice as far as hers.

Even with all of that, he still jumped back with a little shriek when she tapped his side. “Are you okay, sir?”

“What?” the griffon brushed down the fur and feathers that had stood on end. “Um, yes. Of course. Thank you.”

“You… um…” Scootaloo swallowed a lump that formed in her throat as the griffon turned his head full to the side to look directly at her. It was a plenty unnerving to see someone with eyes on the sides of their head instead of the front, full range of sight notwithstanding. “You looking for somepo—somebody?”

The griffon’s fuzzy ears angled towards her. “Yeah. Sompony, actually. I was just… going to look through the shop for a gift to a friend.”

Scootaloo turned towards the Boutique, glad to have an excuse not to look at the griffon’s eagle eyes. “Well, hate to say it and don’t tell Sweetie Belle, but Carousel Boutique doesn’t have the best window shopping. You’d do better actually, you know, going inside.”

“Well, that is—” The griffon’s front legs did a nervous little dance, like a chickadee that wasn’t sure if it wanted to take off or not. “I would rather not scare the patrons or the owner away. I tend to do that.”

Scootaloo lifted an eyebrow. “You’re new around here, aren’t you?”

“Actually, I live here. Occasionally.” The griffon clicked his beak. “Why do you say that?”

“Splendid!” Discord said as he exited the Boutique. “Absolutely splendiferous! You say it’ll be done on Thursday?”

Behind him, draped in various fabrics and attempting to adjust a frizzy mane, was Sweetie Belle herself. She gave a slow, even nod.

Discord stood up straight and saluted with his left hand. “I’ll be by to pick it up—”

“No need! No need!” Sweetie Belle waved her forelegs. “I’ll have it—ah—delivered! Yes! Delivered right to your home! The very instant it’s done. Yes.”

Discord frowned. He took a bow, said “Very well. Rarity would be proud!” and vanished into thin air.

Sweetie Belle adjusted her glasses, which had gone lopsided sometime in the hour the draconequus had been there. Her eyes lit up when she saw Scootaloo and the griffon standing outside. “Oh my gosh, people! Please come in! Please, please come in.”

Scootaloo smirked at the griffon and walked inside.

The griffon stared at the Boutique with his beak unhinged. He clapped it shut, smoothed down his feathers, and strode through the door.

Sweetie curtsied. “Good afternoon, sir, and welcome to Carousel Boutique, where the fashion is chic, unique and magnifique. How may I suit your fancy today?”

“Thank you,” the griffon said. “I was hoping to purchase a scarf for a friend.”

“Very good,” Sweetie said. “Would you like to peruse the scarves I have available, or would you like to commission a custom piece?”

“I’ll… see what you got.”

“Alright. What is your friend’s coat color?”

“It’s a… light sky-blue?”

Sweetie smiled and slipped into one of her back rooms. The smile she gave Scootaloo was just as friendly, though a little more tired.

The griffon snapped his talons. “You must be Scootaloo.”

It was Scootaloo’s turn to jump. “Who wants to know?”

“Ha.” The griffon turned his head sideways again. “I’m Martial Paw. I’ve been working with Rainbow Dash on the movie. You know the one?”

“Yeah. Daring Do.” Scootaloo stretched her wings in and out. “You an actor or something?”

“No,” Martial said. “No. Historical advisor, actually. Subject matter expert. I’m an archeologist.”

“Oh, cool,” Scootaloo said. “Like Daring Do? Have you worked with her?”

“Um.” Martial Paw blinked. “Daring Do is a fictional—”

Scootaloo sat in one of the waiting chairs. “Relax, I know about Yearling. Rainbow Dash told me about it.”

Martial Paw clicked his beak. He cleared his throat. “Does Rainbow Dash regularly share matters of national security with her younger sister?”

“Only when they make for good stories.” Scootaloo chuckled. “So how’d you end up getting a job in Applewood?”

“Rainbow Dash recommended me after she was cast as Dr. Do.” Martial glared at one of the chairs for a moment. He sat down with a sigh. “We met after she got caught up in another one of her world-saving escapades.”

“And how’d you meet Daring?”

“Dr. Do hired me as a cartographer,” Martial said. “She said something about following the ‘buddy system.’”

“Right. Buddy system’s important.” Scootaloo glanced at the magazines on the table. There were a few new ones, most of which featured Rarity. “You said you live here?”

“Just occasionally. When there’s a dig in the Everfree.” Martial tapped his talons together. “Though I’m thinking of setting up a more permanent residence.”

“Really.” Scootaloo looked toward the back room, where sounds of rummaging could be heard. “The scarf’s for Rainbow Dash, isn’t it?”

Martial turned his beak towards her. “Yes. Something of a ‘welcome home’ present, I guess. Something to thank her for being a good friend.”

Scootaloo didn’t know whether to be thankful that he was facing her or annoyed that he wasn’t making eye contact. “Word to the wise, she really likes white.”

Martial’s beak turned up at the corners. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sweetie Belle carried a rainbow of scarves behind her in her magic grasp. “It’s quite glamorous to serve a griffon; we don’t get many in Ponyville. Are you visiting from the griffon kingdom?”

“Ah, no.” Martial stood and rummaged around in his shoulder-slung sack. He pulled out a sheet of paper with a royal stamp. “I was born in Felaccia, but I am an Equestrian citizen.”

Scootaloo leaned forward. “You really have to carry that around?”

“It… tends to come up.” Martial slid the citizenship papers into his sack. He perused the scarves with a keen eye. “Rainbow likes white, you say?”

“Oh!” Sweetie Belle shuffled a few from the pile. “Of course an aviator such as Miss Dash would appreciate scarves. Things must be chilly that high up.” She grinned. “This purple one would match her eyes.”

“It would, wouldn’t it?” Martial scratched his beak. He pointed to a soft, wooly scarf. “I think this one would do.”

Sweetie Belle assisted him at the cash register, bagged the item, and waved goodbye as he soared off. She slumped to the ground soon after. “I hate Discord.”

Scootaloo slid up beside her and rubbed her back. “You really nailed that whole ‘Retail Smile’ thing. I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“I hate Discord!” Sweetie shouted. Her glasses slid down her nose. “He brought the flannel to life! It started eating the silk!” She caught her glasses in her magic as they slid towards the ground. “He kept calling me Rarity’s daughter. Her daughter, Scootaloo! It doesn’t matter how many times I correct him, it just…”

She waved a hoof over her head. “Whoosh!”

“That’s…” Scootaloo shrugged. “Rough.”

“It’s not even the final nail in the coffin.” Sweetie Belle dragged Scootaloo into the inspiration room, where a sketch sat upon an easel. “I checked the calendars. Fluttershy’s birthday was two months ago. He’s doing this just to torment me!”

She sat down and stared at the drawing. “He’s so… childish.”

Scootaloo patted Sweetie’s shoulder with a wing. “I really doubt he’s putting this together just to rag on you. Maybe he wants to get a head start on next year’s birthday.”

“He is insane. Insane and evil.” Sweetie stood up and pushed Scootaloo’s wing away. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get to work.”

“Need some help?” Scootaloo flapped her wings. “I could, like, model or something.”

“Scootaloo, no offence.” Sweetie made a box with her hooves and examined her friend. “You’re sleek and lean. Fluttershy is one-hundred percent curves by volume.” She gathered up a few rolls of fabric. “I’d have a better chance modeling myself.”

Scootaloo snickered. “Too bad Pinkie closed up the mirror pool.”

“Don’t think I haven’t considered it.” Sweetie examined a pattern before tossing it to the side. “Thank you for the offer, but I think I’ve got this.”

“Hay, if you ever need anything, you know where to holler.” Scootaloo held up a glittering gold ticket. “So, you wanna see the new Daring Do movie?”

“That just started today, didn’t it?” Sweetie carried some pins in her mouth to a ponnequin. “I’m sorry, Scootaloo, but I’ve got a lot of work to do over the next few days.”

“We’ll see it on Thursday, to celebrate another job well done!”

“Eegh.”

“What?”

The pins in Sweetie’s mouth pointed up as she frowned. “I never really liked those books.”

Scootaloo froze. She crossed her forelegs. “Since when?”

Sweetie flicked her tail. “Since I grew out of grade school.”

“Wow.” Scootaloo rubbed her face. “Wow, geeze, Sweetie.” She returned the ticket to her bags. “Way to toss in the offhand insult.”

Sweetie Belle let out a little gasp. She turned her nose up. “It’s perfectly fine if I don’t enjoy all the same books that—”

“It’s not even that!” Scootaloo brushed her mane back. “What even makes you happy anymore? I mean, you are really, seriously grumpy. Especially the last few days.”

Sweetie’s eyes turned down. “Not all of us have charmed lives, Scootaloo.”

“And I do?” Scootaloo said. “I mean, really? I don’t—”

Scootaloo’s mouth snapped shut. She closed her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. That was dumb of me. I’ll let you work.” She walked to the door.

“Wait,” Sweetie said. “I… can come.”

Scootaloo looked over her shoulder, her eyebrows low.

“It will be fun, just hanging out with you guys again.” Sweetie rubbed her hooves together. “I always have so much fun with you. Thank you.”

Scootaloo slouched in the doorway. “I don’t wanna force it on you. Really, I don’t.”

“You aren’t. You’re just…” Sweetie lifted a roll of fabric and draped it across the ponnequin. “You just want to help me out of a slump. Or something.”

Scootaloo put on her best reassuring smile. It didn’t quite meet her usual standard. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Sweetie made a small correction to the sketch. “Could you help me with one favor?”

She chewed the inside of her cheek. “Will you please deliver the dress Thursday? On your way to or from work? I’d really rather not face Discord again. Ever, if at all possible.”

“Sure,” Scootaloo said. “What are friends for?”

“Saving my life, apparently.” Sweetie shook her head. “See you later.”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “See yah.”

Scootaloo had too much to think about, and too much time to viciously murder.

She streaked through town, keeping to the streets that weren’t very busy. She’d knocked over too many pedestrians as a kid; there was no telling how much damage she could do as an adult. She passed a small square with a fountain in the middle. The pumps were low-key, barely enough to keep the water flowing. A few foals played around or tossed bits into the pool.

“You’re pretty close,” Rumble said from her left, “but Rainbow Dash’s rainbow is in her mane.”

Scootaloo yelped and came to a grinding halt. She stared at Rumble for a few moments, pondering what he said, before she let her eyes drop to her paint-covered hooves. “You’re a riot.”

“A prison riot.” Rumble landed beside her. “So what’s the story behind Rainbow McCrayon-Hooves?”

Scootaloo dusted off her scooter with her tail. “You’re trying to be clever and it’s not working.”

“Alright,” Rumble said. He shifted weight from hoof to hoof as she got back on her scooter. “Candid, then. I thought you were working today.”

“I was, but then I learned how to paint with magic.” She waved her hooves in front of his face. “I painted the barn in less than an hour.”

Rumble’s eyes popped. “You’re just chewing the cud.”

“Nope.” Scootaloo leaned on her handlebars. “I painted a chicken coop in the time it takes to blink. Then I painted a cottage in two hours. Oh, yeah. I almost forgot the entire fence along the road to Sweet Apple Acres.”

Rumble’s lips hung slack. “Teach to me your secret, oh wise one.”

“What’s to teach?” Scootaloo shrugged. “It’s like pushing clouds around, only you put a little more oomph into it.” She skipped over to the fountain and drew forth a snake of water. “Like so. Try it out.”

Rumble stuck his hoof in and wiggled it around. Bubbles formed. “I’m not feeling it, Scoots.”

“You gotta practice.” Scootaloo sat on the edge of the fountain and juggled blobs of water. “Just grab a drop or two.”

She watched him splash the water, attempting to separate a few sprinkles. She snorted. “Hay, Taxi.”

She tossed a water blob at him. “Catch!”

It exploded against his face. He shook his head, snorting and coughing. He blinked back tears as he looked up at her. “Taxi?”

“From the other night, remember?” Scootaloo smirked and spread her wings. “We can keep doing that until you figure it out. How’s that sound?”

“I think…” Rumble closed his eyes and waved his legs. “No, no, wait. I think I feel it. I think I see what you mean.” He dipped his hoof back in the water. “I think… I think…”

He splashed Scootaloo with a wave that drenched her back and wings with cold water. She shrieked and jumped into the air.

“I think I got you!” he laughed.

She landed on her hooves a few meters away, next to her scooter. She shivered as she flapped her wings free of moisture. She giggled and flicked a few drops at him. “Jerk.”

The sky darkened as the clouds grew thicker. A few of the kids around the fountain were shuffling and thinking about heading inside. “Storm coming?” Scootaloo asked.

“Rain tomorrow, lightning Wednesday.” He flicked water back at her. “Some light sprinkling today.”

“That sucks for you and Spike trimming lawns tomorrow.”

Rumble grimaced. “We’ll manage. It’s just the overflow in preparation for the real storm.”

Scootaloo snorted. “Nice of you guys to schedule a thunderstorm when I’m babysitting for the Cakes. Rice and Patty are gonna love it.”

“What can I say?” Rumble said. “Cloudkicker’s the boss.”

“Hmm.” Scootaloo rubbed her chin as she spotted a lighter bunch of clouds. “How deep of trouble would you get if you bucked that particular patch of cloud on my mark?”

“None.” Rumble craned his neck. “I could fix it up pretty quick without ruining anything. Why?”

“I got time to kill, and I think I just found the murder weapon.” Scootaloo rubbed her hooves together. “Head on up there and wait for my signal.”

Rumble jumped into the air. “What’s the signal?”

“You’ll know it when you see it.” Scootaloo strapped her helmet on tight. “Go for it, Taxi.”

“That’s not as cute as you think it is.”

“Whatever you say, Cabbie.”

“That might be worse.”

“Exactly.”

She leapt onto her scooter and buzzed around the fountain. “Hay, kids, wanna see a trick? Step back, please, and watch closely.”

The kids pitter-pattered back a few steps, enough room for Scootaloo to roll around the fountain without rolling over anypony. She orbited around, her hoof trailing in the water. After a moment, she could feel the entire pool revolving around with her.

A small crowd drew as the first drops lifted out of the fountain. They continued to spin around as she rolled, at first not as fast as she was, but soon picking up speed. She glanced up and noted that Rumble was in just the right spot, watching with a raised eyebrow.

She hit a bump in the road and shot into the air. She rose up until she was right beside Rumble.

For that brief moment, she was weightless. No strings attached, no worries dragging her down, no issues clouding her vision. It was clear skies, open air, and Rumble.

She leaned out and kissed him on the cheek.

She must have broken something in his head, because she was halfway to the ground before he bucked the cloud and sent sunlight streaming towards the fountain. The light hit the whirlwind of water droplets, and refracted into a countless colors.

Scootaloo landed in front of her rainbow tornado and flared her wings out. The small crowd applauded heartily. She bowed as the rainbow died away. “Thank you, folks, thank you. I live in Ponyville, so I’m here for good. You’re a lovely audience.”

She rolled down the street at a sedate pace, satisfaction spread across her face. She heard flapping wings as Rumble caught up with her. She kept her eyes on the road, but she could feel his eyes on her.

“You amaze me,” he said. “You always, always amaze me.”

The tips of Scootaloo’s ears grew hot. “Y-you’re just saying that.”

“No I’m not.” Rumble rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re… special. I’m not sure how else to say it, but you’re very, very special.”

“Any pegasus could do what I just—”

“Then why don’t they?” Rumble flipped around and flew in front of her. His wings beat harder as he flew backwards. “I mean, seriously. I don’t know of any others who can do what you do.”

Scootaloo’s scooter slowed until she was inching along. She met his gray-purple gaze. “I—”

She stopped. He dropped to the ground with a thump and took a couple steps closer. “I think it’s okay to be a little proud, isn’t it?”

“Don’t—” Scootaloo turned away and choked out a laugh. “Don’t wanna get too big a head, right?”

Rumble’s lopsided grin didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Is it pride if it’s true?”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo said. “Yeah, it is.”

“It’s still true.” Rumble’s grin gained a little strength. “Ain’t nopony like you.”

Scootaloo felt like her ears could boil water and her cheeks could fry an egg. “Y-you’re a real sweet talker, you know that?”

Rumble tilted his head, his left ear flicking down. “Words are all I got, so it’s all I can give.”

Scootaloo dug her rear-left hoof into the ground. “I don’t really believe that.”

“Believe what?”

“That that’s all you’ve got to give.” Scootaloo pressed her wings against her sides. “I mean, your cutie mark says otherwise.”

A shiver ran across Rumble’s body. His eyes turned to look back at his flank, but his neck locked up to prevent it. “I dunno, Scoots.”

“Aw, this is too heavy!” She leaped up and wrapped her right foreleg around his neck. He stumbled tipsily under the lopsided, unexpected weight. “When did we become Ponyville’s philosophers? Let’s do something nuts!”

Rumble braced himself and stood to his full height. Scootaloo’s hooves dangled above the road. “How long’ve you got before you gotta go home for supper?”

“’Bout an hour.” Scootaloo reached over Rumble to climb onto his back, but stopped dead in her tracks when she heard a pot smash.

She turned her head and got an eyeful of the shop they’d stopped in front of, particularly the name on the sign: “Three Flowers Greenhouse.”

“Or, you know, less.”

A cream-coated mare bent down to clean up scattered pottery shards and dirt. “Hi, Honey.”

“Hay, Mom,” Scootaloo said. She jumped off of Rumble and helped her mother gather up the mess. Rumble followed soon after. “You okay?”

“I just bumped it, that’s all,” Roseluck said. “Mistakes happen.”

Rumble’s throat bobbed. “Good afternoon, Missus Roseluck.”

“Good afternoon to you, too, Rumble!” Roseluck stood up and wiped sweat off her brow. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around. My, you’re tall!”

Rumble chuckled as he focused on the pottery. “Yeah, kinda. I ate my wheat growing up.”

Roseluck nodded, her best bright smile plastered to her face. “You two have any plans for today?”

“Nope,” Scootaloo said. “We just ran into each other.” She punched Rumble’s shoulder. “Almost literally, in this guy’s case.”

“Hay, I got distracted…” Rumble coughed as he caught a negative shift in Roseluck’s stance. “By her rainbow tornado. It was something else.”

Scootaloo held her hooves up for Roseluck to see. “I can paint with magic, now.”

Roseluck’s shallow smile tightened. “Rumble, would you like to come over for supper tonight?”

Rumble shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, but it’s my turn to cook over at Thunderlane’s. He and Cloudkicker are kinda expecting me.” He sucked his cheeks in before continuing. “I’d invite you guys over, but we’re kinda low on—”

“Oh, that’s alright, I understand how things get.” Roseluck exhaled a deep, long breath. Pounds of tension left her shoulders. “It’ll have to be some other time, then.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” He winked at Scootaloo. “See you around.”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo stopped herself from acting on her first instinct; to hug him. Instead, she slapped his back with her wing. “Take care.”

He flew off, leaving Scootaloo with her mother.

“We do have to have him over sometime.” Roseluck carried a watering can towards a row of tulips. “He really is a nice young stallion. He really is.”

She watered the flowers for a little longer than necessary. “Especially if you two grow more… serious.”

Scootaloo opened her mouth to speak. Then she thought better of it. She mulled over her words for a few more seconds. “You’ll be cool about this, won’t you? I mean, it’ll get easier, won’t it?”

“I suppose.” Roseluck put the can away and sniffed a yellow rose. “I’ll manage. I promise.”

Scootaloo leaned back and forth. “You don’t have to worry about me so much, you know. I’m an adult, now. I can take care of myself.”

Roseluck wilted. Her tail dragged along the ground as she walked up to her daughter. She wrapped her forelegs around Scootaloo’s neck and pulled her close.

Scootaloo returned the hug. She felt damp tears on her shoulder.

“I love you, Scootaloo,” Roseluck said. “I want to protect you forever. I’m sorry I keep… embarrassing you—”

“You’re not embarrassing me, you’re just”—Scootaloo wrapped her wings around Roseluck—“you don’t have to worry.”

Roseluck sniffed. “I can’t help it.”

Scootaloo breathed deep. She held her mother and watched the sun go down. “You about ready to close up shop?”

“Lily will do it today.” Roseluck stood up and brushed herself off. She picked up her saddlebags. “We can head home anytime.”

Scootaloo climbed aboard her scooter and rolled slowly down the road beside Roseluck. “Seriously, though, I painted a barn with magic.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“Water in the paint, easy as pie.”

“Did you dance while you painted?”

“Of course I did! That’s half the fun!”

“The Macadamia? A waltz? Maybe something from Sapphire Shores?”

“A little something I made up that I like the call ‘the Roller.’”

“Roller?”

“Yeah, you sorta roll your whole body around, and the paint just floats around like bubbles.”

“Like belly dancing?”

“Um. Kinda. Except for the whole ‘belly’ part.”

“Aw, you didn’t do the wave?”

“My stomach is strong, but not that strong, Mom.”

“When I was your age, I could make my stomach dance all by itself.”

“That’s a little bit weird.”

“I should teach you how when we get home.”

“No offence, but that kinda dancing ain’t my—”

“You just got to have good balance on your rear hooves—”

“Mom.”

“—and good abdominal muscles—”

“Mom, please.”

“—maybe a silky skirt and saddle combo—”

“Mom!”

The moon appeared in the sky as they arrived at Quills and Sofas. The hearth was already warm and waiting for them, as well as a tasty meal. It proved to be a relatively relaxing night, even with the new dance lessons. Davenport got a good laugh out of Scootaloo’s embarrassment. After a bit, she joined in with the laughter, too.

Scootaloo was out like a light when she hit the mattress.

A Promise to Myself

View Online

~***~

“The crusade never ends!”

Scootaloo stood with her foreleg held to the sky and her tail waving in the wind. She was surrounded by a halo of dancing snowflakes that touched down lightly on her wingtips. She turned and brushed new-fallen snow off of her blank flank.

Four years had passed since Rainbow Dash had taken her on as an honorary younger sister. Two years since her two best friends had discovered their cutie marks. Five years since being a blank flank had gotten old.

Sweetie Belle looked up, a pencil in her mouth. She spoke around the eraser. “Shut the door before you turn the custard-filled donuts into frozen custard.”

Scootaloo kicked the door to Sugarcube Corner shut and pulled off her knit cap. “Hay guys. ’Sup?”

Apple Bloom bit into her cherry pie. With her mouth still full, she took a few licks of the ice cream scoop placed next to it. “Sweetie’s tryin’ tah write a new song.”

“It isn’t coming easy,” Sweetie said. “You can only rhyme ‘magic’ with so many words.”

Scootaloo pulled up a chair and looked over the display case from across the room. “Want me to help?”

Sweetie cringed. “No offense, Scootaloo, but the last song you wrote won an award for ‘best comedy performance.’”

“Sweet. I can be the next Cheese Sandwich.” Scootaloo brought a hoof to her mouth and belted out in her scratchy singing voice, “Yeah, I’ve stepped inside just once or twice, living in a Mustang paradise!”

“This is for an audition, Scootaloo!” Sweetie Belle spat the pencil out. “This is for real! It has to be perfect!”

Scootaloo leaned back as her wings flapped out. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Sweetie Belle squinted. Her shoulders drooped as she sat back in her chair. She munched her cinnamon roll. “Sorry I snapped.”

Scootaloo shrugged and walked over to the counter to order blackberry pie. She returned to the table and dug in with a smile.

“Magic… magic…” Sweetie Belle rubbed her forehead. “What else rhymes with magic?”

“Tragic?” Apple Bloom said.

“Blackjack?” Scootaloo said.

“Blackjack does not rhyme with magic.” Sweetie Belle shook her head. “And why would I write about tragedy in a song about magic?”

“Go fer the hypotheticals.” Apple Bloom waved a hoof. “Mah life would be so tragic, if not fer friendship’s magic, la la la, doo wop doo.”

“Many thanks to Ponyville’s resident lyricist, Apple Bloom Apple.” Sweetie Belle clapped her hooves slowly. She narrowed her eyes as she looked across the room. “Hay, Apple Bloom, can you see what that sign says?”

Apple Bloom glanced over her shoulder. “Two fer one muffin special. Why?”

Sweetie gripped the table and rocked it back and forth. “Oh, for the love—! Ugh.”

“Whoa, you’re gonna upset the pie,” Scootaloo said. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m officially nearsighted, now.” Sweetie Belle slapped a hoof on the table. “Nearsighted. On top of everything else. Do you know how annoying that is?”

Apple Bloom rubbed her chin. “Is that the one where you can’t see things up close or far a—?”

“I just asked you to read me a sign!” Sweetie Belle shouted. “Obviously it’s the one where I can’t see the color purple!”

Apple Bloom lowered her eyebrows. She rolled up her paper plate, tossed it in the garbage, and began pulling on her winter gear. Her wooly coat covered up her apple blossom cutie mark. “Ah’ll see y’all later. Gonna head back to the farm.”

“You just got into town,” Scootaloo said. “You gonna crusade with us or not?”

“Not… today.” Apple Bloom synched up her trapper hat. “Granny ain’t been feelin’ too good. Ah’m gonna help Applejack take care of her.”

Sweetie Belle sucked her cheek in. “Give her our best wishes.”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo finished off her pie. “And tell her Scootaloo said ‘Get well soon.’”

“Sure thing, guys.” Apple Bloom stepped into the wintery air. “Good luck on the song, Sweetie. And on your cutie mark, too, Scoots.”

Sweetie Belle blew a breath through her lips before turning to Scootaloo. “What’s on the agenda for today? You wanna try for a snowplow cutie mark?”

“You’re hilarious.” Scootaloo leaned on her elbows. “I dunno. The older we get the more I think a cutie mark isn’t something I can get help with.”

Sweetie Belle nodded. “We helped Apple Bloom out quite a bit, I think. It’s been a couple years. Maybe you need a different approach?”

“With what?” Scootaloo slumped in her chair. “I can dance until my hooves fall off, I can do a bajillion tricks on the scooter, I’ve done a quadrillion stunts… and nothing’s worked.”

Sweetie Belle looked down at her flank, where her bell-and-music-notes cutie mark sat. “Maybe you need to do it like I did. Perform in front of a crowd. Let the cheers lift your heart.”

“Maybe, but I’ve never made my talents a secret.” Scootaloo chewed on her pie and her thoughts. “I gotta fly. That’s gotta be it.”

“You’ve been chomping at the same bit for five years,” Sweetie Belle said. “You’re twelve now. Maybe that’s what’s holding you back. You’ve got to acc—”

Scootaloo jumped up. “If you dare say I need to accept horseapples I’m stuffing gum in your mane. I don’t need to accept a cuss-darn thing except that I’m a pegasus.”

A cleared throat from across the room caught their attention. Mrs. Cake gestured to the small filly resting on her back, Pumpkin Cake. “Keep the swearing down, please. Little pitchers and big ears and all that.”

“Sorry,” Scootaloo said as she sat down. “Sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be too sorry, dear.” Cup Cake trotted up behind Scootaloo and rested her hooves on her shoulders. “We all say the wrong thing a time or two. Creator could tell all the times I’ve said something colorful after burning my hoof on the oven.”

Sweetie Belle picked her pencil up in her mouth and wrote down a line or two. She quickly crossed them off with a sigh.

Cup tilted her head. “How’s about a nice cup of hot cocoa, on the house. You two look like you could use some cheering up.”

“Thank you,” Scootaloo said.

While Mrs. Cake busied herself with a kettle, Sweetie Belle scribbled on her notepad.

Scootaloo rocked on her seat. “What’s your song about?”

“How magic feels.” Sweetie chewed on her eraser. “That feeling you get when your heart beats a little faster, and you can feel the life flowing through you. The tingle in your fairy strings. The warm glow from your horn.” She tapped her pencil against the table. “Well, I guess that last one is just for unicorns.”

“So what’s the holdup?”

“I know what I want to say, I know how I want the song to sound, it’s just”—Sweetie stuck her tongue out and brushed off bits of eraser—“getting this stuff on paper is hard. How are you supposed to describe feelings like that in a way everybody will understand?”

Scootaloo tapped her hooves together. “I got no idea.”

“Me either.” Sweetie crumpled up a page and tossed it into the trash can. “‘You’re gonna shine.’ Of course we shine, we’re stinking unicorns. We’ve got a built-in glow stick.”

Scootaloo pressed her lips together. “Could the song be about other kinds of ponies, too? Unicorns aren’t the only ones who know what magic feels like.”

“Yeah…” Sweetie Belle’s ears drooped. “Maybe that’s my problem. A song about how magic feels is dumb because everypony knows how it feels.”

“You gotta find a way to make it exciting.” Scootaloo leaned back to let Cup Cake set a mug of cocoa before her. “Thanks, Mrs. Cake!”

“Thank you,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Be careful, girls,” Mrs. Cake said. “It’s hot.”

“We will.” Sweetie blew the steam coming from her mug, then stirred it up to cool it down.

Scootaloo hovered her hoof over the mug and swept it from side to side. As she went, the steam swirled and danced after her foreleg, creating feathery curlicues and spirals. She paused when she saw Sweetie staring at her. “What?”

“How are you doing that?”

“Doing what?” Scootaloo shrugged. “Playing with the steam?”

“Yes.” Sweetie Belle rubbed her eyes. “Yes, that exactly. How are you making designs with steam?”

“Um.” Scootaloo waved her hoof over her mug a couple more times. “Can’t everypony?”

Sweetie stuck her hoof into her own little steam cloud and wiggled it. The steam continued up to the ceiling.

“Huh.” Scootaloo made a halo above her head and grinned. “Maybe steam design is my special talent.”

“I guess it makes sense, since that’s basically a really small, really thin cloud.” Sweetie Belle leaned on the back of her chair. “Maybe your talent is in weather management?”

“That’s kinda boring.” Scootaloo made a butterfly appear out of her mug. It flapped around and dissipated. “Maybe my talent is in extreme weather management. Like Equestria Games weather management. Is weather management an event?”

“Kinda?” Sweetie sipped her cocoa. “I think you paid more attention to those parts than I did.”

Scootaloo took a giant gulp of her cocoa. She licked her lips and blew steam out her mouth. “Whoo! That hit the spot.”

“Yeah, a little bit.” Sweetie pouted at her notepad. “Maybe a song about cocoa will inspire me.”

“You know what needs more songs written about it?” Scootaloo said. “Flying.”

“I have no personal experience with flying,” Sweetie said.

“Neither do I.” Scootaloo flapped her wings. “Directly, anyway. But that doesn’t stop songs about flying from being really awesome.”

“I’ll consider it,” Sweetie said with a small smile. “Now how about we go and you can practice getting that new weather management cutie mark of yours.”

“It isn’t gonna be weather management.” Scootaloo guzzled the rest of her mug. “I swear on my pinions.”

“Please, Scootaloo.” Sweetie set a cloche hat on her head. “You don’t get to choose what talents you’re given.”

“No, maybe not.” Scootaloo pulled her coat on. “But that’s not all a cutie mark’s about, is it?”

Sweetie Belle paused at the door. “I guess not.”

Scootaloo drew up beside her. “What promise did you make to yourself when you got your mark?”

Sweetie bit her boot’s pull-string to tighten it. “Promise?”

“Yeah, you know. When’d you finally say to yourself, ‘Yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do.’”

Sweetie shuffled her hooves. Her brow furrowed. “Well… I guess it was when others started joining in the song.”

New-fallen snow crunched under their feet. They made their way down the street towards Quills and Sofas. “I just saw, like, a light in their eyes. A sparking something that just grabbed me. It was…” Sweetie’s head dipped low. “You’re gonna call it girly.”

“No, I’m not gonna make fun of you. Fillyscout’s honor.” Scootaloo held a hoof against her chest.

“You’re not a Fillyscout.”

“Fine. Pinkie Pie Promise.” Scootaloo crossed her heart, fluttered her wings, and stuck her hoof in her eye. “Just an honest answer to an honest question.”

Sweetie smiled. “The sparkle was so beautiful. It was like for just a moment, everypony’s hearts were all connected, and I was the connection. Well, my song was. But I was the one singing it, and I felt just as connected. I want to connect people through song. I want people to feel that same heartbeat. I want people to feel that sparkle that I felt and saw.” She licked a snowflake that had stuck to her lips. “I want to shine, and I want to help others shine. I guess that’s the promise I made.”

Scootaloo nodded. “That’s why the new song has to be perfect?”

“I wanna capture that moment again.” Sweetie lifted her head high. “I wanna feel that connection again.”

She giggled and waved a hoof. “That’s deep enough for today. What’s next for us?”

“We’ll head to the big sledding hill first,” Scootaloo said. “Rumble told me it’s got a wicked hairpin turn that we might make if I practice a couple times.”

“Sledding?” Sweetie shook her head. “Oh no. No, no, no. We’re gonna crash and it’s gonna completely ruin my hat!”

“You can borrow one of mine.” Scootaloo grinned. “Or is your mane allergic to hats that cost less than a hundred bits?”

“Pfft. This hat didn’t cost that much. Rarity made it herself.” Sweetie prodded her friend in the side. “You don’t want to get a hatter mad.”

“I thought they already were.” Scootaloo ducked under a clump of snow as it zinged at her. “Whoa! Is that how we’re playing?”

“Call it righteous retribution for your heinous personal slight.” Sweetie rolled up another gob of snow. “The honor of my sister has been besmirched.”

“Oh yeah?” Scootaloo chuckled. She jumped behind a snow bank and scooped up a snowball. “I’m gonna besmirch your face!”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Sweetie Belle’s snowball arced over the bank and clocked Scootaloo in the back of the head. “You’re begging for powdered donuts, girl!”

“Alley goop!” Scootaloo threw a snowball far over Sweetie.

“That’s ‘Allez hop!’” Sweetie said, sticking her head above her own protective bank. A snowball smacked her right in the nose. “That does it!”

Scootaloo ran as a dozen snowballs assailed her all at once, gripped in a shaky blue glow. She was backed against a wall with nowhere else to go. She held out her hooves, spread her wings, and braced for impact.

The impact didn’t come.

She opened her eyes and found herself surrounded by a small cloud of snowflakes. She waved her hooves, and they moved in time. Her jaw dropped.

“Scootaloo? Are you okay?” Sweetie Belle ran up, her horn sparking. She rubbed her forehead and groaned. “Feels like my head exploded.”

“Mine too,” Scootaloo said. She made the snowflakes bounce as her grin widened. “But in a good way.”

Sweetie’s mouth hung slack. She looked the snow cloud up and down. “Are you doing that?”

“Eeyup.”

“All by yourself. With just your magic.”

“Oh yes.”

Sweetie Belle frowned as the snow drifted over to her. “You’re gonna dump a whole snow bank on my head, aren’t you?”

“Quick, take your hat off.”

“You’re a monster.”

~***~

Rainbow Dash pushed open the door and nearly walked right into a cloud. Inside Quills and Sofas. Indoors.

Scootaloo bounced on another cloud that floated nearby. “Rainbow Dash! Rainbow Dash! Look what I can do!”

Davenport walked through the cloud like it wasn’t even there. “Anything you can do to keep my little girl from raising our water bill to ‘national mint’ proportions will be greatly appreciated.” He pulled a plastic cover over one couch before hurrying to do it again with the others.

Rainbow Dash laughed. “Good job, Squirt, but I think you should’ve practiced cloudmaking outside.”

“It’s not just cloudmaking!” Scootaloo bounded down and gripped Rainbow Dash’s hoof. “Come on! Come see!”

Davenport sighed. “At least the pipes won’t freeze. Maybe.”

Rainbow Dash pulled off a purple scarf and laid it on a passing loveseat. “You’ve got some kinda new trick or something?”

“Better!” Scootaloo entered the kitchen. She held up a pitcher of water and turned it upside down. “Check it!’”

Rainbow Dash flinched back from the expected splash, but when it didn’t come, she took a second look. “Is that water… suspended?”

“Heck yeah! And that’s not all!” Scootaloo reached in and pulled out a round drop of water. She set the pitcher down and kicked the drop like a ball. “I can do all sorts of stuff! Bounce it, make it fly, turn it into a cloud—”

She tried to bounce it on her head, but the drop splashed against her nose. She blinked water out of her eyes and chuckled. “Maybe I need a little more practice.”

Rainbow Dash’s mouth twitched. “H—how are you doing this?”

“Just extending the good old magic of the pegasi.” Scootaloo stretched her forelegs behind her head. She reached into the pitcher and pushed the water around like it was a semisolid. “You try it.”

Rainbow Dash looked at her hooves. “I won’t deny the awesome, but—”

“Try it!” Scootaloo’s wings buzzed. “Let’s see what you can do!”

Rainbow Dash stared at the pitcher for a long moment. She shook her head with a smile, dipped her hoof into the water, and splashed around. “Sorry, Squirt. Looks like this is a ‘Scootaloos only’ event and I ain’t no Scootaloo.”

“But…” Scootaloo’s face scrunched up. “But you’re a pegasus, too. You’ve got the same magic.”

“Oh heck no I don’t!” Rainbow Dash ruffled Scootaloo’s damp mane. “Every pony has their own special magic. It’s as unique to you as a voice. You’ve got ponies with a loud voice and ponies with a quiet voice, but they’re never exactly the same.”

“Inspirational speech number three-thousand seventy-five,” Scootaloo said. “Check.”

“Yeah, yeah, but I mean it.” Rainbow Dash shook her tail. “You don’t know anypony else who can do the sonic rainboom, do you?”

“No.”

“And I don’t know anypony else who can… can…” Rainbow Dash brushed back her mane. “Holy cow, what is it you do? You just sort of…”

Scootaloo trailed a snake of water out of the pitcher. It grew to leg’s length before it fell back in. “I bring it to life.”

Rainbow Dash’s wide eyes finally blinked. She laughed softly and shook her head. “Yeah. Yeah, you do.”

Scootaloo shifted her weight between her front legs and her back legs. Her ears perked up. “Hay. Hay, hay, hay.”

Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“Only I can do this.” Scootaloo brought her hoof up to her chest. “Only I’ve done this. It’s what makes me special.”

“One of the things that—”

“Oh my gosh, it’s my super-special talent!” Scootaloo jumped into the air and hovered. “I’ve found my super-special talent! I’m a water-er-er!” She landed and looked at her blank rump. “And I’m gonna be the best at water-er-er-ing!”

The kitchen grew quiet. The sound of a magic-powered fan blowing away clouds in the showroom reached their ears. Scootaloo held her breath, her eyes never leaving that special spot where a cutie mark was sure to appear.

Nothing happened.

Scootaloo licked her lips and exhaled. “Maybe I need to think up a design in my head.”

“Squirt—” Rainbow Dash lifted a hoof, but stopped short of putting it on her shoulder. “Scootaloo, I don’t think—”

“What?” Scootaloo pulled back with a frown. “What? You don’t think this is my super-special talent? You don’t think this is what I was meant to do? You got a better idea, sister?”

“Well, no,” Rainbow Dash said. “I just thought that maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Scootaloo said. She stomped a hoof on the floor. “Maybe what?”

“Maybe I don’t know.” Rainbow Dash’s eyes went to the water pitcher. “It’s totally awesome what you can do. But I don’t know why it’s not appearing.”

“It should appear!” Scootaloo’s wings shivered at her sides. “It should have appeared already! I’m good at a million different things! I could get a mark for any one of them! Why hasn’t it appeared yet?”

Rainbow Dash took a small step back. “If I knew why, I’d tell you.”

Scootaloo’s face turned purple. “What’s wrong with me?” she shouted.

She ran past Rainbow and bolted up the staircase.

Rainbow Dash sat at the foot of the stairs. She looked up, her wings opening and closing. She met Davenport’s eyes with a silent plea.

“We should probably give her time to cool down,” he said. When Scootaloo’s door slammed, he added, “Yup. Time to cool down.”

Rainbow Dash gave him a single nod.

~***~

Scootaloo buried her face in a pillow. A normal pillow, unlike the soft, cloudy pillows Rainbow Dash used. An earth pony pillow filled with chicken feathers.

Scootaloo chucked it across the room.

She stood up on her bed and flapped her wings. “Just gotta fly… just gotta fly… just gotta fly…”

She jumped, spread her legs out, and creaked the bedsprings upon landing. “I just gotta fly!”

She lay her head on its side and wiped her eyes. “Then everything’ll make sense.”

There was a soft knock at the door. Scootaloo turned toward the wall. “Unless you got a bucket of ice cream, I ain’t interested!”

The door inched open. Roseluck poked her head in. “Just a bowl or two, actually, but does it count?”

Scootaloo covered her head with her wings. “Come in.”

Roseluck walked in, shut the door, and placed a bowl of strawberry ice cream, topped with chocolate syrup and cookie crumbs, on Scootaloo’s nightstand. She sat next to the bed and licked at her own bowlful.

Scootaloo peered through her feathers. “You’re an awfully persuasive person.”

“A finely honed tal—” Roseluck cleared her throat. “Skill.”

Scootaloo took a bite of ice cream. “Nice catch.” She licked syrup off her chin. “Did Rainbow Dash go home?”

“She has to pack.” Roseluck ran a hoof down Scootaloo’s foreleg. “She said she hopes to see you at the train station tomorrow.”

“She will.” Scootaloo set her bowl on the bed and sniffed. “I screwed up so bad, Mom. I just wanted to show Dash what I could do, and then I was so sure I was gonna… and I just…”

“Hay, come here.” Roseluck held her forelegs out. Scootaloo climbed off the bed and into her embrace. “You’re okay. There’s nothing that happened today that won’t be okay later.”

“But it isn’t okay now.” Scootaloo pulled against her mother’s hug. “I should go to Rainbow and—”

“You can do it tomorrow. It’s too cold to go out tonight.” Roseluck sighed. “Besides, it isn’t okay with you, yet.”

“No.” Scootaloo coughed up some phlegm. “But the only thing that’ll make it okay is if—”

“If you got your cutie mark?”

“Yeah. Kinda stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, Honey. It’s something you’ve wanted for a long time. Something you’ve been looking forward to, and—” Roseluck looked at the Wonderbolts poster on the wall. “And if I could just give it to you, I would.”

“But you can’t,” Scootaloo said.

“No.”

“Because it’s something I have to decide for myself.”

“Yes.”

Scootaloo stood up. She walked around the room, looking at the various posters and pictures of cool locations around Equestria that she was for sure going to visit someday. “And it’s got to be a promise. A promise to myself. About who I want to be. Of who I’m going to be.”

Scootaloo stopped at the mirror on the back of her door. She stared at her damp, matted mane, her tired eyes, and her chocolate-stained chin. “And here I’ve just been worried about what I’m gonna do.”

Roseluck sat her ice cream to the side. “So who do you wanna be?”

“I dunno.” Scootaloo tilted her head as she searched her own violet eyes for an answer. “I’ve just been… bouncing from talent to talent and back again. Like, I don’t know, some kind of crazy butterfly jumping between flowers. Grabbing the nectar, finding another flower to see if it has better nectar, going back to the first because the second one wasn’t good enough…”

She lifted a hoof and waved it in a swirly pattern. “And nopony can keep up ’cause they can’t even tell where I’m going, and I barely even know where I am, and it’s all just crazy.

“So maybe that’s all I am,” Scootaloo said. “A crazy butterfly who can’t decide to do anything because everything is awesome. And I wanna do it all. And I can do it all.”

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing to me,” Roseluck said.

“Naw.” Scootaloo shook her head. She turned away from her reflection and back to her mom. “But it ain’t enough. It’ll never be enough.”

She walked up to the wall and looked out the window. Ponyville lay buried under a layer of snow that grew as the clouds overhead rolled. “There’s still one thing, Mom. I gotta fly.”

Roseluck’s head tilted down. Her shoulders slumped. “Honey, I know you want to—”

“No. You didn’t hear me. I gotta fly. I have to fly. I need it.” Scootaloo gave Roseluck a pointed glare. “I’m gonna fly. I will fly.”

She squared her hooves and spread her wings. “I’m gonna fly. I don’t care what ponies say.”

Her heart beat faster as she glared out the window. “I don’t care what they think they know about me. I don’t care if my wings are small. I don’t care if I’m the encyclopedia entry for ‘late bloomer.’ I don’t care if I’ve barely gotten off the ground. I don’t care what they think I can’t do!”

A lump appeared in her throat that demanded to be let out. “I’m gonna fly! Do you hear me? I’m going to fly!”

Her legs tingled. She rushed up to the window and threw it open. She propped herself up on her forelegs and leaned out. “Did you hear me that time, Ponyville? I’m gonna fly! I’m gonna fly!”

Her body felt lighter than air. Her mouth spoke almost without her permission. Her heart soared as it raced faster and faster. “I’m gonna fly, Ponyville! My name is Scootaloo, and I will fly!”

The room flashed. Scootaloo didn’t look at her flank, because she already knew what was there. A crazy butterfly, flapping along on a path nopony could follow, bouncing from flower to flower because there was always something better. A crazy butterfly who never stopped bouncing, because she knew that there was one thing still missing.

“I’m gonna fly,” Scootaloo said, “and there’s nothing that can stand in my way.”

~***~

“How long’s it been since I cleaned this thing?”

Davenport brushed various bills and tax forms off his desk in a last-ditch attempt to look professional. He pulled his collar as sweat collected underneath it. “Miss Rich. Or Miss Tiara? I’m happy you decided to patronize Quills and Sofas.”

“Everypony in this dumb town has some sort of monopoly,” Diamond Tiara said. “What’s your deal on fully furnishing?”

Davenport did his best to give a warm smile. It was more like a worn simile. “Does Mr. Filthy Rich want to redecorate? It seems a bit late in the year for—”

“She’s moving in with me,” Silver Spoon said. She chuckled. “Ponyville’s rising star is finally stepping out on her own. With me, of course. Our apartment is gonna need furnishing. Maybe a little stationary to go with it…”

“I happen to have both of those things,” Davenport said. “In bulk.”

“Yeah, yeah, congratulations.” Diamond Tiara jutted out her lower lip and looked at the bare white walls of Davenport’s office. “Just tell me how much this is gonna cost.”

“Depends on the furniture you wanna get.” Davenport shrugged. “I can let you two look over the stuff in the catalogue if you don’t like what you see in the showroom.”

“Oh that would be nice, sir,” Silver Spoon said. “May we see the catalogue?”

“Of course, just—” Davenport dug through the pile of paper on his desk. “Huh. I’ve been looking for that book. Bill, bill…” His hoof touched a love letter from Roseluck and slid it out of view. “Another bill. Ahem.”

He paused a moment. He found a folder of information about flight camps around Ponyville. Unused. His eyes flicked to the picture of Scootaloo on his desk, smiling at the camera with a giant pink cotton candy cloud stuck in her mane. “Sorry, Kid.”

“Beg pardon?” Silver Spoon said.

“I think I left my latest catalogue upstairs,” he replied. “I’ll be right back. Please make yourself comfortable. I think there’s still coffee in the pot.”

Silver Spoon gave him her sweetest smile. “Thank you very much.”

He hurried out the door, leaving the two to plot in private.

“Don’t worry about the price, Diamond,” Silver Spoon said. “I’ll cover the cost…” Her smile turned a shade darker. “While you job-hunt. You can pay me back later.”

Diamond’s face turned red. “You’d be in the same boat as me if your dad had kicked you out when you turned eighteen.”

“Instead of giving me a job? I know.” Silver Spoon shut her eyes and shrugged. “But then you wouldn’t have had your best friend to help you out.”

“You smug…” Diamond Tiara gritted her teeth. “Thanks a million, BFF.”

“A million would be a start…” Silver Spoon leaned over Davenport’s desk and shuffled through the files. “What sort of issues do the common people deal with these days? Huh, water bill isn’t bad nowadays.”

Diamond Tiara snickered. “Remember when Scootalooser almost drowned the audience with her ‘super-special talent’ at the talent show?”

“One of many fantastic fiascos. I remember.” Silver Spoon pulled up a folder with “Flight Camp” typed onto the front. “Like the fiasco that is her life.”

“Oh that’s priceless. Let me see.” Diamond grabbed the folder and shuffled through it. “‘Learn beginning skills of thermal riding, cloudjumping, and gliding.’ The dumb cripple can’t even do the basics.”

Silver Spoon looked at the back of the folder. “You really think she’s a cripple?”

“What other explanation is there?” Diamond snickered at another pamphlet. “This one’s from Scenic Meadows Cloud Ranch. I think somepony has their wires crossed.”

Silver Spoon snatched the folder. “Hay!” Diamond Tiara said. “I was mocking that!”

“Shut up.” Silver Spoon dumped the contents of the folder onto the desk. She picked up a page printed on glistening, enchanted paper. She read over it with a smile. “Isn’t that odd?”

Diamond Tiara adjusted the crown on her head. “What? What is it?”

“Does Davenport strike you as a particularly organized individual?” Silver Spoon asked.

Diamond gave the desk a single glance. “No.”

“At some point this folder became the ‘Scootaloo’ folder.” Silver handed the page to Diamond. “Take a close look.”

Diamond studied the page as Silver Spoon put the papers back in order. “It’s her birth certificate?”

“Look closer.”

“At what?”

“Closer. Think.”

Diamond Tiara squinted at the page. She drew back with a start. “There’re overlapping spells on this thing. Some of these names have been changed. The parents—”

Davenport’s heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. Diamond Tiara stuck the birth certificate in the folder.

“The question is,” Silver Spoon said, “does he keep the adoption papers in the bathroom or the broom closet?”

I Usually Only Make a Mistake Once

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Tuesday passed almost without comment. Apple Bloom said she would be happy to join the gang at the movies, especially considering the free ticket from Rainbow Dash.

“Y’ gotta promise yah won’t go sneaking snacks into the theater like last time. Y’ almost got us kicked out!”

“That was a fluke. I’ve got it all figured out. All I need to do is leave out the peanut brittle—”

“Scoots!”

“I mean ‘yes, ma’am.’”

The day’s rain made farm work that much harder, but it was nothing compared to Wednesday’s deluge. For one day, maybe once a month, an unrelenting storm was necessary to balance out the pressure system, return moisture to the soil, and blow off a little of the bleed-over Everfree magic all in one go. When the weather schedule required it, it was astonishingly easy to put together a storm. Just pack up a bunch of clouds, bunch them together over the town, and let one end touch the boarder of the Everfree Forest. The chaotic magic in that patch of land would do most of the work.

Unfortunately, the storm was easy to start but impossible to control.

Outdoor activities were kept at a minimum by the townsfolk. Gardens were worried over from a distance. The market was as barren as a ghost town. The outdoor tables of restaurants were gathered up and ushered into storage closets. Anypony who needed to go anywhere wore heavy coats and boots at the least.

So the Apples gave Scootaloo Wednesday off.

She spent most of the day in her room, listening to the rain beat against her window and flipping through the new Daring Do novel. She tried to help her father in his shop for about an hour, before she realized that nopony was gonna go sofa-shopping on a day like that. Princess Twilight did stop by to purchase a bulk order of quills, but they hardly needed Scootaloo to help with that. They’d done it so often she wouldn’t have been surprised if Twilight ordered new quills in her sleep.

“I’m gonna need double this time,” Twilight said. “I’ll be conducting an experiment in writing two papers at the same time. It’ll no doubt cut composition time in fractions once I manage it. And if the first time works out, I’ll continue to increase the number of quills in flight.”

Davenport blinked. “You’re not going to be writing while flying, are you?”

“What? No. ‘Flight’ meaning the quills will be in the air. In my magic. Writing. While I’m planted firmly on the ground.” Twilight’s wings extended, lifting her heavy coat a little. “I won’t be able to fly while writing for at least another year of practice.”

“That’s just asking for trouble,” Scootaloo mentioned from a nearby couch seat. “Rainbow Dash always says that a pegasus that isn’t looking where she’s going is going to end up someplace she wasn’t looking for.”

(1): Nowhere being somewhere in particular, but nowhere you’d think was somewhere you’d particularly like. Pocket dimensions were just that: Pockets of space. They were about the size of a lockbox, and could hold little more than important documents or trinkets. Only highly powerful unicorns were able to generate this particular distortion of time and space, and most of those only used it as a sort of high-status parlor trick. Twilight, however, was a scientist, and wasted space was a grievous sin.

Twilight pouted. She pulled a checklist from Nowhere (1) and scribbled a quick note. “I could have some sort of collision detection spell in effect to prevent running into the odd windmill or two, but I do suppose I can’t account for cross breezes from blowing me off course enough to send me flying over the Everfree or somewhere else I’d rather not go. Perhaps a compass spell to make sure I always point in the same direction. That way I can travel as the bird flies, literally.”

Images of a purple alicorn covered in a cloud of scrolls and surrounded by a swarm of quills, flying her merry way over hill and dale, oblivious to the air traffic accidents she was causing, flew through Scootaloo’s mind. “This is assuming you don’t cause some sort of magic explosion by splitting your concentration between that much calligraphy.”

“The worst that could happen is that my magic would fritz out and the quills would drop.” Twilight smiled. She frowned. “Sending a million sharp objects tumbling down to Ponyville, landing atop a few dozen innocent bystanders.”

Davenport patted the box of quills. “Will you not be needing these anymore, your Highness?”

(2): Yes, the Equestrian money system is made up of bits and pieces.

“Oh, no, I’ll need them.” Twilight passed him a bag of silver pieces (2) while she took the box in her telekinetic grip. “This experiment is just gonna… remain grounded.”

She nodded to Scootaloo. “I guess I still need somepony to bop me on the back of the head now and then. Thanks for the advice.”

“No problem, I only charge a bit for wisdom.” Scootaloo smirked. “But the first is free.”

“Very reasonable.” Twilight Sparkle settled the box between her wings. “So the scuttlebutt around town is that you’re training to fly again.”

Scootaloo scrunched up her nose. “Did you actually hear that from Mister Scuttlebutt, or do you mean—?”

Twilight snorted. “Come on, I’m the Princess of Friendship. Give my social awareness some credit.” She tilted her head and knitted her eyebrows. “How’s that coming along?”

Scootaloo tapped her forehooves together. “About like you’d expect, given the last few attempts.”

Twilight blew a breath through her nose. “You know, at this point I’d almost recommend a full magic examination. Something doesn’t fit. What I’ve gathered from your magic output is astounding; there’s no reason I can see that you shouldn’t be—”

“Easy. It’s not like I’m giving up anytime soon.” Scootaloo rolled onto her back, leaning her head over the armrest. “Those docs won’t find anything you haven’t seen already. I’m sure of it.”

Twilight lowered her eyebrows. “You know, if you wanted a little help, I know a spell that can conjure up a pair of nice—”

“Butterfly wings?” Scootaloo snickered. “Thanks for the offer, Twilight, but wings of gossamer and morning dew won’t hold up to a scooter ride, much less the kind of flying it takes to keep up with Rainbow Dash.”

Twilight closed her eyes and chuckled. “Fair enough. But it would go with your cutie mark.”

Scootaloo looked at the crazy purple butterfly on her rump. “Well, you got me there. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Twilight pulled a pocket watch out of Nowhere. “Two o’clock. Three hours until the city council meeting tonight. Can I expect to see you in the audience, Davenport?”

The stallion had gone back to attempting to organize his stock. He marked off a ticket for Silver Spoon with the pencil in his mouth, then turned to Twilight. “Yup. Me and Rose are gonna be listening in as usual. We brought tomatoes to throw in case Miss Mare gets uppity.”

Twilight grinned. “I’ll have Big Mac standing by to escort you from the premises.”

She looked over her shoulder. “How about you, Scootaloo? Planning on supporting your town?”

“Naw, I’m babysitting.” Scootaloo jumped over the side of the couch. “I’m staying with the Cake kids so that their parents and Pinkie can attend.”

“Fair enough,” Twilight said. “Then I’ll see you tonight, Davenport, and I’ll see you later, Scootaloo.”

She paused at the door, hesitant to step out into the blustering wind. “And I’m rooting for you, Scootaloo.”

“Thanks,” Scootaloo said. “That means a lot.”

With the princess departed, Davenport turned to Scootaloo. “I’m sorry, Kid. We’d get you a full exam if we could afford it, but—”

“But the insurance won’t cover it without some big disaster.” Scootaloo hugged him from the side. “I know, Dad. Besides, what would it be able to tell me besides ‘You’re overflowing with magic, but still can’t fly’?”

“Well…” Davenport shrugged. “There’s always a hope.”

Scootaloo smirked. “I’ve got more than hope, Dad. I’ve got a goal.”

Scootaloo winced as the wind blew another splash of rain into her eyes. She held her hoof up and held back a smattering of the globs with magic, but most of them were moving too fast. Despite the rain cloak, the hefty hood and hat, and the big, hulking, Apple family-style galoshes, she was still getting soaked to the bone.

Lightning flashed a little too bright, and thunder boomed a little too close.

She huddled against the door to Sugarcube Corner and pounded it with her hoof. She saw somepony run across the street a few feet from her, almost carried aloft by the gale. He grasped a streetlamp and dragged himself into a nearby shop. She shivered for a moment before thumping the door again.

“Sorry! Sorry!” a bright voice said from inside. “I’m coming! Rice, don’t eat that! Pound, get your brother off of the cash register! The silly goof doesn’t know that those coins aren’t chocolate!”

The door opened outward, and Pinkie Pie beamed at Scootaloo. “Oh good, you’re alright. I was starting to worry. Come in before you melt!”

Scootaloo ducked into Sugarcube Corner’s dining area with a laugh. “I’m not made of sugar, Pinkie.”

Pinkie Pie rushed to a mirror she’d hastily set up on a table. She daubed her eyelid with mascara, but not before poking herself with the brush. “Ouch! C’mon, muscle memory, don’t fail me now.”

Without looking up from her makeup, Pinkie rattled off to Scootaloo, “Pound’s done with his homework, but Pumpkin still has a dozen or so problems to work through. Story problems. Nasty stuff. Patty plans on whupping a dragon tonight, so you’ll wanna look through the dress-up stuff. Gummy can help with that one. I whipped up a casserole, and you’re welcome to help yourself at suppertime. Rice’s bottle is in the fridge. You know how to heat it up. I’ve picked out a few appropriate titles for bedtime story time, so we don’t get another week-long nightmare.”

Pinkie Pie turned to Scootaloo, narrowed her eyes, and pointed a hoof at the pegasus. “I will know if you read them Daring Do, this I swear.”

Scootaloo gave her a half-grin. “Pound and Pumpkin thought it was cool…”

“So did Patty,” Pinkie sighed. Her lips parted as she checked her teeth. “Wild death traps are still a little much for a four-year-old at bedtime, though. She’s a tough little pegasus, but…”

“I know,” Scootaloo said. “It won’t happen again. Don’t worry about it. I usually only make a mistake once.”

Pinkie’s ear twitched. “Pound, Rice is trying to eat the bits again!”

“On it, Pinkie!” Pound shouted from the other room.

“And keep him with you this time!” Pinkie’s muzzle scrunched up. “By my guestimate, Rice is approximately three weeks until a full-blown magic burst. Batten down the hatches, my friend. You may see some silly stuff tonight.”

Pinkie Pie gave herself another once-over, nodded in satisfaction, and hugged Scootaloo close. “And thanks.”

“Hay, no problem, Pinkie.” Scootaloo squeezed back. “You know I love watching them.”

Pinkie held her at leg’s length. Her smile sparkled. “I know. I love them, too.” Her grin grew lopsided. “I just wish I could spend more time with them nowadays.”

She pulled an overcoat, colored bright pink, around her shoulders. “But alas, I must go. My people need me!” She shook her head, causing her bouncy curls to bob. “Or at least Applejack does. Really, really does. Bye, kids!”

The Cake children stampeded into Sugarcube Corner’s storefront. Pound hopped over the tables with his little brother on his back. Patty skidded on the tiled floor at a gallop. Pumpkin walked through a wall, her horn glowing bright blue. One by one, they embraced Pinkie.

Pinkie Pie, Personal Aide to Lord Mayor Applejack, rushed out the door and into the storm.

Scootaloo staggered as she was tackled by the four Cake foals. “Whoa! Hay, guys! What’s happening?”

“Can we play dress up?” Patty Cake asked. “Can we play it right now?”

“I wanna show you how good I’ve gotten at the exercises,” Pound said.

“Can you help me with this really tricky problem?” Pumpkin scraped a hoof along the floor.

Rice sucked on Pound’s ear.

“Tell you what,” Scootaloo said. “Patty, you go get a couple outfits picked out for us while I see if I can help Pumpkin. Pound, you look after Rice until I get a chance to check out your techniques.” She winked at him. “But I’m pretty sure you’ve aced them.”

Pound blushed beet red. “Y-yeah, I hope so.”

Pumpkin led Scootaloo to the kitchen table while Patty rushed up to the playroom. She walked through the door. Scootaloo wasn’t quite watching where she was going, so she bumped her nose against the wood.

Pumpkin opened the door with a sheepish grin. “Sorry. I keep forgetting that other ponies need to do that.”

“Geeze.” Scootaloo tapped the door, noting that it was still as solid as it ever was. “Where’d you learn to do that, anyway?”

“Where do you think?” Pumpkin said. “Playing with Pinkie Pie. I guess I just wanted to see if I could do it. And I did.”

They pulled chairs up to the kitchen table. Scootaloo looked over the papers. “So is this your last week for the summer?”

“Nope, next week is.” Pumpkin leaned back in her seat. “Then we finally get summer vacation.”

“Sweet.” Scootaloo read the problem that was giving Pumpkin trouble. She read it again. And again. “Uh huh. Uh huh.”

Pumpkin read the problem aloud. “‘Manehattan and Baltimare are sixty miles apart. Train A goes fifty miles per hour. Train B goes thirty miles per hour. If the two trains leave Manehattan and Baltimare at the same time, at what distance from Baltimare do they pass each other?’” She let her chin drop to the table. “Never, because the stupid conductors let them get on the same track so they collided and exploded.”

Scootaloo picked up a pencil in her mouth. “It’s gonna be a long couple of weeks, huh?”

“Yup.”

Gummy had grown a bit over the years. He was about a meter long, but still didn’t seem to have a single tooth in his maw. He survived off the wet dog food Pinkie purchased from the pet supplier in town. He sucked on it before gulping down the remainder. Ponies had expressed concern that the poor dear was going to have problems if he couldn’t chew his food, but Pinkie remarked that his stomach juices were strong enough to digest metal. That tended to end the conversation.

The alligator lay on his back, his toothless mouth hanging open, as little Patty Cake stood atop his belly. Her dress was made out of a variety of discarded bits of sewn-together cloth, leaving her a patchwork princess. She held a wooden wand in her mouth, which she pointed at his head. “Now you’re my friend, you big, bad dragon! You have to help me put the castle back together!”

Scootaloo cheered from among the wooden blocks that the “dragon” had knocked down. The feather on her conical hat wafted to and fro. “All hail Princess Patty! Hero of the land!”

Rice giggled as he sucked on the knight’s shield he’d carried into battle.

Gummy rolled over and picked up a block in his mouth. He set it gently on top of another as Patty rode on his back. “We’re gonna build it bigger to keep out the Booze!”

Scootaloo choked on her own spit holding back a guffaw. “Don’t you mean ‘the Smooze,’ my lady?”

Patty jumped off of Gummy, ran up to Scootaloo, and flared her wings out. “The Booze is a jillian times worse than the Smooze! I stopped the dragon so that he could help fight it!”

Scootaloo looked at the alligator that was dutifully rebuilding the castle. She bopped the little cardboard horn on Patty’s head. “Even the princess needs help to save the kingdom, huh?”

“Uh huh!” Patty held her head high as she stared into the misty, unknown world of the playroom. “If she doesn’t have friends, a princess can’t do her job to protect her kingdom! Pinkie said so.”

“Pinkie’s a very wise pony,” Scootaloo said. “I think she knows what she’s talking about.”

Patty turned around. She tilted her head and pouted her lips. “Do you wanna be a princess when you grow up?”

Scootaloo shook her head. “Nah, I always wanted to be an awesome flyer like Rainbow Dash.” She ruffled Patty’s blue mane. “Besides, I already am grown up.”

She knelt down to the filly’s level, her hat’s feather covering one eye. “Why? Do you wanna be a princess when you grow up?”

Patty performed several rapid nods. “Uh huh! I wanna wear pretty dresses and live in a castle and fight monsters!” She tilted her head. “Or maybe a firefighter.”

She waved her wand at Gummy. “Higher, dragon! We have to keep out the gross, smelly, evil—”

Scootaloo whipped off her hat and covered herself with a blanket. “Nothing can stop… the Booze!”

Rice squealed with delight and wacked her with his shield.

Patty yelped and jumped to the top of Gummy’s tower. She lifted her wand and shook sparkles off the end. “Go away, Booze! The Princess of Cake banishes you!”

“Without friendship,” Scootaloo growled, “you are nothing against me!”

Thunder crashed outside the window. The inside lights dimmed as lightning flashed through the curtains. The house was plunged into near-darkness in an instant.

Patty screamed at the top of her lungs and fell off the tower. Scootaloo scooped her out of the air with her wings. She reached out and held the weeping Rice close to her chest. Gummy trundled between the ponies and the window and growled quietly.

Scootaloo rocked the foals until they quieted down. “Hay, it’s okay. The storm’s not gonna hurt you. Easy. Easy. I’m right here, and you’re safe.”

Pound opened the door to the playroom and shook his DoubleJoy Boy. “Hay, what happened to the magic? I was in the middle of level ten!”

Scootaloo shushed him with a hoof to her mouth. “Lightning must have disrupted the magic flow through the house. You know you’re not supposed to use that stuff during a storm.”

“Well, there wasn’t that much lightning.” Another bolt flashed, causing Pound to jump. “Until now.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. She set the little ones on her back and covered them with her wings. “Whatever. Get your sister and we can have supper.”

Patty’s pink wings trembled. “Don’t wanna have supper.”

Scootaloo smiled. “A princess needs to eat to keep up her strength. You can’t fight monsters if you’re not big and strong.”

“Not big and strong.” Patty buried her head in Scootaloo’s neck. “Little and scared.”

Scootaloo’s mouth dipped down. She shooed Pound ahead with her hoof, and then nuzzled Patty. “Hay, it’s okay.”

“No, s’not.” Patty pulled her tail to her chest. “Scared of thunder.”

Scootaloo looked at the little pegasus for a long moment. “Did you ever hear the story of how to giggle at the ghostly?”

“No.”

“Rainbow Dash told me about it. It was just after they met Twilight.”

“Princess Twilight?”

“Well, she wasn’t a princess, yet.”

“Oh.”

Scootaloo tilted her head. “All of them—Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Rarity—were traveling through the Everfree Forest to try to find the Elements of Harmony.”

Patty tilted her head. “How could Twilight go into the Everfree if she wasn’t a princess?”

“She had to,” Scootaloo said. “Otherwise Nightmare Moon would make the night last forever!”

Patty gasped. “That’s mean!”

“Yeah, it is. They were walking through the forest, when all of the sudden, a tree opened its mouth and growled at them!”

“Trees don’t have mouths.”

“They do in the Everfree.”

“Whoa.”

“Everypony was scared! They all ran away to hide, but there were scary trees everywhere! Rainbow Dash screamed, Twilight covered her head, and they all gathered together in a group hug.”

Patty hugged her tail tighter. Scootaloo reached over her to pick Rice up in her foreleg. “Do you know what happened?”

Patty’s head came up. “Princess Twilight beat up the trees?”

Scootaloo giggled. “No. Pinkie Pie started making faces at them.” She stuck her tongue out and made a “ffrt” sound. “The trees were just a spooky trick, and Pinkie showed the other girls that if you just laughed at the scary thing, it wasn’t so scary anymore.”

Rice sucked on his hoof. Drool dribbled down his cheeks as he stared wide-eyed at Scootaloo. She ticked his horn, and he giggled.

“Pinkie saved them,” Patty said. Her forehead wrinkled. “Did they beat up any monsters?”

Scootaloo shook her head. “Nope.”

The house shook as another thunderbolt struck. Patty covered her eyes. “I’m still scared.”

“Maybe we need to do like Pinkie does.” Scootaloo forced a laugh, “Ha, ha, ha.”

“Ha, ha—” Patty squeaked as lightning flashed.

“Boom!” Scootaloo blew raspberries into Patty’s stomach. The filly giggled.

“Boom!” Rice said. He pressed his lips together and blew bubbles.

Scootaloo and Patty both laughed at him. The next time a shockwave hit the house, they all wiggled their tongues and blathered.

Pound and Pumpkin sat at the table. They stared quietly at the grown pegasus mare and the two young foals making faces at each other. Pumpkin leaned on her hoof. “Well, it finally happened. Time to contact the institute.”

“Pumpkin!” Pound hissed.

“Cool it, you two,” Scootaloo said. She set Patty down in her chair and strapped Rice into his highchair. “I’ll get Rice’s milk fixed up and set out Pinkie’s casserole.” She grinned at Pound. “You can show me your progress after supper.”

Pound puffed his chest out. “I’ll help you in the kitchen.”

“Sure, why not?” Scootaloo tilted her head at Pumpkin. “Keep an eye on these two?”

Pumpkin threw a mock salute.

Scootaloo and Pound walked into the kitchen, where the colt took to the air. He wheeled around the room easily, pulling plates out of cupboards and stacking them on his forelegs. Scootaloo lit the stove and set a pot of water on top. Once it was warm, she pulled it off the stove and stuck the bottle of formula inside.

Pound flicked the stove off. “Have you figured out how to fly, yet?”

“Nadda.” Scootaloo squirted her foreleg to test the bottle’s temperature. She nodded, satisfied. “Not gonna stop me trying.”

“Nah.” Pound gathered up some silverware. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“Me, too.” Scootaloo looked up as he winged by overhead. “Doesn’t look like anything’s slowing you down!”

“N-nope.” Pound stuttered. “Your instructions are really awesome.”

Scootaloo waited until he’d returned from setting the table. “Maybe you’re a future Wonderbolt, huh?”

“Oh. Um. Probably not.” He pulled the casserole out of the oven. “I kinda wanna be a baker like my mom, dad, and Pinkie.”

“That’s cool,” Scootaloo said. She grabbed the other side of the casserole when it wobbled in his grip. “That’s really cool. What do you like to bake?”

“Doughnuts.” Pound walked backwards towards the table. “Doesn’t get any better than doughnuts.”

Scootaloo shifted the weight of the pan to lean more heavily on her end. “I hear doughnuts make it hard to fly.”

Pound’s ears tilted down for a second, before jumping back up. “Ha. But if you eat enough doughnuts to drag you down, you clearly aren’t savoring them enough.”

She laughed. The windows rattled, drawing her ear to them. “I think we’d better set up sleeping bags in the basement. I don’t like how the wind sounds against the windows.”

Pound nodded as they set the pan down on the table. “Do you want me to get the stuff ready?”

Scootaloo waved a hoof. “Naw, let’s eat. Then we can see your exercises. Then we can get the stuff set up. Priorities, man!”

Scootaloo sat at the head of the table and clasped her hooves together. She bowed her head while the kids mimicked her stance. “Blessed are You, the Creator, King of the Universe, who taught us to bring forth bread from the earth.”

Pound flapped one wing. “Never mind that none of us here are earth ponies.”

“Old habits die hard, dude.” Scootaloo reached towards the casserole with a knife and cut out large slices. “Dig in, guys. Pinkie made it, so you know it’s the good stuff!”

Some time of quiet eating was broken by Patty speaking up. “Do you love Rumble?”

Scootaloo’s tail flicked. “Why do you ask that?”

“’Cuz Lackadaisy said she saws you kiss him.” Patty’s wide, innocent eyes sparkled. “Are you gonna marry him?”

Scootaloo took a big bite. “We’re barely even dating. It’s way too early to say.”

“Mommy says only kiss somepony you wanna marry,” Patty said. “Do you wanna marry him?”

Scootaloo slowly, steadily, carefully took a bite and chewed it one hundred times. She smirked as she watched the little filly squirm. “Maybe,” she said at last.

“That’s not an answer!” Patty squealed.

“It is for now.” Scootaloo twirled her spoon in the air. “It isn’t like the storybooks where a guy saves you from the monster and you live happily ever after. It’s learning about each other.”

Pound gave his plate a glum look. “Yeah. We figured.”

Scootaloo lifted an eyebrow. “So you put Patty up to this.”

“We did,” Pumpkin said. “You know nopony tells us anything. We have…” She squinted. “Ways of finding things out. Direct interrogation is just one of them.”

Scootaloo leaned her elbow on the table. “Oh really? What are the other ones?”

Pumpkin patted the bottom of her poofy pigtails. “Oh, you know; eavesdropping, bribery, generally being really darn cute, but that part’s just me and my sis.”

“I help!” Patty said.

Scootaloo looked from Patty to Pumpkin. “What about Rice? He’s cute.”

“He’s ‘baby’ cute.” Pumpkin swallowed her casserole. “We’re ‘little girl’ cute.”

“They tell me it’s a big difference,” Pound mumbled.

Scootaloo leaned back in her chair. “Alright then. When we’re done eating, the ‘little girl cute’ girls can help me clean up while Pound watches the ‘baby cute’ baby.”

“What?” Pumpkin slumped in her chair. “Fine.”

She picked at her food. “Since you’re changing the subject, I think I know how to get you to fly.”

Scootaloo stuffed her half-chewed mush in her cheek. “How’zat?”

Pumpkin tilted her fork back and forth on the table. She nibbled her bottom lip. “Do you think Discord would help?”

Scootaloo laughed right from her belly, until the food in her cheek got caught in her throat. She hacked and coughed until she could breathe again. “Discord? The Discord?”

Pound scowled. “Gotta say, Sis, that isn’t the best idea you’ve had all day.”

Pumpkin crossed her forelegs. “I’m serious! The guy has magic like you wouldn’t believe, maybe even more than the princesses. He can do all these crazy things and he’s just sitting in Fluttershy’s cottage, twiddling his thumbs. He’d probably be happy for something to do.”

“Yeah, but…” Pound waved his spoon around. “He’s Discord. Asking for help is asking for trouble.”

“Mommy says Fluttershy says he says he’s a nice guy, now,” Patty piped up. She sat back, satisfied with her contribution to the conversation.

“Well, he is nice.” Pumpkin stared at her hooves. “He fixed my squeaky chicken when she lost her squeaker.”

The table was silent for a good, long moment.

“You talked with Discord?” Pound asked. “Did you tell anypony?”

“No.” Pumpkin shuffled in her seat. “He said something about keeping his charitable deeds secret. Whatever that means.”

“It means he’s sneaking around, like usual.” Scootaloo shrugged. “I dunno, Pumpkin. It seems like a pretty iffy thing.”

Pumpkin shoveled a large bite into her mouth. “He never shuts up about the time he took off Rainbow Dash’s wings. If he can take them off and put them back on again, can’t he do the same to help you?”

Scootaloo swallowed hard. “What you’re talking about is both crazy and scary.”

Pumpkin shrugged. “Aren’t you running out of other choices?”

“I think I gotta run out of all my other choices before I choose that one.” Scootaloo spread her wings. “I mean, it’s Discord!”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Pumpkin tilted her head back and waited. “You can’t think of any other reason besides ‘It’s Discord,’ can you?”

“Sounds good enough to me,” Pound said.

Pumpkin turned her chair and glowered at the wall.

Scootaloo watched her pout, tapping the table idly. She leaned her head back and gave the ceiling an accusing glare. “Alright, you know what? You’re probably really actually right. A little.”

Pumpkin looked at Scootaloo out of the corner of her eye.

“I appreciate the thought, Pumpkin,” Scootaloo said. “I think… I’ll talk to him about it. I’m gonna be seeing him tomorrow anyway, so it wouldn’t hurt to get his perspective, would it?”

A smile tugged at Pumpkin’s mouth. “You mean it?”

“Sure! What could it hurt?” Scootaloo folded her wings against her back. “It’s not like he can do anything to me without permission. He’d have to answer to the princesses for that.”

Patty Cake’s wings fluttered. “They’d beat him but good!”

“Yeah, totally.” Scootaloo stacked her plate on top of Patty’s. “Who knows? This could be a good thing.”

Pumpkin wiggled down into her sleeping bag as Pound performed wing-ups. Scootaloo circled around him, examining his posture.

“Keep your back straight or you’ll hurt it. Make sure your wings don’t twist. You’re doing great! Keep it up!”

Pound reached the peak of his wing-up. “Twenty!” He slumped to the ground. “That’s… about it.”

“Great improvement!” Scootaloo set him on his hooves. “You’re on your way to being one of the best fliers I know. Go on, get your teeth brushed.”

He trotted away, a big grin on his face.

Scootaloo looked over at Patty, who was wrapped head-to-tail in blankets and sleeping soundly. A little further away, she had set up Rice’s cradle, where he was babbling in foalspeak to the ceiling or anypony who would listen. Occasionally, whenever he heard a rumble of thunder, he would shout “Boom!” and giggle.

Pumpkin hugged her squeaky chicken tight. “Scootaloo?”

Scootaloo sat next to the filly. “Yeah? ’Sup?”

“Why do you want to fly so bad?” Pumpkin asked.

Scootaloo pursed her lips. “Huh. Huh, you know, that really should be the easiest question in the world to answer.”

Pumpkin squeaked her chicken. “It’s not?”

“Well, it kinda is.” Scootaloo brushed her mane back. “Long story short: It’s super-awesome. Short story long: It’s…”

Her eyes unfocused. “Every time I saw a pegasus wing by overhead, I got this feeling. This need. My heart… my magic wanted to be up there. I need to go fast. I need to fly high. I need that rush.”

“So you’re an adrenaline junky.”

Scootaloo snorted. “How do you even know what that means?”

Pumpkin shrugged.

“Anyway,” Scootaloo said, “it really is the coolest thing ever. When I first saw Rainbow Dash fly into town, it was like, ‘I wanna do that.’ I want to do those tricks, to fly that fast, to be that awesome. Now, though, I don’t wanna be exactly like Rainbow Dash.” She winked. “She can’t ride a scooter to save her life, after all.”

Pumpkin giggled. “You’re the best at that.”

“Don’t forget it. But I guess the long answer is the same.” Scootaloo spread her wings. “How awesome is flying? Way awesome.”

Pumpkin yawned as she settled into her bag. “I really hope you get to fly. It’s no fair if you don’t.”

“Me, too.” Scootaloo patted Pumpkin’s head. “And you know what? I’m gonna keep believing until I finally get up there.”

Pound walked down the staircase into the basement. “So that’s the big inspirational speech, huh? ‘I love flying because flying is cool.’” He gave her a sheepish grin.

Scootaloo chucked his shoulder. “Good night, Smarmy.” She rubbed her eyes as she trotted past him. “Sweet dreams. I’ll keep an eye out for your parents.”

Pound’s smile faltered as he nodded. “Good night, Scootaloo.”

Do I Need to Spell it Out for You?

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The air smelled nice after a good storm. Earthy. Damp. Cool. As long as she stepped around worms in the road, Scootaloo enjoyed the post-storm pickup. Gather branches that fell on the ground, sweep off the porch, dry the clothes left on the clothesline…

And then repair the lightning damage. Lightning rods were an excellent precaution on rooftops. Every building in Ponyville had one, and they’d saved many homes from utter destruction. Not everything had a lightning rod, though. The wagon parked outside of Quills and Sofas, for instance, did not.

Scootaloo kicked the pile of burnt wood. “So much for the Scootsmobile.”

“Coulda been worse,” Apple Bloom said. She hefted a few pieces into the Apple family’s market cart. “Th’ fahr coulda spread to yer house before the rain put it out.”

“Yeah, or it could have been loaded with griffon spark powder.” Scootaloo tossed a blackened board on top of the others. “Or hay, at least it was lightning and not, say, a dragon attack. We could spend all day thinking of worse worst-case scenarios.”

“Okay, okay, don’t get yer feathers fluffed.” Apple Bloom hitched herself to the cart. “It’s just a wagon. We can build another.”

Scootaloo sat down. “I liked this old cart. May she rest in pieces.”

“Heck, ah’ll even let yah paint the next one.” Apple Bloom tapped her chin. “You think Sweetie’d go fer flame decals?”

“Do we wanna jinx another cart?” Scootaloo asked. “’Cause a flame paintjob after the last cart burnt down is kinda jinx-y.”

“Better ’n lightnin’ bolts.” Apple Bloom snickered. “See yah at the theater tonight.”

“Yeah, see yah.” Scootaloo watched her walk away, the debris in tow. Once she was gone, the pegasus leaped onto the roof of Quills and Sofas to brush the gunk out of the gutters and the junk off of the shingles.

With that job complete, Scootaloo noted the position of the sun as it peeked through the clouds. Two-o’-clock. Sweetie Belle would be closing her shop in a half-hour to get an early start to the evening. Specifically, the three-thirty show time.

Scootaloo flicked her scooter, and it unfolded with a snap. She didn’t really need to take it out for the short ride to Carousel Boutique, but she felt the need to get some wind beneath her wings. She did a doughnut in front of the shop, kicked off the back of the scooter, and let it fold up onto her back. She almost knocked before walking in by force of habit. The “open” sign brought her back to her senses.

Nopony was in the front room. The whole shop felt hushed as Scootaloo stepped inside. Even the bell that jingled when closed the door behind her sounded quiet. “Sweetie, are you in here? Are you home?”

She walked over to the waiting area and sat on one of the comfy seats. A new delivery of fashion magazines sat on the table, still held together with string. Scootaloo snapped the string with her teeth and arranged the magazines in what she thought was a nice pattern. She placed the one with Rarity’s face on the cover in the middle. From the looks of the article blurbs, she was doing very well for herself in Canterlot. Obnoxiously well. Designing-dresses-for-the-princesses well.

Scootaloo figured it was only a matter of time before Sweetie Belle appeared on a cover, too.

Her ears twitched at the sound of a voice. It didn’t rise above the hush of the shop, but added to it. It whispered as though it was afraid to be heard.

“Sweetie?” Scootaloo stood and walked around the room. The voice was coming from the back of the Boutique, the inspiration room. “Sweetie? You in there?”

She pressed her ear against the door and listened.

“There’s a tale that’s long been told
Of three friends in days of old
Who could not be torn apart
From the song within their heart”

Scootaloo eased the door open. Sweetie Belle stood in the middle of the room, levitating bits and pieces of fabric. Her eyes squinted over her frameless glasses as she threaded a needle. It swam through the fabric on the ponnequin, cinching it together. Her voice sang clearly as she worked, even if she kept it almost too quiet to hear.

“With her strong hooves on the ground
And her head within the clouds
She stood like a mountain tall
Holding out her love for all”

Scootaloo put one hoof in the room. She tripped on the trim separating the hardwood floor from the linoleum-floored showroom. Her hoof came down with a clomp, startling Sweetie.

The unicorn dropped the needle and jumped back. “Scoot—Scootaloo! What are you doing here?”

“I came to pick up Fluttershy’s dress for delivery.” Scootaloo smirked. “Why? What are you doing here?”

Sweetie patted a cloth against her forehead. “Apparently being stalked by one of my best friends. You could have knocked.”

“Sorry. The sign outside said ‘open,’ so…” Scootaloo shrugged. She walked over to the ponnequin and looked over its flowing blues and subtle yellows. “This the birthday dress?”

“No, that’s a… special project.” Sweetie lit her horn and dragged a plain brown box between them. “This one should be to the draconequus’ liking.”

“Sweet.” Scootaloo strapped the box to her back. She gave Sweetie a sideways hug. “See you at the theater tonight?”

“Of course, I always keep my appointments.” Sweetie nuzzled her cheek. “Don’t let Discord give you any horseapples, okay?”

“Tisk, Sweetie, such language.” Scootaloo laughed and trotted toward the door. She turned around halfway. “So was that a new song you’ve been working on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sweetie focused her gaze on the dress and returned to working on it.

“The song you were singing when I walked in.” Scootaloo extended a wing towards her. She smiled. “The one about the three nonspecific friends?”

Sweetie lowered her head. “They’re specific,” she whispered.

Scootaloo dipped her head down to try to catch Sweetie’s eyes. “Hay. It’s awesome that you’re writing songs again.”

“I’m not—” Sweetie waved a hoof. “It’s just an old one I never finished. Probably never will.” She gave a clock on the wall a pointed look. “Now unless I miss my guess, you’ve only got an hour to deliver that and get ready for the movie.” She danced her eyebrows. “And your date. Better hurry.”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes, spread her wings and ran for the door. She skidded on the linoleum as she came to a stop. She took a deep breath in. “Sweetie.”

“What?” Sweetie weaved a complex stitch into the garment. “Did I forget something?”

“Not really… kinda… maybe…” Scootaloo’s face scrunched up. “Just… Remember the promise you made to yourself?”

Sweetie’s eyes rolled to the left. “Um, wash my mouth so that I don’t scare away customers with my breath?” She shrugged.

“No, I mean the really big promise,” Scootaloo said. “You know, the really, really big promise.”

Sweetie’s mouth opened, but she stopped short of answering. She frowned as she looked at her cutie mark. The image of a silver bell sat on her flank, surrounded by music notes. Her horn sparked as she removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “No, Scootaloo, I didn’t forget. It’s just—”

“Hard,” Scootaloo said. “Believe me, I know. We sort of got to the part where we stop finding out who we are and start working towards who we wanna be.”

Sweetie choked out a laugh. “You really are Rainbow Junior with these speeches, you know that?”

“Well, you know.” Scootaloo backed away. “When you’re ready to talk, just give me a holler.”

Sweetie nodded as Scootaloo opened the door. “I will. Thank you.”

As she walked past a window, Scootaloo could hear soft words drifting out of the Boutique.

“There the spark lit in her breast
Shining bright to all the rest—”

Trees zipped past Scootaloo as she raced at top speed through the outskirts of Ponyville. This was where the larger houses sat: Mansions, well-to-do family homes, the occasional royal estate, and the corporate office of Barnyards Bargains. Scootaloo flicked an ear at the moving wagon parked outside and heard to a brief snippet of an argument between Diamond Tiara and Filthy Rich.

She laid her ears flat and rolled on.

Past the outskirts, through the first little bit of Whitetail Wood, and across the creek sat a tiny little cottage. The cottage was home to all animals, great and small. It was a bastion for the ill, the weak, and the tired. It was a bright light in the darkness that was the wild. For many creatures, it was home.

The sun shined through the leaves, giving the scene a yellow tinge. A pegasus flew through the branches and deposited something in a bird’s nest before landing in front of Scootaloo.

Fluttershy brushed a sweat-slicked pink mane out of her face and spat out dirt. She smiled. “Hello, Scootaloo. How are you this fine afternoon?”

“Peachy, Miss Fluttershy.” Scootaloo left her scooter leaning against the mailbox. “You got stuff all cleaned up from the storm, yet?”

Fluttershy nodded with a squint of her eyes. “Of course. Discord is always such a big help cleaning up.”

“That seems…” Scootaloo wracked her brain for the right word. “Unintuitive.”

“Maybe it is, but he doesn’t really clean up the mess.” Fluttershy motioned her closer. She whispered in her ear. “Don’t tell him I figured it out, but he just moves the mess into his private chaos room. It’s his way of keeping things in disorder.”

Scootaloo looked at Fluttershy’s cottage. “Chaos room? In there?”

“No, no, of course not.” Fluttershy pointed to a tall building close by. “Mister Wheatly didn’t leave his windmill to anypony when he died, so the city put it up for sale. Discord lives in there most of the time.”

“Aha. I guess I’d better head over there, then.” Scootaloo shifted the package on her back.

“Discord ordered something?” Fluttershy tilted her head. “What is it?”

“Just… something…” Scootaloo pressed her lips together. “Let’s call it a ‘surprise.’”

Fluttershy nodded slowly. “Not that I don’t trust Discord, but… what sort of surprise?”

“The good kind. Honest.” Scootaloo gave her a mock salute. “See you later, Miss Fluttershy. Have a good one.”

Fluttershy waved. “Take care of yourself, Scootaloo!”

A hop, skip, and a jump later, Scootaloo stood before the creaky old windmill. It rotated with the wind left over from the storm, turning the gears within. While once they had ground corn and flower, now they were little more than decoration. A few bare spots on the wall had been filled in with bricks and concrete, giving the impression that somepony had done some restoration to the aged structure. The wooden door was original, and creaked on its hinges as the locks clattered.

The door opened by itself. Scootaloo shivered.

It looked much bigger from the inside. A staircase spiraled upwards into nothing, while tiny bubbles rained from above. Flowers sprouted from rock, and the dirt floor waved as though it was water. Black light flickered in the windows, giving the white parts of her scooter a fluorescent glow. Her cutie mark, mane, and tail also took on a pastel purple shine.

“Scootaloo! What a surprise!” Discord exclaimed from all around. “I admit that I hoped Sweetie Belle would deliver the dress herself, but I won’t be too choosy when it comes to visitors!”

He inflated from the floor like a long, snaking balloon. He grinned with his snaggletooth and patted her on the head. “How’s my favorite chaos-causing pegasus crusader, hmm? Knock down any barns lately? Created a tornado that leveled the library again? Built a trebuchet that launched Sweet Apple Acres into orbit?”

Scootaloo brushed his talon off her mane. “No.”

“Splendid! Can’t let such terrible things happen to my closest friends!” He tapped his fingers together. “Speaking of such friends, is that it?”

Scootaloo handed him the package. His eyes sparkled as he held it aloft. “Excellent!” he said. “Fluttershy will be so surprised! I’m sure it’s as amazing as Rari— as Sweetie Belle promised.”

One horn glowed as he drew the dress through the brown box. It hung in the air, its reds and oranges shimmering in odd patterns in the black light. “Oh, she’ll look so nice. Don’t you think she’ll have a wonderful birthday?”

“Well, that’s sorta a question I had, Mr. Discord…” Scootaloo rubbed the back of her neck. “Fluttershy’s birthday was two months ago. You were there, I thought.”

Discord froze in place, as did the bubbles and the floor. He turned slowly to her and conjured up an ear trumpet. He stuck it in his ear. “Beg pardon?”

“Um.” Scootaloo stuck her snout into the flared end of the trumpet. “I thought Fluttershy’s birthday was two months ago. Weren’t you there?”

“Ha! You are, of course, quite mistaken. If I had been there I would have remembered…” Discord’s face dipped from haughty to concerned. “Giving her… a pendant?”

A scrapbook the size of Scootaloo appeared. He flipped through the pages until he landed on a picture of Fluttershy. It was dated to her birthday. “That’s not…” He flipped through the pages some more. “I can’t…” He snapped the book shut and tossed it into the sky, where it vanished from sight.

“Well of course I remember! I was just buying this for her next birthday. Or Hearth’s Warming. Or something.”

Scootaloo held her hooves up. “Hay, it’s okay if you just forgot. Lots of people—”

“I am a draconequus, Scootaloo. I have lived for thousands of years. I have forgotten more things than you’ll learn in several lifetimes!” He held a fist up and stared into a sunset that should not have been visible for another several hours. He lowered it as the black light returned. “I should not be forgetting a celebration from a scant few months ago.”

He rubbed his fingers together, summoning a crackle of energy. “Odd. Even for me, that’s odd.”

He narrowed his yellow eyes at Scootaloo. “What are you waiting for? A tip? Go back to Sweetie and tell her it was a job well done.”

“Well, it’s not exactly…” Scootaloo kept her wings pressed tight to her sides as she swallowed deep. “I got a question to ask you.”

“I think you mean a favor.” Discord giggled as he stretched the word out like a piece of taffy. “Go on, spit it out, what’s your problem?”

Scootaloo winced. “I didn’t really mean it like—”

“Do I look like an idiot? Don’t answer that.” Discord pulled a chalkboard down from Nowhere. There was a picture of Scootaloo, a picture of her flying complete with her flight trajectory, and finally a picture of her crashed face-first into the ground. “Anypony else would have thrown the package inside and run for it. Ponies don’t tend to hang around unless they need something.”

“I wasn’t gonna come to you either,” Scootaloo said. “But Pumpkin recommended you pretty highly.”

“Hmm.” Discord motioned for her to follow him up the staircase. As soon as she put her hoof down, the stairs climbed up by themselves. “Loose lips really do sink ships. I recall that particular daily good deed.” He flashed a glare. “Just like I recall most of what goes on around here. Pretty close to all of it, in fact.”

“Fine, fine. You remember.” Scootaloo spread her hooves out to keep herself steady. “So, you’re willing to help me fly?”

“In any way I can. I warn you that I’m no doctor.” Discord bounced a stethoscope like a yoyo. “They never sent me that mail-order medical degree, alas. I’ve had to make do with learning practically. Such as the time I removed—”

“Removed Rainbow Dash’s wings, I get it.” Scootaloo spread her wings and gave them a lazy flap. “It’s not exactly something I enjoy hearing about a million times.”

Discord turned around and continued to walk backwards. “What? When have we talked about it before?”

“Like every time we’ve run into each other this week.” Scootaloo’s eyebrows arched. “Are you feeling alright?”

Discord stared into empty space. “I’ll be right back,” he said as he splintered into glitter.

The stairs climbed forever, but she was at the top in a blink. She looked down where she came and was unable to reconcile the difference between the distance and the time spent traveling it. “This is Discord’s house alright.”

“Indeedadubitably,” Discord said. He pawed through the large scrapbook. “Yes, yes, yes, no, yes, no, yes.” He rubbed his chin and tossed the book into a fireplace. “Now, about your flying…”

Scootaloo pawed the ground. “You think you know a way to fix it? Is it even broken?”

“Scootalo, Scootaloo, Scootaloo, I haven’t even examined you yet.” The fireplace transformed into an easy chair, which Discord rested his tush in. “To have done so before, without your consent, would have been a violation of not only personal space, but of your own privacy.”

Scootaloo crossed her forelegs. “So whadda yah got?”

Discord’s neck grew to impossible lengths and craned his head down to her level. “Magic imbalance.”

Scootaloo backed away as fast as her hooves would take her. “W-what? Imbalance? Th-you-what?”

“Relax. Magic imbalance isn’t always a bad thing.” Discord counted down on his talons. “There’s an imbalance every morning sunrise, there’s an imbalance when Twilight teleports from Canterlot to Ponyville, there’s even an imbalance when Rainbow Dash performs a sonic rainboom.”

A sofa popped out from under Scootaloo and caught her in a cushion. A cup of hot chocolate appeared in her hooves. “But… but I thought imbalance was, you know, evil.”

Discord laughed and chuckled and guffawed, not necessarily in that order and probably all at the same time. “Imbalance just means that there’s more of one thing than there is of something else. In this case, magic. Don’t go telling me an imbalance in favor of fun is worse than equal parts fun and boring.”

He smirked. “True balance… is stagnation. True chaos… is destructive.”

Scootaloo scratched her mane. “So… you gotta find a balance between balance and no balance.”

“Precisely!” Discord held a finger up. He let it droop a moment later. “When you say it like that it sounds silly.”

“Okay,” Scootaloo said, “okay, but what does that have to do with flying?”

“Simply put, it’s exactly what I said,” Discord said. “You’ve got a magical imbalance.”

Scootaloo tapped her hooves together. “Is that a good imbalance or—?”

“I don’t know! I can only detect an imbalance, I can’t divine its source at first blush.” Discord popped the footrest of his chair up. “But we’ll have to talk about that later. I think you’ve got mere minutes until your date with Rumble.”

Scootaloo slurped up the last of her cocoa. “How the hay do you know about that?”

“I’m an outcast, Scootaloo. I’m not shunned.” Discord held up a framed picture of her rainbow tornado from Monday. “The grapevine trailed in here a time or two.”

Scootaloo stared at the picture. She snickered. “Public displays of affection are really public around here, I guess.”

“Quite.” Discord pulled a fedora over his eyes. “Run along now.

“And Scootaloo,” he added as she walked towards the stairs, “don’t tell anypony about our little forgetfulness talk.”

Scootaloo puffed her lower lip out. “The one where you told me in no uncertain terms that you weren’t forgetting stuff?”

“Look,” Discord said as he peeked out from under the hat. “I’ve been holding in chaos for ten, eleven years now. Maybe. It’s only natural that it’s started to seep into my brain.”

Scootaloo looked Discord up and down. “A magic imbalance in favor of chaos?”

“My, you catch on quick.” He snapped his fingers, and the doorway to the outside replaced the staircase. “When the chaos has nowhere it may go, it goes where it may. I’m sure it’s nothing big.”

Scootaloo put her hoof on the door. “What happens if it keeps going? What happens a few years down the line?”

Discord steepled his fingers. He tapped the tips together, one at a time. “I suspect someday I won’t be me anymore.”

Scootaloo let her hoof slip to the ground. “What?”

“Given time, the chaos will take its toll and jumble my mind and body up so badly I won’t even know who I am.” He lowered the brim of his hat over his eyes. “It’s like I told you, Scootaloo, true chaos is destructive.”

“B-but…” Scootaloo ran up to him. “But there’s got to be a way to fix it! There’s gotta be a way to, I dunno, stop it or reverse it!”

“Of course there is,” Discord said. “All I have to do is take over Equestria and make it the Chaos Capitol of the World. Simple.” He raised an eyebrow at her slack-jawed expression. “Don’t give me that look, I’m not going to do it. I can’t.” He flapped his wings and flew off of the chair. It morphed back into a fireplace, from which he drew the book. “For the sake of six mares, I can never.”

He paged through and showed her a picture of Applejack, Lord Mayor of Ponyville. “Did you know that Applejack shows love to me? She brings me red gala apples because she knows they’re my favorite. Pinkie Pie, too, she brings me Boston cream pie. Even after everything.”

He blinked. “And Fluttershy… Fluttershy never let me down, even after I let her down. Rainbow Dash actually invited me to her celebration for joining the Wonderbolts. Rarity talks with the nobleponies in Canterlot about me, shilling my ‘improved attitude.’ Twilight…”

Discord shook his head. “Twilight gave up her magic, the thing she loves most in the world, to save my life. I can’t repay that.”

“D—” Scootaloo swallowed hard. “Isn’t the windmill an outlet for your chaos?”

“This little corner of the universe? Not nearly enough.” Discord shut the book and tucked it away into Nowhere.

He tapped his chin. “You’re really late now. Don’t you need to get dressed or put on makeup or something?”

“Uh…” Scootaloo froze. “You think you could perform some magic mumbo jumbo and make me gorgeous?”

“Nope.” Discord held out empty hands. “I can’t just create stuff, Scootaloo. You can’t get something from nothing, and Celestia frowns on theft. Besides, Rarity has told me in no uncertain terms that my sense of style is ‘atrocious.’”

Magic lifted her bodily through the doorway. She shrieked as she was cast out of the windmill and onto the grass. Scootaloo looked at the doorway as the hinges creaked and the lock bolt clattered. The windmill spun in the breeze, turning the gears that she never saw a wink of the whole time she’d been inside.

“I’m never gonna get used to him, am I?”

A very short fifteen minutes later, Scootaloo trotted down the stairs in Quills and Sofas. She had managed to put on the proper eye shadow and lipstick, though that was gonna have to do as far as makeup was concerned. Her feathers were all in their proper places, her coat was brushed, and the skirt she’d pulled out of the closet flowed nicely when she walked.

Her dad greeted her at the bottom with a hug. “You have a good time tonight, Kid. Keep out of trouble.”

Scootaloo chucked his shoulder. “Yeah right.”

Davenport walked with her, his foreleg around her shoulders. “You’d better get a move on. Rumble got here a couple minutes ago and Rosie’s been keeping him company.”

“Mom?” Scootaloo cringed. “How’s she doing?”

“Not bad, just a few shivers.” Davenport gave Scootaloo a squeeze. “She just cares for you.”

“I know.” Scootaloo rushed forward. “Pegasus filly to the rescue!”

They came to the showroom, where Rumble was nervously sipping juice. He jumped up the instant he saw her. “Scootaloo! Hi! We should probably get going. The show’s almost starting.”

Roseluck set her own glass on the table slowly. She gave Scootaloo her best reassuring smile. “You two have a good time.”

Scootaloo gave her a nod, gave her dad a wink, and dragged Rumble into the street.

Rumble struggled for a second trying to keep his balance. A flap of his wings steadied his hooves, and he set out at a brisk walk through the town. “You’re beautiful.”

Scootaloo snorted. “I threw this look together in about ten minutes. You don’t get to call it beautiful.”

“If I thought the dress was the most beautiful thing about you, I would have said your dress was beautiful.”

Scootaloo blushed. “It’s not a dress, it’s a skirt.”

Rumble frowned. “What’s the difference?”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. She gave Rumble closer scrutiny. “Wow. You’re actually wearing a tux.”

Rumble was indeed wearing a black tuxedo, white shirt, and red bowtie. “I know we won’t be seeing much of each other in the theater, but I wanted to look nice for supper.”

“You look a little overdressed for Hayburger.”

“We aren’t eating at Hayburger.”

Scootaloo scrunched her nose up. Her eyes widened as she realized the restaurant where a tuxedo would be appropriate attire. “You didn’t—”

Rumble gave her a smug smile. “I did.”

“Are you even kidding me?” Scootaloo’s hooves did a nervous dance. “I am super-underdressed for the Silver Spoon Restaurant.”

“No you’re not.” Rumble nudged her with his shoulder. “I told you, you’re beautiful.”

Scootaloo ruffled her wings. “Maybe I feel underdressed. What do you think of that, huh?”

He kissed her cheek. The hair on the back of her neck stood up straight.

“I think it’s cute,” he said.

She smoothed the hair down, then straightened out her feathers as they almost-trotted. “I think you’re a doofus.”

“Nicest thing you’ve said all day,” he chuckled.

Scootaloo’s forehead scrunched up. She sighed. “Then, hay…”

She stood in front of him and put her hoof on his chest. She leaned forward and pressed her lips quickly, gently, against his. “Thanks.”

Rumble blinked as he stood still in the road. A goofy grin spread across his face. He let himself be led by the hoof the rest of the way to the cinema. A few figures were lined up outside.

“Hay, ’bout time the lovebirds got here,” Apple Bloom said. She wasn’t wearing any clothes, but there was an apple blossom in her mane. “You almost missed th’ three-thirty show.”

Sweetie Belle, on the other hoof, wore a simple, ruffled white dress. Her mane was slightly curlier than usual, and her face sparkled. “Rumble, I never thought I’d see you in a tuxedo.”

“Desperate times call for fancy clothes, Sweetie.” He looked down at Scootaloo. “So who got your free ticket?

“Where’s Spike at?” Scootaloo asked.

“He said he was gonna—there he is.” Apple Bloom pointed down the street.

Spike charged forward on all fours. He huffed when he got to them, his scaly chest heaving. “Sorry. Twilight. Abominations of science. Epic battle. Usual excuses.”

He reached to straighten the red bowtie on his neck. He and Rumble raised their eyebrows. “Nice tie,” they said simultaneously.

Apple Bloom jerked her head. “C’mon guys, all the good seats are gonna be taken if we wait any longer.”

“By the good seats,” Sweetie said, “I assume you are talking about the far back, where we can see everything on screen?”

“Naw, the front seats so we’re closest to the action!” Apple Bloom grinned. “Last time, I saw Russet Crow’s nose hairs during his big close-up!”

“Riveting,” Sweetie groaned.

“Clearly,” Spike said, “this calls for a middle-of-the-theater seat.”

Scootaloo snickered. “That way lies stagnation,” she said under her breath.

“What?” Rumble said.

“Ask me later.”

Sweetie led them into the cinema. She laid her ticket on the counter. “Just a lemon soda, please.”

A young stallion with a brown coat had his head in the popcorn maker. “Just a minute!” he called, his voice echoed by the glass walls. He scooped popcorn into a bucket, then returned to the counter. His eyes popped almost as much as the corn. “Sweetie!”

Sweetie Belle’s mouth moved without making a sound. Her throat constricted as she forced the word out. “Button? You work here?”

Button Mash’s spiky mane waved as he nodded. “Yeah! It’s pretty great. I’m gonna be getting lots of hours this summer, and I get to see the movies when I run the projector.” He shuffled around behind the cash register. “I didn’t expect you to ever come here. It’s not exactly high society.”

“Well…” She bit her lower lip and smiled. “A mare can be persuaded,” she giggled.

“Cool. I’m glad somepony talked you into having some fun.” He looked her ticket over. “Daring Do and the Quest for the Sapphire Stone? Really awesome movie right there.”

She shuffled in her change purse for bits. He placed the lemon soda in front of her. “Hay,” Button said, “your song Sunday was great. They always are, but, you know…”

Sweetie pushed her glasses up her snout. “Thank you. It was an old one, but a good one.”

She levitated two bits out of her purse, but he waved her off. “On the house. I hope you like the movie.”

“Thank you, Button.” She bobbed her head and hurried away.

“Do I get my popcorn on the house?” Spike asked with a laugh.

Button Mash tapped the cash register, making it ding. “Only if you eat it on the roof.”

Scootaloo tapped Sweetie on the shoulder as she passed. “What gives?” she whispered. “Just talk to him.”

Sweetie tried unsuccessfully to hide her blush. “I don’t think either of us are ready for—”

“I didn’t say propose to him,” Scootaloo said. “Talk to him.”

Sweetie brought her mouth close to Scootaloo’s ear. “When did you start giving me relationship advice?”

“When you started having relationship issues.” Scootaloo gave her a lopsided smile. “Do I need to spell it out for you? You’re spelling it out for everypony else.”

“Some other time.” Sweetie looked towards the clock. “We’re gonna miss the movie.”

Scootaloo spoke at a stage whisper as Sweetie walked away. “The movie you didn’t even want to see!”

“Shut up!” Sweetie hissed.

So What’s the Point?

View Online

“Best movie ever!” Apple Bloom skipped out of the cinema, her red locks bouncing around her face. “They got so many great actors an’ the sets were so lifelike an’ that action sequence was a blast an’ Ahuizotl was absolutely terrifyin’ an’—”

“I’ll admit it,” Sweetie Belle said. “Rainbow Dash played Daring Do far better than I would have given her credit for. Most ponies see Daring as an unflappable spouter of one-liners, but with Rainbow…” She shrugged. “With Rainbow, she seemed a bit more ‘pony.’ She actually looked terrified during the death trap scene. It lent a lot to the tension.”

“—an’ the music was better’n anything else ah’ve heard an’ the Caballeron cameo after the credits was super unexpected an’—”

“Did you know Rainbow Dash did her own stunts?” Spike said. “For the fight scenes, too. She’s pretty good at jiu shih tzu, I think.”

“She’s also a black-belt in carrote and hoofkwondo.” Scootaloo giggled as she trotted past. “And she’s not too bad at boxing.”

“—an’ then the whole temple was comin’ down around her an’ Ahuizotl was chasin’ her an’—”

Rumble circled in from behind Spike, his wings shaking. “I think I saw her practice kendown in her backyard with a griffon once.”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “Wait, isn’t that with swords? How’s it possible for a pony to hold a sword?”

“—an’ the romance was so sweet an’—” Apple Bloom stopped prancing at the same time her eyes crossed. “Hay, yeah, that sounds pretty wacky, right there.”

Rumble closed his eyes and held his hooves out. “I only know what I saw.”

“Must’ve been that Martial Paw character who’s been hanging around town.” Scootaloo shoveled the last of her popcorn into her mouth. “He said he’s a friend of Dash.”

“Haven’t met him.” Rumble reached for his tie and gave it a tug. “You ready to go, Scootaloo?”

Apple Bloom narrowed one eye. “Where’re you two headed?”

“Um…” Scootaloo and Rumbled exchanged a glance. She gave everyone a half-grin. “Rumble invited me to the Silver Spoon Restaurant.”

Spike blinked. He chuckled and danced his eyebrows at Rumble. “Well, well, well!”

Sweetie Belle touched her lips and smirked. “I’m guessing that wasn’t a reservation for five, was it?”

Scootaloo gave Rumble a sidelong glance. “I didn’t think so—”

“Nah, sorry.” He shuffled his front hooves. “I was just—”

“Relax, Sugarcube, them all ’re just teasin’ yah.” A small laugh jumped out of Apple Bloom’s mouth. “You two have fun, yah hear?” Her ears drooped down a little as she turned away. “See y’all later.”

“Hold up,” Spike said, tapping a finger on her shoulder. “I had this plan to take everypony to Sugarcube Corner to thank you for the free ticket.” He flicked his tail and gave Scootaloo a smarmy grin. “Since certain special ponies have somewhere else to be, I guess it’ll just have to be the three of us.”

Sweetie Belle bowed her head. “That’s rather gentlecoltly of you, Spike. I accept your invitation.”

Spike held his hand out to Apple Bloom. “Whadda yah say? Coming with?”

Apple Bloom stared at the claw, her cheeks tingeing pink. Her eyes met his as her mouth sought words. “Ah, Oh—okay. Sure.”

Spike took Apple Bloom’s foreleg in the crook of one elbow, and Sweetie Belle’s in the other. “Later, dudes. Us lowly peasants go to retrieve victuals.”

Scootaloo and Rumbled watched them amble off. She tilted her head. “You know, I think Spike could sweep a mare right off her feet if he tried. Why doesn’t he?” She nudged his shoulder with a wingtip. “You think he’s still hurting about the whole Rarity thing?”

Rumble grimaced and turned his head away. “I try not to gossip about my friends behind their back.”

“Right. Sorry.” Scootaloo’s wings lifted a little, covering her back. “That was pretty rotten.”

Rumble sucked on his bottom lip. “You ready to head out?”

“Sure.” Scootaloo lifted a hoof which, after a moment, she bumped against his leg. “Lead the way.”

They walked in silence the entire way to the restaurant. They reached it just as the sun sank beneath the horizon, and the streetlamps lit one by one. The outdoor seating of the Silver Spoon, surrounded by thick, green, healthy hedges, glowed from the light of various colorful paper lanterns.

“Wow,” Scootaloo said. “You timed this pretty stinking perfectly.”

“Yes. This was perfectly planned down to the second.” He forced a laugh. “What am I, a medium?”

“Maybe a moderate.” Scootaloo motioned him forward. “The tab’s in your name, right?”

“Yeah.” Rumble trotted briskly up to the maitre d’. “Reservation for ‘Rumble,’ please.”

The maitre d’s eyes widened. They narrowed. They flicked from the young stallion to the guest list and back again. “Oui. This way, monsieur.”

Scootaloo kept close to Rumble’s side as they walked to a table placed far from any hedge. “They know you here.”

“After my and Spike’s accident last year,” Rumble said, “part of repaying our debt was helping install the new ones. They got a real good look at me.”

Rumble pulled out a chair for Scootaloo to slide into. The maitre d’ made a point of removing the candles from the table. “Your server will be along momentarily. Please enjoy the complimentary water.”

Once he was gone, Scootaloo stifled a snort. “Yup, they know you pretty well around here.”

Rumble fidgeted in his seat. His cloth napkin was already in several knots.

“Hay,” Scootaloo said, “what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing.” Rumble shrugged his wings as his tail lashed behind him. “I’m just wearing a too-tight suit in the middle of the fanciest restaurant in Ponyville sitting across the table from you and I have no idea what to do now.”

“Uh...” Scootaloo smoothed her skirt down. “Don’t ponies talk on dates?”

“Y-yeah. That’s what I’ve heard. I just—” Rumble laid the napkin on the table and tried to undo the knot. “I just thought that getting it all set up was the hard part.”

“Hello, there! How nice to see the two of you here!” Silver Spoon herself walked up beside their table. “Don’t you make an adorable couple?”

Scootaloo hazarded a smile. “Uh, hay, Silver. How’s the whole ‘restaurant owner’ thing working for you?”

“It’s, like, the bomb. I don’t think we’ve had better business.” Silver gave Rumble a lingering look. “Once we got the hedges replaced, anyhow.”

Rumble cleared his throat and leaned forward. “You got the last check, didn’t you?”

“It arrived in the mail today,” Silver Spoon said. She rested a hoof on Scootaloo’s chair. “Rest easy, Scootaloo, your boyfriend is officially debt-free.”

“Great,” Scootaloo said with a plastic smile. “Awesome.”

Silver Spoon tittered. “Well, I hope you enjoy your night together. If you need anything, I’ll be at that table right over there.” She pointed to a table that held another mare, one with a pink coat, purple mane, and a shiny tiara on her head. “We’ll be sure to answer any needs you might have.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” Rumble about choked on his own spit. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Silver Spoon nodded and trotted back to her table. Scootaloo blew a breath through clenched teeth. “She still drives me nuts.”

“I think she does it on purpose.” Rumble tapped the table while his wings angled up behind him. “Hay, Scootaloo, there’s something I kinda need to—”

“Good evening. May ay take yoh ohdah?”

They both turned. Standing beside their table, in an even tighter-fitting tuxedo than Rumbles, was a giant of a pegasus. Muscled rippled beneath skin, veins bulged in his neck, and his small wings fluttered constantly on his back. He bared his teeth in a friendly sort of smile. “Would yoh like to staht with something to drink?”

Scootaloo looked way, way up. “I still need to look at the menu, Mister Biceps.”

“Please,” he said, his friendly sort of smile widening. “Mah friends call meh ‘Snowflake.’”

“Yeah…” Scootaloo tried to match his smile, but it faltered. “Um, lemonade sounds nice. Doesn’t lemonade sound nice?” Her purple eyes searched Rumble’s face.

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Two lemonades, please.”

“Vehry goood, ay will be bek with yoh drinks shortly.” He trotted off, rattling nearby tables with his hoofsteps.

Scootaloo leaned an elbow on the table. “Featherweight really missed out on the ‘muscle’ genes, didn’t he?”

“He keeps telling me he’s gonna get as big as his dad eventually, but…” Rumble shook his head. “So, um, how was your day?”

Scootaloo fluffed her feathers to get herself more comfortable in her seat. “You were gonna say there’s something you need to tell me.”

Rumble looked down. He had managed to get his napkin tangled up in the table cloth. He set about gently loosening it. “Yeah, I guess there was that.”

“Well, there you go,” Scootaloo said. “You’ve paid for the entertainment. You reserved the table. You’ve got your captive audience.” She brushed her forelock out of her face and smiled. “Go ahead. Spit it out.”

The ground shook as Snowflake landed beside them. He lowered two glasses of lemonade before them, alongside a new napkin for Rumble. “Are yoh redey to ohdah?”

“I’d like…” Scootaloo stuck her tongue out the side of her mouth and pointed at her menu. “The… Caesar salad, please. Hold the onions.”

(1): Mayonnaise, lettuce, and tomato sandwich.

“MLT sandwich (1) on wheat toast, please,” Rumble said.

“Vehry goood.” Snowflake removed their menus and flew off. “Eef yoh need anything, joost wave a hoof.”

The two fell silent. The restaurant had a quiet sort of noise about it. There was the occasional clink of silverware on china, the low murmur of conversation, and a small hum from the magic lanterns. Scootaloo’s tail flicked in time with a song in her head.

“I’m turning eighteen next year.”

Scootaloo’s ears swiveled forward. “What’d you say?”

“I’m turning eighteen next year.” Rumble’s new napkin was being tied up in one knot, untied, and retied in quick succession. “Full-fledged adult, for everything that matters.”

Scootaloo crossed her forelegs. “And what ‘matters,’ exactly?”

Rumble bit the inside of his cheek. “I’m gonna join the Guard, Scootaloo.”

“Oh.” Scootaloo’s hooves went to her lap. Her wings drooped as her face softened. “Oh, wow. That’s right. G-good for you.”

“Th-Thunderlane says he wants me to wait until I’m exactly eighteen to sign up.” Rumble kept his eyes on his knots. “Even though I could send in an early signup and join on the exact day. I think it’s a good idea. Gives me a time cushion, you know?”

“I… I…” Scootaloo gave a quiet sniff. “I hope it’s everything you want it to be.”

Rumble shrugged. “I need to live up to that standard, Scootaloo. I need to fly that flag.” The corners of his mouth turned up, showing white teeth. “I need to be the best.”

Scootaloo touched her hoof to the edge of her glass. “So what’s the point?” she muttered.

Rumble’s smile vanished. “I’m sorry?”

“So what’s the point of all this?” Scootaloo waved a hoof around. Snowflake started to trot over, but she shook her head. “I mean, what’s the point of this date thing? What’s the point of even telling me you like me? It’s just—” She sighed. “What’s the point if whatever we manage to build up only lasts a year?”

“The point…” Rumble took in a deep breath, expanding his muscular chest. “The point is that I don’t want it to just last a year. I want it to last, period.”

Scootaloo frowned. “Because long-distance relationships have such a great track record.”

“I’m not talking about just dating, Scootaloo,” Rumble said. “I wanna get married.”

Scootaloo’s chair scraped against the floor as she rose up, her wings flaring. “Wha—? Holy horseapples, Rumble,” she managed to squeak. “What the heck?”

“Oh, shoot, um—” Rumble pupils became pinpricks. “I didn’t mean right now. I don’t even mean in the next couple years. Just…” He pushed his napkin aside. “Just please, hear me out.”

Scootaloo remained standing for a long moment. She settled herself down in the chair, her eyebrows level.

“I know neither of us are anywhere near ready to be married. That’s not exactly what I meant.” Rumble cleared his throat, then cleared it again. “I’m just… hoping that this can be more than a fling. I don’t just wanna date you, I wanna…”

He rested one forehoof over the other. “I wanna learn how to love you, Scootaloo.”

Scootaloo opened her mouth. She shut it. She opened her mouth again, thought better of it, then spoke anyway. “You aren’t going to be around. You’re gonna be off in training and I’ll be… here. Alone.”

Rumble bit down harder on the inside of his cheek. “It’s not like we’d never see each other. I’d still be in Equestria, ’cause I’m joining the Home Guard. I’ll get to come home and stay home. We’d write—”

“Like me and Dash. I get it.” Scootaloo rested her head in her hooves. “Rumble, this is… I don’t even know. I don’t know that I can do this.”

Rumble locked his gaze on her eyes. His wings trembled. “I’m sorry. I just—I just didn’t want to miss my chance to try. To tell you that you’re—”

“I can’t.” Scootaloo swallowed hard. Her throat bobbed as she talked. “They won’t keep you in Equestria. You’re gonna get sent to Felacia, or Zebrabwe, or somewhere stupid like that, and you’re gonna get killed and I’m never gonna see you again and I just can’t,” she said, her last words ending with a sob.

She pushed out her chair and stood up. Her teeth clenched around her bottom lip. She lifted her head as if to say something, but turned around and walked toward the exit. She moved at a fast walk, not paying attention. She bumped face-first into another pony and tried to brush past.

“Well, who do we have here?” Diamond Tiara said. “What’s the matter? Did muscle-brains over there dump you?”

Scootaloo wiped off her face, smearing what little mascara she’d applied. “Shove it, Diamond.”

Diamond moved to block her path. “I guess that means he’s free, right? Maybe I’ll trot right up to his table and ask him if he wants company.”

“I said shove it!” Scootaloo shouted. “And get out of my way!”

Scootaloo pushed Diamond Tiara aside with her wings. She ran for the exit under the scrutiny of everypony in the restaurant.

“He doesn’t want you, Scootaloo!” Diamond yelled. “Just like your real parents didn’t want you!”

Scootaloo froze.

“Yeah, that’s right. You’re just an unloved orphan!” Diamond Tiara sneered as her eyes blazed. “You’re just a stupid street rat who can’t fly. You try and try, but always fail! You’re an unloved mistake!”

“I’m not an orphan!” Scootaloo stomped up to Diamond, her wings spread and her eyes hard. “I have a million friends who love and support me! I have a big sister to guide and help me! I have two loving parents who’ll never leave my side!” She shoved a hoof at Diamond’s chest, knocking her back a step. “And that’s a heck of a lot more than you have right now!”

Silver Spoon was between them, holding them apart. “Out! The both of you! I will not permit or tolerate such actions! Get out of my restaurant!”

Scootaloo glared daggers at Diamond before turning back to the exit. Diamond gave Silver a pleading look. “But Silver—”

“That means you,” Silver Spoon said as she pushed her glasses up. “We’re going to have a long discussion about this tonight, DT.”

Her eyes hollow, Diamond stumbled after Scootaloo, escaping to the tune of Silver Spoon apologizing for the interruption and promising free desserts on the house.

Scootaloo pulled her skirt off and hung it over her back. She walked through Ponyville’s darkened streets, heading away from the restaurant. She heard the quick clomp of hooves behind her and turned around. “Go away, Diamond. We’ve already had this conversation a million times.”

“Y—you don’t get to say that,” Diamond choked. Now that she was close, Scootaloo smelled something rotten on her breath. “You don’t get to say that about me.”

“Let me just point out”—Scootaloo bumped Diamond with an elbow and watched her teeter—“that I don’t give a darn whether you think you’re a special pony princess. You’re just scum, do you know that? Nothing but a rotten apple. A pain in the flank. A zit on my cheek that needs getting rid of.”

“I’m…” Diamond shook her head, blinking her eyes. “Can’t. I’m the best. I’m always the best.”

“If you were the best you wouldn’t have to keep putting me down!” Scootaloo growled. “Now leave me alone!”

“But I gotta be the best!” Diamond sat down. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “I gotta be the best. Mamma said so!”

Scootaloo said nothing. She turned around and marched away.

Diamond prodded her cutie mark. She called after Scootaloo, “If—if I’m not the best, what’s even the point of this stupid crown on my butt? What’s even the point? How can I be the best if you’re always better?”

Scootaloo looked over her shoulder. “The best at what?”

Diamond Tiara fell silent, her eyes wide. After no words were said for a while, Scootaloo left. Diamond just stayed still, staring into nothing.

***

Scootaloo stood next to the lake. All was dark on the ground, lit only by the moon and the stars. Ponyville’s park was empty save for herself and whatever animals risked moving around at night. She laid her skirt over a bench and washed the makeup off her face in the water.

The flap of wings beside her caught her ears. When hooves touched down on the path, she recognized the gait. “What do you want, Rumble?”

“I screwed up so bad.” He sat down beside her. “I’m sorry.”

Scootaloo rubbed her nose. “I screwed up, too. Said some things I shouldn’t have.”

She shook her mane, spraying water everywhere. She touched it with a sigh. “Purple mop. We meet again.”

“It looks cute,” he said.

She scrunched her nose. “I don’t wanna hear compliments. I wanna hear what you were trying to say.”

Rumble paddled his forelegs in the water. “I’m just… I just wanted to tell you what you mean to me. I wanted to take a chance.”

Scootaloo lay down on the bank and crossed her forelegs under her chin. “D-do you get how scary this is? Every day, you hear about the griffons being unfriendly on the news. Every day, you hear about some guard falling in a diamond dog mine and getting mauled. Every day, there’s some new dragon forecast telling people in a border town to evacuate. You’re gonna get hurt.”

Rumble looked at the moon. Scootaloo glanced his way, just as his eyes reflected the light. “I gotta do it, Scootaloo,” he said. “I gotta give back to this country. I’ve gotta live up to the standard I’ve set for myself. I’ve got to make Equestria safe for you. And Thunderlane. And Cloudkicker. And everypony else.” He looked at her, a silhouette with shining eyes. “I just don’t wanna have to do it alone.”

“I can’t go with you,” Scootaloo whispered. “I can’t be a guard. I’m not built for it. That’s not me.”

Rumble sighed. “Nopony’s asking you to join up.”

He watched the water lap at the shore. “When I was little, Flitter would babysit me. It seemed like she had a different boyfriend every week. When I asked her why, she said it was because she liked to shop around.” He squinted. “At least, I think that’s what she said. After I told Thunderlane about it, he decided to get me a different sitter.”

Scootaloo snorted.

“So I asked him why he didn’t have a girlfriend, and helpfully supplied Flitter as an option.” Rumble grinned. “After gently throwing that particular choice out the window, he told me he didn’t have to go looking for a special somepony if he could just find her.”

Scootaloo brushed her mop down. “How’d that work?”

“He said he wrote down all the things he wanted in a mare. Eye color, age, disposition, the whole works.” Rumble scribbled in the wet sand. “He said he wrote that, prayed to the Creator over it, and then tucked it away somewhere. He said the Creator would find someone who fit better than anypony he could find himself.”

She shut her eyes. “Rumble…”

“When I got older, I did the same thing.” She noticed that he’d ditched his tuxedo somewhere between the restaurant and the park. “So that’s what brings me here tonight.”

Scootaloo scooped water out of the lake and molded it between her hooves. “And?”

“Item one, she’s gotta like Daring Do.”

Laughter bubbled up from Scootaloo’s chest. “Seriously?”

“I was twelve at the time, but it still counts.” Rumble watched her play with the bubble. “Second, she’s gotta be awesome. Like, super-cool.”

Scootaloo separated the blob into two and started to juggle them. “Hmm.”

“Third, she’s gotta be a pegasus.”

“Nothing tribalist about you, is there?”

“I’m just saying, these are the preferences.” Rumble brushed his chest. “Fourth, lavender eyes. Fifth, she’s gotta have a smile that brightens a whole room.”

Scootaloo smirked. “So what you’re saying is that if Twilight Sparkle was a pegasus…”

“No.” Rumble scooched around until he was facing her. “Six, loves kids. Seven, isn’t afraid to be goofy. Eight, easy to talk to. Nine, handy with tools.”

The juggling water blobs halted in midair. “Tools?”

“You think I wanna do all the home-improvement by myself?” Rumble giggled. “I don’t.”

Scootaloo let the water return to the lake. “It’s nice, Rumble, but there’s—”

“Ten.” Rumble held up a hoof. “Ten is important. Ten is big.”

Scootaloo held his gaze. “Then spit it out.”

“Ten is that she needs to understand how important it is to strive for a dream.” He reached out and touched her foreleg. “That if you aren’t working towards a dream, you aren’t really living. She needs to know how it feels to need something with your whole soul.”

Scootaloo let him take her hoof in his. “I just happened to glance at it a few weeks ago,” he said. “The list, I mean. And things just… I was thinking about it, and you popped into my head. Just ‘ding’ out of the blue. And after a while I realized that you’re… you’re her.”

Scootaloo’s wings lowered to the ground. “You gotta follow your dream. I know you do. You can’t give up your dream any easier than I can give up mine. And you, you’re—” She grinned. “You’re stinking Prince Charming with a sense of humor, you know that?”

Rumble’s cheeks took on a dark tinge in the dim light. “But that still leaves the big problem. Doesn’t it?”

Scootaloo brought her other hoof up to his. “Neither of us really want to be alone, do we?”

Rumble tried for a small smile. “Maybe if I get really good they can make me Captain of the Ponyville Guard. They’d have to move a barracks here, but you never know.”

Scootaloo sucked in her lips. “That’s the thing, isn’t it? It’d just be temporary separation, unless…”

“Hay,” Rumble lifted her chin. “Every day, thousands of guards don’t suffer horrifying deaths.”

“Don’t be a jerk.” Scootaloo exhaled through her nose. “But… you’d be the best, wouldn’t you? The best guard you can be, the best special somepony, the best…” She choked on her spit as a chuckle fought with a sob on their way out of her mouth. “Husband? Geeze, I’m too young for this conversation.”

Rumble spread his wings and flapped warm air around them. “Too young? We’re seventeen. We could marry next year if we were in a hurry.”

“I’m not,” Scootaloo said.

Rumble nodded. “I’m not, either. But I meant what I said.” He brought his face close to hers. “I want to learn how to love you.”

Scootaloo looked up to the moon, and then down to its reflection on the lake. She took a step back onto the water, leading Rumble forward. “You can start by learning how to dance.”

“Wait, what?” Rumble resisted, but only a little. “Didn’t we establish that I can’t walk on that stuff?”

She kept his hooves locked with hers. “I’ll do the walking.” She spread her wings in a small curtsy. “You do the flying.”

Her hooves stepped lightly on the water, sending small ripples across the lake. Every beat of his wings sent the ripples jittering and shaking, but didn’t break them. They moved slowly, she on the surface and he in the air, until they were both in the center of the lake. They held each other at leg’s length and shuffled back and forth.

“It’s… not quite the same without music,” Rumble said. “Is it?”

“Gee, and me without my phonograph.” Scootaloo pulled him closer, wrapping one foreleg around his shoulder. “If you can’t hear music, then look for it.”

She kicked out a back leg, sending several drops of water jumping into the air. They dropped one by one and made a small ‘plink’ sound. Each step produced more drips, which produced more plops.

He slid his hooves to her shoulders. “Musician, too? Truly, you are a jack of all trades.”

Scootaloo took a wide step, causing water to splash his face. “Did you just call me a donkey?”

He just shook his head. She added a spin to their step, leading them in circles around the lake. The drops played out a simple rhythm to guide them along. They paused as Scootaloo drew her hoof in a line across the surface, lifting a short wall of water which shone in the light of the moon. Rumble took a chance and wrapped his forelegs around her waist, swinging her in a slow arc. Small droplets of water flew around them as she settled back to the surface.

“Now you’re getting it,” she said. She hugged his neck and brought him closer. They twirled, and the water twirled around them. Dew collected on Rumble’s wings, granting him a coat of starlight. Scootaloo’s eyes sparkled as she directed the dancing droplets. He lifted them both in the air, pulling water to himself. Before long, fog rolled around them, fog that eventually merged into a fluffy white cloud. They both set their hooves atop it and danced together, cheek to cheek.

When the dance ended, he held her high, her wings spread in imagined flight. She bent her head down and pressed her lips against his. They embraced, first with their forelegs and then with their wings. They prolonged the kiss, neither wanting it to end.

When the inevitable came, they parted, short of breath. Their foreheads touched as they sat upon the cloud in the quiet night. Scootaloo folded her wings and lay on her back, and Rumble lay beside her. They watched the stars twinkle overhead.

“You know, I could get used to this,” she said.

“Yeah, that was pretty… wow. That’s a good word for it.”

“You saying that words have finally failed you?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time tonight.”

“This time’s much less of a screw up.”

He propped himself up on his elbow. “How much less?”

She nestled herself into the soft cloudstuff. “Like a zillion times less.”

Rumble sighed. He scratched at the fluff. “It ain’t gonna be easy, is it?”

Scootaloo rested her hoof on her chest, smoothing a few stray hairs down. “Nah. But people always say important stuff isn’t easy. Maybe I ought to listen up.”

Rumble touched her foreleg. “You’re like the princess of uneasy important stuff. Or something.”

Scootaloo laughed. “Was that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Hay, I’ve had an odd day.” He shrugged with a chuckle. “Take what you can get.”

She touched his cheek. “’Kay.”

Their lips dovetailed, sending tingles down their spines. Scootaloo held her hooves behind Rumble’s head. Her wings fluttered through the cloudstuff.

Scootaloo’s eyes snapped open. Her wings fluttered through the cloudstuff unhindered. She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath.

Rumble lifted his head, his eyebrows high. “What’s wrong?”

In one motion, she brought herself to a standing position and pushed him to the cloud. She pressed her hooves to his chest, holding him down.

“Wh—whoa, whoa, wait!” he stammered. “We—we can’t just—!”

“Flap your wings,” she said.

He forced his heart to slow down. He studied her face, which was twisted into a mask of horror and worry. Her wings shook from stress. “Scootaloo, why—?”

“Flap your wings!” she shouted, though it came out as a pained cry.

Still breathing heavily, Rumble complied. His feathers made soft “paff, paff, paff” sounds as they bumped against the top of the cloud. “Scoots, are you—?”

“No.” Scootaloo crossed to the edge of the cloud. She put her wingtips to the surface and lifted her forelegs to perform a wingup. After two pushes, her wings slowly sank into the clouds. She lay on her stomach, with the cloud up to her chin.

“No.” She stood up and scooped up cloudstuff beneath her. She set her wingtips down and tried again, and again she sank. “No. Come on, come on.” She flipped over backwards and landed on her wing, balanced perfectly with all four legs in the air. After a brief second, she slipped into the cloud. “No! No! No!”

Rumble rushed up to her and scooped her hooves in his. “Scootaloo, look, I’m here. I can help you. Tell me how to help you.”

Scootaloo cast her eyes around, searching for something to focus on. Something to inspire a solution. Something to help. “It’s my wings. There’s something wrong with them.”

“Are you o—” Rumble cut himself off and started over. “Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor? I can carry you to the hosp—”

“It’s my wings, Rumble!” Scootaloo pulled away from him, drawing her legs close to her body. She shook as tears gathered. “It’s always been my wings! They’ve always been imbalanced! My own wings are holding me down!”

“We’ll talk to the doctors.” Rumble reached for her. “They can fix it. They’ve got to know a way.”

“Did you hear me?” Scootaloo snapped. “My own wings are why I can’t fly!”

She sat down hard. She wiped salt from her eyes. “I wanna go home.”

Rumble chewed the inside of his cheek. “Sure. Sure, I’ll take you.”

She leaned on him while they descended. They retrieved her skirt and made the now-long trek back to Quills and Sofas. He kissed her on the forehead, and then waited as she walked inside. She closed the door and waited until she heard wing beats before walking further into the store.

Davenport sat on one couch. Roseluck was fast asleep on his lap, snoring gently, a cloth on her forehead. He rubbed her shoulder and looked to Scootaloo. “How was your date, Kid?”

Scootaloo looked back with reddened eyes. A pang touched her heart at the sight of her mom. She trotted over and gave them both a kiss on the cheek. She moved past them and up the staircase.

“It was weird, Dad. Just plain weird.”

Believe It, Sister

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Scootaloo rolled over and pressed her pillow over her snout. She moaned into the fluff, then let it tumble off the side of the bed. Her head thumped down on the mattress a few times. She kicked the footboard. She brought her hoof up and wiped dampness from her chin. She stood up, flopped down on her stomach, and looked at her clock again.

Four-thirty. Not a wink of sleep.

An orange feather floated in her vision. Pressure built up behind her eyes.

The door opened, letting in a beam of yellow light. A cream-colored hoof gripped the door frame. “Scootaloo?” a voice whispered.

Scootaloo didn’t answer, but turned towards the wall.

Roseluck’s face appeared, silhouetted by the hall light. She crept in and shut the door silently behind her. She tiptoed up to the bed to rest a hoof on Scootaloo’s back.

Scootaloo sniffed.

“Apple Bloom stopped by earlier. She said she heard about the Silver Spoon thing. You don’t have to work at the Acres today if you don’t want.” Roseluck blinked dampness from her eyes. “You can go back to sleep.”

“Didn’t sleep,” Scootaloo murmured. “Had to think.”

Roseluck’s hooves trailed down her daughter’s wings. The feathers shook. “Think about what, Scootaloo?”

“About flying.” Scootaloo gritted her teeth. “And not flying.”

“Did you find out—”

“It’s my wings, Mom.” Scootaloo brought her head around. “Discord said there was some sort of magic imbalance in me, and he was right. My wings won’t use magic. Not enough. And it’s always been there and I don’t understand why.”

Roseluck sat there, unable to speak. She hung her head.

Scootaloo laid her chin on the bed. “I’m such a screw-up.”

Roseluck frowned. Her hooves trembled. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

She sucked in a deep breath and let it out. She opened her eyes and leaned close to Scootaloo’s wings.

Scootaloo felt a tickle. She looked back. “What are you doing?”

“Some of your feathers are out of place.” Roseluck took an orange feather in her teeth and straightened it. “Here, it’ll look nicer.”

Scootaloo couldn’t help pulling her lips back. “You’re worried about my feathers at a time like this?”

Roseluck continued down the wing, smoothing out some feathers and plucking loose ones. When one wing was completed, she revolved her hoof. “Turn around.”

“But Mom—”

“Please.”

Scootaloo stood up, gave her mom a pointed look, and flopped down in the other direction.

Roseluck nuzzled Scootaloo’s other wing. “Scootaloo, for years we didn’t believe we’d be able to have children. Miscarriages, false starts, everything stood in our path to parenthood. We outright gave up hope. It wasn’t happening.”

Scootaloo turned away and looked out the window. Ponyville was completely dark.

“It was after that decision.” Roseluck plucked a feather and watched it flutter to the floor. “The very night we had the painful, tearful conversation. The day we decided to stop trying to have kids. The moment we almost thought to leave each other. That’s when we found you.”

Roseluck straightened out the last feather. She lay her head on Scootaloo’s back. “We heard a cry in an alley, behind this same building. We followed it, and found you on the other end. You, Scootaloo. Not anypony else but you. A little, orange pegasus baby, all alone. Abandoned.”

Roseluck slid her foreleg around her daughter’s shoulders. “It was the end of both our lives, but we found each other.” The damp on her cheeks mingled with Scootaloo’s. “I picked you up… and I held you close… and you looked at me…”

Scootaloo hugged her mom.

“Never in my life,” Roseluck said, “have I ever felt such a need to protect somepony so much. To see you grow up strong and happy. To help you through life’s challenges. To love you.”

She laughed. “So yes, I’m worried about feathers at a time like this. They’re part of you, and I’m worried about you. Maybe I shouldn’t be so concerned all the time, but I still just want you safe.”

Scootaloo took in a shuddering breath. “Mom—”

“And I know I’m smothering you. I should let you live your life and find your happiness.”

“Mom, it’s cool,” Scootaloo said with a tremble. “You’re just doing what you do.”

Roseluck and Scootaloo looked at each other through bleary eyes. Rose touched her daughter’s cheek. “Please do me a favor.”

Scootaloo sniffled. “What, Mom? What do you need?”

“Just…” Roseluck smiled. “Scootaloo, you’re a miracle. You’re my miracle. You’ve already got one miracle; another one has to be just around the corner. Hold on, Honey. Hold out for it.”

Scootaloo nuzzled her. “I will.”

Roseluck rubbed her cheek against Scootaloo’s muzzle. “Besides, I think I know somepony who can help give the miracle a push.”

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow.

Roseluck winked. “Who comes home on the weekends?”

Slowly, inch by inch, a smile found its way to Scootaloo’s face. Her eyes shot to the poster on the wall, the one holding the blue pegasus mare with the many-colored mane.

“You gonna meet her at the train station?” Roseluck asked.

“Yeah.” Scootaloo lay down on the bed and pulled her covers over her back half. “Yeah, I think I will. She won’t be here for another few hours, though.”

“I know.” Roseluck took the blanket between her lips and drew it up to Scootaloo’s neck. She fluffed the discarded pillow and slid it under the messy purple mane. “You rest now.”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo yawned. “Rainbow Dash. She’ll know what to do. She always does.”

Roseluck paused at the doorway, her hoof on the handle. Her ears drooped. “She certainly tries. That’s all anypony can ask.”

Scootaloo allowed herself to fall into the bed’s warm embrace. She allowed her breathing to grow steady as her eyelids fluttered closed. Sleep took her for the few hours remaining until sunrise. At that point, she had things to do.

Scootaloo rolled to the train station in a straight line, not bothering to practice tricks on the way. The overnight train from Cloudsdale’s landline arrived midmorning, though always a few minutes late. She slid to a stop and latched her scooter to a pole.

The landing platform was busy for a small city. There were ponies trying to get away for the weekend, ponies waiting for relatives visiting for the weekend, and ponies who seemed to have nothing better to do than hang around the train station. Lyra strummed her lyre from a nearby bench, a hat lying nearby to collect stray bits. Hayseed Turniptruck stood on a stepladder, repairing the station’s sign after the big storm blew it down. Lord Mayor Applejack shoved her way through the crowd, ignoring protesters and rapid fire questions.

Diamond Tiara sat in a dark corner, staring at nothing.

Scootaloo drew back at the sight of her. She immediately turned around to walk away.

“Scootaloo,” Diamond croaked.

Scootaloo sighed. “I don’t want to start—”

“You’ll be happy to know I’m leaving,” Diamond said as if she hadn’t heard. “Off I go, into the wild blue yonder to wander.”

Scootaloo scrunched her face up. “Why would you—”

“My dad”—Diamond gave a humorless chuckle—“my dad told me he wanted me to start at the bottom. The bottom! A clerk at Barnyard Bargains. A grunt. A flunky. He said I had to work my way up.” She snickered. “How can you be the best if you’re just a cashier?”

She shook her head. “Silver Spoon’s practically disowned after how badly I embarrassed her in front of her customers. She said… she said being drunk’s no excuse for my actions.” She grinned a hard grin. “You know I only had a glass? Just one? My first ever?”

Scootaloo looked away. “So where are you going?”

“I left my dad because I didn’t want to start out low. Just moved in with Silver.” Diamond choked. “She’s a real witch, you know. Just doesn’t show it in public. Wears a mask. You ever worn a mask before?”

“I did—”

“It’s itchy. So itchy. You wear it all the time and all you can think of is how good it will feel to take off.” Diamond Tiara idly scratched her cheek. “It’s hard to breath, and you can hardly see and it itches. And then you take it off and you can breathe. You can see. You can let it all out. For one beautiful second, you’re free.”

A train whistle blew in the distance. Diamond looked down the tracks. “And then you realize everypony can see your ugly face.”

Scootaloo shuffled her hooves and tried to ignore the pit in her stomach.

“My mom, before she left us, she said I needed to be the best.” Diamond Tiara stomped a hoof. “What are you supposed to do when you find out your best isn’t good enough?”

“You keep trying,” Scootaloo said. “You keep working. You keep your eye on the goal and you don’t stop until you get there.”

Diamond glared out of the corner of her eye. “I’m done trying.”

Scootaloo shrugged. “Then what do you want from me?”

Diamond Tiara sneered. “Nothing. I don’t need anything from you.”

Scootaloo sucked on her bottom lip. She turned to Diamond. “Your dad would probably forgive you if you went back and apologized.”

“Apologize.” Diamond Tiara shook her head and lay down in her corner. “You would say that, turkey legs.”

Scootaloo trotted away, leaving Diamond behind. She came to the edge of the platform and sat.

Applejack patted her back. “Don’t fret none. Some folks can’t be helped.”

Scootaloo hung her head. “I guess it didn’t stop me from trying. It’s partially my fault she’s like this.”

“She made her own dadgum choices, Sugarcube.” Applejack adjusted her hat as oncoming wind threatened to send it soaring. “Ain’t nothin’ you said or did could break or fix that mare. She’s a lost cause.”

Scootaloo glanced back at the pink mare. She sighed through her nose. “So am I.”

The train rolled up. Applejack’s forehead creased. “Yer different from her. We all got problems.”

Scootaloo pulled her wings close to her sides and stared at her feet.

Applejack took a step back to let ponies off the train. “Ah guess people come in all shapes an’ sizes, but one thing’s the same. It’s awful hard to change for the better.”

Scootaloo nodded. “But it can be done?”

Applejack smiled. “Yeah. Given th’ right heart, ain’t nothin’ really impossible.” She jerked her head back. “Guess we gotta just hope she has a change o’ heart someday.”

She grinned and marched forward. “So the glamorous movie star’s finally decided to grace the little folk with her presence, huh? Gawsh, ah feel so enamored!”

Rainbow Dash jumped out of the train car, flapping her wings. She dropped down to Applejack and grabbed her in a rough hug. “Geeze! Can’t I go anywhere without stinkin’ politicians asking me to fill out another strinkin’ poll? I need a tub of cider just to recover from Gaston’s gubernating!”

Muscles flexed beneath Rainbow’s coat and skin. Long limbs wrapped around Applejack’s neck, giving a squeeze that was firm yet friendly. Powerful wings sat half-extended on her back. Her short mane danced in the breeze, the green lock curling just under her ear. She winked at Scootaloo and motioned her closer. “C’mere, you.”

Scootaloo jumped at her with a tackle that would have knocked the sturdiest earth pony off balance. Rainbow Dash held firm even as Scootaloo impacted her stomach, though her eyes widened.

“Geeze, Squirt,” Rainbow wheezed, “trying out for the hoofball team?”

Scootaloo shut her eyes tight and squeezed. “I missed you so much.”

Rainbow Dash’s mouth turned down at the corners. She replaced the expression with a confident smirk. “I missed you, too.” She wrapped a wing around Scootaloo. “What say the three of us get some brunch? Brunch sound good to you, Applejack?”

The train whistle squealed. The conductor shouted, “All aboard!”

Diamond Tiara slunk towards the train. Scootaloo watched her go.

“Sure does,” Applejack said. “Apple Bloom should have the cart at the market already, so it’ll be a quick walk.”

“I love the smell of apple tarts in Ponyville.” Rainbow Dash flapped into the air and laid a foreleg on Applejack’s and Scootaloo’s shoulders. “It smells like home.”

The three of them made the short trot to the marketplace. Most of the stands had been set up, but very few customers were around. Apple Bloom could be seen behind her stall, a bushel of apples framing either side.

Apple Bloom looked up and almost gasped. “Scootaloo? Are you doin’ okay?”

She walked around the market stall, nearly bumping her head on the overhand protecting the apples from direct sunlight. She bent her knees and lowered herself to Scootaloo’s level. “When yah didn’t show up fer work ah thought you’d decided to just hole up today.”

Scootaloo sent Rainbow Dash a quick glance before plastering a smile to her face. “I’m doing okay, Bloom. Just thought I’d give you guys a break.”

Apple Bloom also spared Dash a glance. “Miss Dash. Ah’m just worried ’bout you, Scoots. When ah heard about the fight ah was afraid you’d be in trouble.”

Rainbow Dash shuffled her hooves and choked down a swallow.

Applejack stepped between her sister and Scootaloo. “What fight? What’re you talkin’ ’bout?”

Scootaloo’s head dipped down. “How’d you find out about it?”

“Diamond Tiara harassed the folks at Sugarcube Corner before Spike threw her out. Literally.” Apple Bloom stood up, lifting her head above those around her. “We looked all over for you an’ Rumble, an’ he just said he took yah home.”

“I’m fine. The fight wasn’t even that bad.” Scootaloo took a step back. “Just the usual Diamond Tiara stuff. Really.”

“Then what’s got you down, Squirt?” Rainbow Dash puffed out her chest and gave Scootaloo a half-hug. “You know I’m here for you, right? It doesn’t take a genius to tell you’re not a hundred and ten percent.”

Scootaloo looked at each pony in turn. “My wings are why I can’t fly. They just… sink right through clouds. Like there’s no magic in them. Or not much.” She extended her wings to their full length. “I just don’t know where to go from here.”

Rainbow Dash gave her a squeeze. “Up. We go up. Right, Applejack?”

Applejack wiped what had been a dour expression off her face. “Yer the expert, Dash.”

“But first, brunch.” Rainbow Dash pointed at Apple Bloom. “Fry cook. Three apple tarts, if you please.”

Apple Bloom reached over the stall to grab the treats. “Can you do it, Dash? Can y’ finally make Scootaloo fly?”

“Lemme tell you something about the impossible.” Rainbow Dash dropped bits into the tin. “It’s just ‘I’m possible’ without the apostrophe.”

Applejack guffawed. “It take you all night tah think of that?”

Apple Bloom patted Scootaloo’s shoulder. “Got some balloon juice on standby if’n yah need it.”

Scootaloo bit her lip, then gave Bloom a quick nuzzle. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“What’s this fantastic idea of yours, Dash?”

Scootaloo’s wings buzzed, pushing her towards Rainbow Dash’s cloudmansion. Her elder sister corkscrewed through the air, swirling passing clouds into spiraling patterns. Rainbow Dash performed a loop that brought her closer to Scootaloo.

“Well, see, the folks up at Cloudsdale said it’s high time I got a physical. So I take it and they scan me with this huge machine, looks kinda like a toilet. It mapped out my whole fairy string network. If you’ve got a magic imbalance, they’ll be able to find it and figure out a way to fix it.”

Scootaloo put out her hoof and skidded to a stop. “We’ve talked about that sorta thing, but I don’t think my parents can afford the—”

“Cool it.” Rainbow Dash landed in front of her. “Wonderbolt, remember? World-famous movie star? I got this thing covered. We’ll just take the train at noon, arrive in the evening, get your test, listen to what the doctors say, and be out in time to have supper.”

“But you just got to Ponyville,” Scootaloo said.

“Yeah, so? Isn’t this important?” Rainbow Dash gave her a curt nod. “Of course it is. It’s super-important. I promised I’d teach you to fly, and I’m gonna fulfill that promise, Squirt. I ain’t leaving my friends out in the cold, got it?”

Scootaloo’s mouth quirked upward. “If you say so, Dash.”

“Darn right I say so.” Rainbow Dash tossed her mane. “You got tell your folks about it, and I’ll get cleaned up. Meet me at the house in an hour.”

“I-I’ll be there!” Scootaloo’s wings fluttered. “Yeah! We’ll do this!”

One hoof-bump later, they went their separate ways. An hour and ten minutes later, Scootaloo stood on the edge of Rainbow Dash’s porch. A satchel hung off her back, carrying a few vital supplies. Plus a few bits in case she saw something awesome she needed to have. She sucked in a deep breath and knocked four times.

A large male griffon opened the door. He turned his head to look straight at Scootaloo. “Oh, hello again.”

“Mister Paw.” Scootaloo turned her head to mirror his. She noted the sheathed sword hanging from his hip. “Did Rainbow Dash like the scarf?”

“Loved the white. Your advice was spot-on.” He gestured into the hallway. “Don’t let me be rude. Come on in. Rainbow Dash’s gonna be done in a few minutes.”

Scootaloo stepped inside and wiped her hooves on an enchanted doormat. “Done with what?”

Rainbow Dash ran from the kitchen to her bedroom, a towel wrapped around her head. “Holy Horseapples, I can’t find anything!” Water dripped from the end of her tail. “Scootaloo, you tell that boyfriend of yours that I put things places for a reason!”

Martial cleared his throat. “I think that’s my cue to leave. Good luck, Scootaloo.” He extended his wings and flew in the direction of the forest.

Rainbow Dash continued her one-mare stampede around the house. Scootaloo leaned on a countertop. “Sooo… What’s the story there?”

Rainbow Dash stuck a toothbrush in her mouth. “Story where?”

“Mister Martial Paw. The griffon who keeps showing up when your name’s mentioned.” Scootaloo’s eyebrows danced. “That story.”

“He’s a pal. Met him through Daring Do. Saved my tail a couple times, and I saved his.” Rainbow Dash brushed her teeth vigorously. “Beginning, middle, end. Whole story. Why?”

Scootaloo leaned on her elbows. “I thought maybe there was something else going on. He seems like he likes you.”

Rainbow pulled the towel off her mane. “Sorry to burst your Rainbow Dash-Martial Paw fantasies, Squirt, but there ain’t much there. We’re buds.” She spat in the sink and tossed the brush into her saddlebags. “Is this gonna be your first time in Cloudsdale?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re in for a treat, Scootaloo.” Rainbow Dash laughed. “Holy cow, are you in for a treat. All packed?”

“Got my stuff right here.” Scootaloo patted her satchel. “You ready?”

“I will be as soon as I can find my stinking—” Rainbow Dash slapped her forehead. “As soon as I remember that I told Rumble to put the turtle food in Tank’s room.” She shook her head. “I’ve been gone too long, Squirt.”

Scootaloo jumped onto Rainbow Dash’s back and wrapped her forelegs around her neck. “You haven’t been gone. Just away.”

Rainbow ruffled Scootaloo’s mane. “Sometimes I don’t know if I believe that.”

“Believe it, sister.” Scootaloo chuckled. “And it’s great to have you back.”

Rainbow Dash smiled. Her eyes lit up. “Hay, I got an idea.”

“Huh?” Scootaloo climbed down. “What’s that?”

“Remember way back when, when you watched us build storms?” Rainbow Dash scooped up her bags and walked to Tank’s room. She poured a measure of the stuff out before giving the tortoise a kiss on the forehead. “I’d push you around on top of a nice cloud. If you’re cool with it, I can push you to the train station. We’ll just leave your scooter locked up here. It’ll be a shortcut.”

Scootaloo squinted. “We’re gonna have to do that in Cloudsdale anyways, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Rainbow Dash stepped onto her porch and pulled a tuft free. “At your convenience, madam.”

“Then heck, I want you to get as much practice in as you can.” Scootaloo alighted the cloud, folded her legs beneath her, and shut her eyes. “Proceed with the proceedings and whatnot.”

Rainbow Dash pushed herself up with her wings and let her forelegs sink into the soft, fuzzy cloudstuff. “Th-this is it, Squirt. We’re gonna finally get you airborne.”

Scootaloo shivered. “I c-can’t wait.”

Rainbow Dash moved the cloud forward. “You’re gonna have to tell me what’s been going on in Ponyville on the way. I wanna hear everything.”

The chuff chuff chuff of the train had faded into the background hours ago. Scootaloo shared as much with Rainbow Dash as she could remember. The failed plots to help her fly. The discovery of her ability to paint with magic. The encounters with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Babysitting the Cakes. Her talks with Rumble. Her dance with Rumble.

Rainbow Dash coughed on her coffee. “He said he wanted to get married? What the hay did you say to that?”

Scootaloo reclined on the red cushion. “About what you might expect. I pretty much told him to take a hike. Then I took a hike.”

“Geeze.” Rainbow Dash coughed again before taking a more cautious sip. “I guess that must have been nice while it lasted.”

“Well…” Scootaloo rubbed her nose. “That’s the thing. After I cooled off, he came to me again. He explained himself a little better, I guess. Or maybe he’s just that sweet a talker.”

“Heh.” Rainbow Dash looked out the window. “So you two are really an item now.”

“Pretty much. It’s as official as it’s gonna get.”

Rainbow Dash gave her a wide grin. “Until he proposes. Except he already did that.”

“Yeah, yeah, we all make mistakes.” Scootaloo nibbled on chocolate candies from a nearby vending machine. “I don’t think I’d want him to take that mistake back, though.”

Rainbow Dash laughed. “Good luck to you guys. I hope you live long, happy lives.”

The train jolted as they switched tracks. Rainbow Dash stretched her wings. “Getting close.”

Scootaloo popped a red-coated chocolate into her mouth. “So what about you? What’s going down with the Wonderbolts?”

Rainbow Dash leaned forward. “Next month, get this, we’re performing overseas.”

“Really?” Scootaloo sat up. “They’re letting Equestrians perform? Where? Who?”

“Beefland.” Rainbow Dash polished a hoof on her chest. “I’m gonna show those minotaurs and cows what a rainboom looks like. And that’s only the opening act. It’s just gonna be me, Lightning Dust, and Raindrops, but we’re an awesome enough team to knock them off their hooves, for sure.”

“Wow.” Scootaloo hugged herself with her wings. “A Wonderbolts show on foreign soil. That’s gotta be the show of a lifetime.”

“You’re telling me?” Rainbow Dash’s ears flicked back, though she kept her smile strong. “I’m getting cold sweats just thinking about it.”

Scootaloo chucked her shoulder. “You’re gonna rock. I know it.”

Rainbow Dash’s mouth tipped down. “I’d invite you, but the cost of just getting a travel visa these days is just nuts. They want you to be dang sure you wanna go somewhere. So much paperwork. I don’t even know if Twilight and Applejack ’ll be able to go, and they’re government.”

She glanced out the window. Her eyes widened. Her smile retook her face as her wings spread fully. She tugged on Scootaloo’s shoulder. “Come here, Squirt. This is the best part. One of them. Maybe the best first part.”

Scootaloo looked out the window and beheld wonder.

An enormous cloudbank floated above the mountains. But it wasn’t shapeless. It was formed into streets, and buildings, and towers. Bridges connected separate clouds, joining them together in a great network. The skyline extended all the way to the edge of the clouds. The area of ground shadowed by the city was greater than the entire city of Canterlot.

Rivers of rainbow and water flowed around the city-state, ending with waterfalls along the edges and in the center. Pegasi of all ages and sizes flew from cloud to cloud. Chariots and airships navigated the skyways. The late afternoon sun sparkled through puffs of mist, giving the air a magical, colorful glow.

On the ground, ponies worked to prepare hot air balloons to take new arrivals to the top. Unicorn mages stood by, ready to cast cloudwalking spells or to grant wings of gossamer and morning dew. Police ponies directed traffic to and from the loading platforms, keeping watchful eyes for potential trouble.

The train gave a final chuff as it slid into the station. Rainbow and Scootaloo disembarked immediately, nearly knocking a few of the slower ponies over. They hired their balloon, after Dash signed an autograph, and held on tight as they ascended.

“You probably don’t need a hot air balloon when you come, do you?” Scootaloo said.

“Nah, and neither will you.” Rainbow Dash glanced at the giggling mare directing their ascent. “I think we made her day, though.”

The mare tossed a line, which somepony grabbed to drag them in. She waved as they walked away. “Have a good day, Daring Do!”

Rainbow Dash gave her a double take. After a second, she belly laughed. “H-hay! You, too!”

Rainbow continued to shake during their walk across the landing platform. “Wow. Wow I am not gonna ever get used to that. Wow!”

Scootaloo snickered. “Tell me more of your brave exploits, Daring Do!”

“There I was, walking across Cloudsdale, carrying nothing but my toothbrush and my comb!” Rainbow Dash threw her foreleg out, stopping Scootaloo in her tracks. “When suddenly, the ground opened up before me!”

Scootaloo looked over. Just a few meters away, the cloud ended. The ground could be seen far below, grass and rocks and houses. “Whoa.”

“Then, a flash of inspiration hit me like a ton of bricks.” Rainbow Dash tore a chunk of cloud from beneath their feet and molded it into a flat square. “My trusty flying carpet would never fail me, even when my wings did. And the day was saved once again by none other than that great hero of derring-do, Daring Do!”

The city sprawled all around them. Shops and restaurants and offices, all built out of cloud. Scootaloo could see apartment complexes in the distance. Flight schools hovered above as she began to understand that unlike other cities, a city in the sky didn’t have to be flat. It extended out every which way, always shifting, changing, and growing. More than anything, Cloudsdale itself was alive.

They joined a pegasus-only skyway, a path built through the city to provide safe passage for its citizens. Above and below, chariots pulled by strong stallions and mares sped away faster than the eye could follow. On the outskirts, airships crewed by eclectic arrangements of species floated past, their steam engines billowing smoke.

The breeze caught Scootaloo’s mane. She took in big, heaving breaths as she soared above nothingness. Little by little, her wings opened, letting the wind catch her feathers. She closed her eyes, and for a brief minute, believed she was flying.

But there wasn’t a feeling of weightlessness. Not yet. Not quite. Her hooves sat firm on the cloud in Rainbow Dash’s hooves. She turned back to smile at Rainbow Dash, but stopped when she saw her sister’s face.

Rainbow Dash’s mouth was a hard line fighting against a perpetual tremble. Her eyes glistened, from the stinging wind or something else. Her ears lay flat. Her back muscles were tight. She noticed Scootaloo looking at her and flashed an unconvincing smile.

“You okay, Rainbow Dash?” Scootaloo shouted over the roar of the continuous gust.

“Yeah, Squirt. Peachy!” Rainbow Dash stared straight ahead, but kept half an eye on the ponies around her. “You just hold on, okay?”

A left, a right, and two more lefts brought them to a quieter corner of the city-state. The buildings were shorter than the nearly-literal skyscrapers from the edges and middle. There were homes here, housing single families. Rainbow Dash pointed. “See that one over there? With the pillars?”

“Ahuh.”

“That’s where I grew up. One-nine-nine Hurricane Lane.” Rainbow Dash sighed. “Dad still lives there. I’ll have to introduce you someday. Maybe we can meet him for dinner.” Rainbow Dash pushed away from the house. “It’s about time he met my little sister, after all.”

“Sounds great. Can’t wait.” Scootaloo rested her chin on the cloud. “Is that the hospital?”

Four stories tall, hundreds of meters long, the hospital would have looked at home on the ground if not for the fact it was made of clouds. The distant whine of sirens tickled her ears.

“That’s the one,” Rainbow squeaked. “Only the best Cloudsdale has to offer. Everything a pegasus needs.”

Scootaloo stood up, bracing her hooves on the cloud. “I’m ready.”

Rainbow Dash gave the cloud one final push, then let it drift down. She landed on the ‘ground’ and waited for Scootaloo to join her. The younger pegasus stepped off her cloud.

They walked side-by-side, neither really willing to hurry. Scootaloo’s wings trembled. Rainbow Dash’s extended and folded at irregular intervals. A chill ran down their spines as they walked through the sliding doors.

Paperwork greeted them. Lots of paperwork. Mountains of paperwork. Permissions from legal guardians, blood types, history of illnesses, nonexistent eyeglasses prescriptions, allergies, current medication…

“Scootaloo?” a pegasus mare in a white labcoat said at last.

Scootaloo swallowed, the first noise that had passed between the two of them for the last hour and a half. “Y—that’s my cue.”

As Scootaloo followed the mare, she heard another pony speak to Rainbow Dash, “I’m sorry, but we do need to discuss payment—”

The heavy door closed.

Scootaloo licked her lips and giggled weakly. “So how does this thing work?”

The nurse set her on a hard, metal bed. She was covered with a thin, paper blanket. A white circle sat behind her, in the center of which multicolored magic sparkled. A hum rolled through the room.

“It records how the magic passes through your body,” the nurse said. “It won’t hurt, but you might feel some slight disorientation.”

Understatement of the year. The world spun as Scootaloo passed through the white tube. Power tingled through every fairy string as she touched the suspended magic curtain.

The current dissipated, the machine quieted, and the world righted itself. Scootaloo responded by vomiting.

Darn Right I Can

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“Oh my gosh, that was weird.”

Scootaloo leaned against Rainbow Dash, who wrapped a supporting wing around her middle. Her stomach still churned from her time in the scanner. She sucked water from the bottom of a mostly empty cup. “You have to do that often?”

“Yeah, every time I get a checkup.” Rainbow Dash squeezed. “They wanna make sure my rainbooms aren’t messing up my fairy strings.”

Scootaloo set her cup down. “And?”

“Still going strong. Maybe even stronger.” Rainbow flexed her foreleg. “You think I’m ready to try three at once, or what?”

“That sounds amazing.” Scootaloo sat back and rubbed her tummy. “Do you ever get used to the scanner?”

“Heck no. It sucks.” Rainbow Dash gripped the sides of her chair and rocked. “I guess it’s like a million times better than flying out there and turning into a rainbow firecracker.”

Scootaloo giggled. “It’s a sonic rain-kaboom.”

“Hay now,” Rainbow Dash said. “I don’t mind going out in a blaze of glory, but I’ve got a few more things to do first.”

“Like what?”

Rainbow Dash shrugged her wings. Her chair legs clattered against the smooth floor as she tottered back and forth. “Star in a few more Daring Do movies, I guess. Become supreme commander of the Wonderbolts. Make Applejack take a vacation.” The rocking stopped. “But mostly, teach you to fly. I promised I would, a long time ago.”

Scootaloo squinted. “Kinda funny. I remember you being the first to say ‘maybe you will, maybe you won’t.’”

“Yeah and that was stupid of me. Dumb.” Rainbow Dash looked down. “It was a rough time, you know. I was just starting on this whole big sister kick. I didn’t know what to say, so I said what I thought would make you feel better. I didn’t say what was in my heart.”

Scootaloo pulled herself forward and rested her hoof on Rainbow Dash’s leg. “Hay, you’re doing a good job.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I know I can do better.” Rainbow Dash smiled. “I’m working on it.”

Scootaloo’s ears drooped. “So, back then… what did you mean to say? What was in your heart?”

Rainbow Dash looked up, her mane falling loose across her neck. “Sky’s the limit, Squirt. And I still wanna believe it.”

The door opened. The doctor walked in, a pegasus mare wearing a white lab coat and at least five stethoscopes. “Hello, Scootaloo. I’m Doctor Flakes, Rainbow Dash’s personal physician.”

“Hay.” Scootaloo rubbed her hooves together. “What’s up, Doc?”

Dr. Flakes chuckled. “Rainbow Dash asked the same thing, first time I saw her.” She pulled up a chair and leaned against it. “So, I suspect you want to know the details.”

Scootaloo and Rainbow Dash leaned forward simultaneously.

“That’s what I thought.” Dr. Flakes pulled out a clipboard. “Simply put, Scootaloo is the most powerful pegasus mage in recorded history.”

Rainbow Dash fell out of her chair. “Wait, what?”

Frosted Flakes nodded. “The sheer magic potential her heart pumps out is twice yours is, Rainbow, just to put it in perspective. Her fairy strings are the strongest, most durable that I’ll probably ever have the pleasure of studying.”

Scootaloo gaped. She shook her head. She shook her head some more. “Huh?”

“Makes sense, though, Squirt.” Rainbow Dash jumped up and held her hooves in front of her. “All those tricks you can do with water, all your jumping and dancing and swirling and holy cow!” She shook, a giant grin on her face. “It’s all you! You really can do things nopony else can even dream of!”

She started, her eyes wide. She turned to Dr. Flakes with a frown. “Wait. Wait, that makes no sense. Why can’t she fly?”

Dr. Flakes sucked on the inside of her cheek. “I have a theory. It’s weak, but all the evidence so far support—”

“Spit it out, Doc.” Scootaloo licked her lips with a dry tongue. “Just spit it out.”

Doctor Flakes looked down at her charts, rather than in Scootaloo’s eye. “While the fairy strings throughout your body are strong, the ones in your wings are… I don’t want to say underdeveloped, but they are very small. Built for a baby pegasus. The amount of magic they release would let an infant fly during a magic surge. They can move some air, but not enough to get you off the ground. They can’t generate enough lift.”

Scootaloo lifted her eyebrows. She jerked her head to the side. “Well then. How’d it happen?”

Dr. Flakes flipped a page, though she didn’t read it. “Um, a few things could cause it. Childhood trauma. A mutation. Congenital diseases. I don’t have enough data to support any one theory.”

“That’s not important right now,” Rainbow Dash said breathlessly. “How do we fix it?”

Flakes flipped another page. “I’m not sure you really understand—”

Rainbow Dash shoved her face in Dr. Flakes’. “How do we fix it?”

Dr. Frosted Flakes almost swallowed her tongue. Her mouth flapped. “W-we—You could wait a few years and hope the fairy strings’ development catches up. You could perform daily exercises to improve their strength.”

“There’s no surgery?” Rainbow Dash almost shouted. “No medicine? Ambrosia—”

“Ambrosia might not help!” The doctor bit down on her lip. Her eyes jumped away from Rainbow’s as she talked. “Ambrosia heals. It helps cells reproduce. It sews injuries together. Fairy strings are like nerves, they don’t reproduce. They don’t duplicate themselves. You live with what you’re born with, and they grow with you. They can be healed, yeah, but Scootaloo’s aren’t damaged; they’re small.”

“How do we fix it!” Rainbow Dash stomped down. “There has to be something. Anything.” Her wings drooped to the ground. “We can’t give up.”

“I won’t.”

Flakes and Dash turned to Scootaloo. The young orange pegasus stood on her chair with her wings flared. “I’m not giving up. I’m never giving up! I’m gonna fly, Doc. Just stand back and watch!”

Rainbow Dash looked up at Scootaloo. “Okay, Squirt. You know something I don’t know?”

Scootaloo nodded. “Take me back to Ponyville, Rainbow Dash. I’ve got an appointment with the Spirit of Chaos!”

Rainbow Dash’s mouth was a grim line. “What.”

Scootaloo folded her wings. “You know. Discord. Friend of Fluttershy, animals, and little children? Phenomenal cosmic powers? Pulled your wings off and stuck them back on without blinking?”

Rainbow Dash scrunched up her nose. “He’s weird. How do you know he’ll even wanna help?”

“Because he offered to help me however he could.” Scootaloo jumped off the chair. “Trust me on this, Dash. He’s cool. He’s gonna help me.” She gave the doctor a glance. “Unless you’ve got a better idea?”

Dr. Flakes finally met her eyes. “No. If you can hold out for a miracle, by all means do so.”

“Darn right I can.”

Scootaloo tapped her foot on a cushion. She continuously switched between staring out the window and glancing around the train car. Rainbow Dash, on the other hoof, just stared into space.

“What’s wrong, sis?” Scootaloo asked after a while. “We’ve found it. The solution. The answer to all my problems. With flying, at least.”

“Yeah, but it’s Discord.” Rainbow Dash closed her eyes. “There’s always some sort of catch.”

Scootaloo sniffed. She trotted over to the vending machine and bought a bottle of water. She popped the top and caught the contents with a hoof. “Preeesenting the magical, mysterious, and oh-so-sexy Scootaloo! The most powerful pegasus mage of our time!”

She gripped the blob with both forehooves and stretched it out. She jumped, sliding the water under her legs like a jump rope. She swirled it over her head and around her body faster and faster. “See amazing feats of water manipulation! Gawk in the thrall of death-defying scooter stunts! Bear witness to magic beyond belief!”

Rainbow Dash laughed. She applauded and whistled. “Encore, encore!”

Scootaloo rolled the water into a ball, let it slide across her outstretched wings, and then kicked it. It exploded into a thousand droplets that lingered in the air.

Rainbow Dash settled down into the bench. She smiled. “Thanks, Squirt. I… think I needed that.”

“You totally did.” Scootaloo nudged her. “It’s gonna be awesome, us finally flying side by side.”

“Totally.” Rainbow Dash rubbed her leg. “Totally.”

“So what’s got you down?” Scootaloo sat across from her. “Come on, Dash. Talk to me.”

“It’s just… been one hard thing after another, you know?” Rainbow Dash pulled back her upper lip. “Like, not too much to get through, but hard. There’s always something standing in the way. And, like”—she swung a hoof—“it’s not all stuff I can just punch in the face, or plow through with my wings. I don’t know how well I deal with that kinda stuff. Stuff from the heart. It’s hard.”

She rolled her shoulders. “What if it isn’t a solution? What if it just leads to another problem? What if we’re just going in circles like we have for the last nine years?”

Scootaloo sighed. She tilted her head. “What happened to ‘I’m possible’?”

“It’s just a stupid saying, Scootaloo! A heroic speech!” Rainbow Dash shut her eyes and shook her head. She continued, quieter, “What if my speeches aren’t good enough?”

Scootaloo blinked. She drew the water droplets together to form a bubble of water. She tossed it to herself while she looked out the window. “Dash, you’re the coolest Wonderbolt. You’re the Bearer of Loyalty. You’ve saved my bacon and all of Equestria a bazillion times. More importantly, you’re the best big sister ever.”

Rainbow Dash lowered her eyebrows. The water ball splashed against her face. She coughed and blew water out of her nose.

“You think all that isn’t good enough?” Scootaloo jumped on her back. “Rainbow Dash, we gotta work on your self-esteem.”

“Nopony in the history of ever has ever said that,” Rainbow Dash said, shaking her damp mane. She gave Scootaloo a small smile. “Ever.”

She nuzzled Scootaloo under her chin. “I’m afraid of disappointing you.”

“Yeah? Maybe it’s inevitable.” Scootaloo returned the gesture. “Maybe you’ll do something one day that has me shaking my head and wondering what you were thinking. But I think I can take it.” She rested a hoof on Rainbow’s head. “Doesn’t change who you are.”

Rainbow Dash slid her foreleg around Scootaloo neck and swung her around. She rubbed the top of her head. “You know what? Best little sister ever, that’s what!”

“Hay!” Scootaloo squealed and struggled out from under Rainbow’s grip. “Watch the mane!”

The train car lurched, sending them both to the floor. They stood up and looked out the window. Canter Mountain loomed overhead.

The conductor knocked on their cabin’s door. “Sorry about that. Rockslide on the tracks. It’s gonna take a couple hours to clear it.”

Rainbow Dash looked around. “How far are we from Ponyville?”

“A few miles. Why?”

Rainbow grinned. “’Cause the skies are lookin’ a little cloudy.”

Scootaloo cocked an eyebrow. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Rainbow was gone and back faster than a blink. She dragged a cloud along behind her. She bowed. “Your carriage awaits, my lady.”

Scootaloo inclined her head. “Oh, thank you. It wouldn’t do to get my delicate hooves dirty.”

The conductor scratched beneath his hat. “You’re gonna ask for a refund, aren’t you?”

Scootaloo nestled in the softness of the cloudstuff. Stars twinkled overhead. “Eh. Keep the change, bosspony.”

Rainbow Dash gripped the cloud. “Ready, Squirt?”

“Oh yeah.” Scootaloo molded a set of goggles out of the cloud. “Full speed ahead.”

They blasted off in a rainbow streak, leaving the windblown conductor wobbling back and forth.

“There’s Ponyville!” Scootaloo hollered. “Aim for the north side!”

Rainbow Dash glanced at Canterlot to the east and adjusted her trajectory accordingly. “Over by Fluttershy’s?”

“Not quite. Discord’s living in the old windmill!” Scootaloo squinted into the darkness. “I can’t see the ground.”

“It’s cool. I’m navigating by memory.” Rainbow Dash scanned the darkened ground. “I think I remember.”

Her wings tilted, and they angled into a descent. Scootaloo felt it: Weightlessness. Her stomach twisted, her spine tingled, she felt lightheaded. She let go of her grip on the cloud and hovered over it.

Their angle of descent decreased, and she settled back down. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she fought to steady her breathing.

“You okay, Squirt?”

“Yeah, Rainbow Dash.” Scootaloo looked over her shoulder with breathless laughter. “I’m fine.”

They slowed to a stop. The windmill rotated, inch by inch. Their manes swayed to match. Scootaloo knocked on the door.

The door cracked open. Two yellow eyes peered out of the shadows. “Who’s there?”

Scootaloo waved. “Um. Hi, Discord.” She reached over and dragged Rainbow Dash close. “Rainbow Dash and I are here about my wings.”

The yellow eyes narrowed. Discord’s voice chuckled. “Oh ho, ho, how serendipitous! Come in, come in!”

The door swung wide open, banishing the shadows. Standing in the doorway were two disembodied yellow eyes. Scootaloo and Rainbow shrieked.

Discord leaned in from a separate room. “Tisk, those lazy eyes of mine can never keep up. Come along, Blinky. Whitey.”

The eyes hopped through the air and landed in Discord’s eye sockets. “That’s better. Come in, girls! Have some tea.”

A teacup walked out of the room and poured itself out. Discord snatched it up. “Ahem. You’re supposed to wait for the saucer, Chip.”

“Sowwy,” Discord said out of the side of his mouth. He wiggled the teacup. “Nevaw again.”

The teacup turned into a butterfly and flew to the kitchen, where it rested in a cupboard. Furniture shuffled around as the kitchen reconfigured itself into a small sitting room. Discord took a high-backed, red chair. He blew bubbles from a pipe. “Care if I soap?”

Scootaloo shook her head. He shrugged and blew more bubbles.

“So, Discord,” Rainbow Dash said, “Scootaloo here tells me you might be able to help her.”

“Just as soon as I find out what the problem is.” Discord rested a monocle before one eye. “Then, most certainly, I can dig into a solution to your magic imbalance.”

Scootaloo turned around and spread her wings. “It’s my fairy strings. They didn’t grow in. They’re still the same size they were when I was a baby. It’s kinda hard to fly when your wings don’t release enough magic for liftoff.”

Discord’s brow furrowed. He cupped a talon over his chin and leaned back. A footrest popped out of his chair. “Fairy strings.”

“Yeah.” Scootaloo jumped into the air, spread her wings, and hovered. “So can we fix that, like, right now?”

“Actually, yes we can.” Discord glanced at Rainbow Dash. “Allowing for certain things.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “I told you, Squirt. There’s a catch.”

“It’s not a catch. Unless you believe it’s a catch-twenty-two.” Discord drummed his fingers. “You see, I can’t fix your fairy strings.”

Scootaloo’s wings drooped. She dropped to the floor.

“Rather, I shouldn’t. What I told you before is true: You can’t get something from nothing.” He held his teacup up. “It can transform from one thing to another. It can stretch or compress. It can disguise itself. It can do things it wasn’t meant to do. It can become corrupted.”

He stood up and fluttered around the room on his wings. “I could cause your fairy strings to grow. Absent my influence, they would either return to normal, which would be terrible, or they would become corrupted by the influence of un-tempered chaos magic.” He stared at her through his monocle. “In essence, to be enchanted by chaos magic is to become like me.”

Rainbow Dash jumped up between them. “Don’t you lay a paw on her!”

“Heck no, Rainbow Dash, I wouldn’t dream of it!” Discord held his hands up. “Enchantment is not the answer. But that’s the thing… You can’t get something from nothing.”

Rainbow Dash crossed her forelegs. “What are you getting at?”

“Have you asked yourself why you felt no ill effects from your time as a quasi-earth pony?” Discord smirked. “Why you haven’t started to fly in corkscrews and barrel rolls? Why you remain the most loyal-est of elements? Why you stand before me today… unmarred?”

Rainbow Dash sneered. “I suspected it was because of the Elements.”

“Partially true. That’s what freed you from my little personality switcheroo. Now that was an enchantment.” Discord tapped a finger on her chest. “But mostly, it’s because I didn’t enchant your wings. I used a spell to separate them from you. I used a spell to rejoin you to them. But there was no magic in-between. There was nothing unnatural in your system. No chaos magic powering any transformation. There was just you, without your wings. And then you, with your wings. Simple?”

“So…” Scootaloo took a step forward. “So you’ll remove my wings…”

“Ahuh.”

“And give me my wings back. How will that help?”

Discord shook his head. “Scoot, Scoot, Scootaloo. I won’t be giving you the same wings back. That’s the trick. It’ll be the most painless surgery to ever be performed.”

Scootaloo’s jaw dropped.

Rainbow Dash’s body dropped. “Wait, what?”

“You seem to be saying that a lot.” Discord waved a paw. “No need to thank me for my ingenious solution, all in a day’s work for a draconequus.”

“New wings.” Scootaloo looked at her back. “New wings? Wings that aren’t my own?”

“Wings that work, Scootaloo,” Discord said. “Wings that will get you into the air and let you stay there. Wings to keep up with even the most powerful pegasi. Wings to let you fly.”

Scootaloo pursed her lips. She nodded. “Okay. Okay, I can do this. I guess I’ll miss my wings, but…” She grinned. “But I’ll have better ones, right?”

Discord laughed. “Absolutely. All that’s left is finding a donor.”

Scootaloo’s smile fell. “A donor?”

Discord flicked an ear. “Yes. A donor. A pony who has wings that can fly.” He frowned. “Don’t give me that look. I’m not a god, Scootaloo. I can’t just conjure up wings from nowhere. They have to come from something.”

“But… but all this time…” Scootaloo shook her head hard. “You just pull things out of everywhere. You make things appear and then disappear and—”

“And it all comes from somewhere.” Discord knelt before her. “I can twist, stretch, transport, grow, shrink, divide… But I cannot create. Nopony can. It’s beyond us. I could steal a pair from some Wonderbolt wannabe, but I get the feeling Celestia would look down on it.” He shrugged. “I need permission.”

“But…” Scootaloo wiped her eyes. “But who would give their wings to me?”

“I would.” Rainbow Dash stepped forward. “Give her my wings.”

Scootaloo staggered back. She held her forehooves up. “No.”

“Scootaloo, you’ll be able to fly!” Rainbow Dash took Scootaloo’s hooves in her own. “You’ll have the strongest wings in the kingdom! Think of how awesome you’ll be!”

“No!” Scootaloo jerked away. “No, I can’t take your wings away from you! They’re your life! They’re your dreams! They’re everything you have!”

“I’ll give it all up.” Rainbow Dash spread her wings. “I want you to fly, Squirt. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and I want to give that to you. I don’t want you to go through life without that feeling of freedom. Of being on top of the world. I want you to soar to your dreams, Scootaloo!”

Discord’s throat bobbed as he lifted a finger. “Actually, I was thinking more—”

“No! Stop!” Scootaloo backed away from Rainbow. “No. No, I can’t do that. I can’t do that to you. There has to be another way.”

“Creator above, Scootaloo, I promised I’d teach you to fly!” Rainbow Dash shouted. “Don’t you dare take that away from me!”

Scootaloo sat down, one hoof in their air. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. She swallowed and tried again. “Away from you?”

Rainbow Dash pressed her hoof to her forehead. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, that sounded terrible. That’s not what I meant.”

“No? Really, no?” Scootaloo ground both hooves into the floor. “Really?” she squeaked. “It sure sounded like it came from the heart.”

Discord shuffled back into a dark corner and twiddled his thumbs.

Rainbow Dash took hesitant steps toward Scootaloo. “Squirt, I just want this good thing for you.”

“You wanna destroy your own life to do it?” Scootaloo jumped up. “You wanna throw yourself into the gutter? Quit the Wonderbolts? Leave Applewood?” A hot tear fell down her cheek. “You won’t even be able to get up to your house.”

“Scootaloo, you know you’re important. To me. To everypony.” Rainbow Dash bit her lip. “I think it’d be worth it.”

“Not to me!” Scootaloo screamed. She spun on her hind legs and barreled out the door. She heard Rainbow shout her name, but ignored it. She couldn’t let it happen. She wouldn’t. Not even if it kept her grounded forever.

She ran across the pond on her way through the park. She ignored the glint the droplets made in the moonlight. She just ran. She ran until her legs ached. She ran until her head ached. She ran until the pain in her lungs grew greater than the pain in her heart. She slumped to the newly-paved streets of Ponyville.

“What’s wrong?” her mother would say when she got home. Then Scootaloo would tell her, and she’d cry. Or Scootaloo would just barge up the stairs like usual, and then her mom would cry harder. Or she’d meet her dad, and he’d have to tell her.

When her legs stopped shaking, she got to her feet. She looked up at the building she’d collapsed next to: Carousel Boutique.

She gave the door three sharp raps. When no answer came, she knocked harder.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, for heaven’s sake.” The door latch clicked. “Honestly, for such an unpleasant hour, you can’t even be a little polite?”

Sweetie Belle was wrapped in a fuzzy pink robe, with a sleep mask pushed up on her forehead. She squinted before setting her glasses on the end of her nose. “Scootaloo?”

Scootaloo tried to smile, but she couldn’t hide the dampness on her cheeks. “H-hay. C-can I stay at your place tonight?”

Sweetie Belle held a hoof to her mouth. “Oh of course! Oh no. Is this about the fight at the restaurant? You know those things Diamond said aren—”

“No!” Scootaloo winced. “Sorry. No, it’s not about that. I just… need a place. Away.”

Sweetie rubbed her eye. She held the door open. “You’re welcome for as long as you need.”

Scootaloo walked through. Sweetie stopped her with a hoof on her back. “I think you need to talk about it.”

She led them over to her sitting room, where she set Scootaloo on her red, cushy couch. “Lucky for you, I have tea on the stove. Wait right here.”

Scootaloo stared into the fireplace. It had little more than embers burning, but that was about all that was needed in the early summer months. Soon, Sweetie would close it off completely except for special occasions.

Sweetie Belle levitated her tray to a small coffee table and poured them each a cup. “This should sooth you a little. It’ll help.” She sat next to Scootaloo. Their shoulders touched. She fiddled with her robe’s ties. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Scootaloo held her head. “Every time I talk about it I end up hurting someone. Sometimes that’s me. Sometimes it isn’t.”

“Well, not to sound prideful, but I highly doubt you’ll be able to scare me away.” Sweetie Belle grabbed the fire poker in her magic and stirred the coals. “So fire away.”

Scootaloo hugged herself. “I can’t fly. I can’t fly, because I can’t take that away from someone.”

Sweetie’s forehead wrinkled. She slid her foreleg over Scootaloo’s shoulders. “Wanna start from the beginning?”

“My wings, the fairy strings never developed.” Scootaloo held up her hooves. “It’s like, something happened that caused all the growth to happen in my legs. It’s not fair! I don’t get why this happened! And the stupid doctor didn’t even wanna help! And—and all anypony can tell me is why it can’t happen, or why it’ll never happen! And all anypony knows is that something went wrong!”

Scootaloo glared at Sweetie. “Your fairy strings are bad. How come you can use magic?”

Sweetie looked down. “My fairy strings are shriveled and weak. The ambrosia opens them up a little. It can’t repair them, though. Not totally.”

“You’ve got a solution, though! Everything worked out!” Scootaloo stood. She waved a hoof as she talked. “All you need to do is drink a little magic potion and suddenly everything is all better! I drink a potion and get stuck on the ceiling! What’ll help me fly, Sweetie? Do I get wings of gossamer and morning dew from Twilight? Do I just become some hokey airship captain? Do I strap a glider onto my back and hope I don’t just crash?”

Scootaloo dried her eyes. She sat down beside the coffee table. “I don’t know. I don’t know where to go. What to do. It just feels like everything’s against me.”

Sweetie Belle’s voice wavered. “I-I’m not against you.”

Scootaloo met her gaze. “Thanks.”

“I’ll… get you a place to sleep.” Sweetie Belle stood up. “You take… a bath. Or a shower. Or whatever you want. Just get yourself relaxed.”

Scootaloo walked up the stairs to the bathroom, while Sweetie Belle pulled a few linins out of the closet.

Scootaloo shut the water off and leaned against the wall. She pulled the curtains aside with her wing. Steam wafted around the bathroom. She cracked the door open and called down the hall. “Sweetie, where do you keep the towels?”

“Lower cupboard, beneath the sink.”

Scootaloo opened the cupboard and was met with a variety of towels, all rolled up and stacked by color. Most of them were embroidered with an “SB.” She grabbed the top one and rubbed her head. She wiped the fogged-up mirror, revealing her messy purple mane.

She turned away quickly. Her rear leg bumped the open cupboard door. “Ouch!”

She slammed the door. Sweetie trotted up to the room. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” Scootaloo snapped. She swung open the cabinet behind the mirror. “Do you have a comb I could—?”

It was the medicine cabinet. There was the usual first-aid kit, mild over-the-counter painkillers, antacid tablets, an errant bottle of perfume… and one silver cylinder. Scootaloo’s throat constricted.

“Scootaloo. What are you doing?” Sweetie Belle pushed the bathroom door inward. It rested against Scootaloo’s rump. “Close the cabinet. That’s private.”

Scootaloo didn’t take her eyes off the container. She licked her lips. “Ambrosia… helps your fairy strings, right?”

All the air in Sweetie’s lungs left in a rush. “Don’t you dare—!”

Scootaloo kicked the door shut and locked it. Sweetie Belle pounded from the other side. “Open this door! Open this door right now!”

Scootaloo grabbed the container of ambrosia and took it off the shelf. Her hooves shook so badly she dropped it in the sink with a clang. She scrambled for it and held it close to her chest.

The door handle glowed bright green. “I’m breaking this door down, Scootaloo! Let me in or I’m breaking down this door!”

Scootaloo struggled to get the canister’s lid off. Every time she managed to get a grip, it would slip away.

The door’s hinges whined in protest as Sweetie’s magic twisted them into scrap. “Don’t drink it! Don’t drink it! You could die!”

The cap popped off. Scootaloo held the ambrosia to her mouth. “But I could fly.”

The door crashed against the wall and hung askew. Sweetie Belle’s tackle took Scootaloo to the floor. The bottle of ambrosia clattered into the tub, where it flowed down, down, down into the drain. Scootaloo flailed and kicked, but Sweetie held her down with all her might.

“Stop it!” Sweetie said. “Stop it! I won’t let you die, do you hear me? I won’t!”

“I have to try, Sweetie!” Scootaloo screamed. “I can’t just keep going on without trying! This might be my last chance!”

“You will fly, Scootaloo! You will!” Sweetie sobbed. “I know you will. I have to believe you will.”

Scootaloo fought to grab the edge of the tub, but Sweetie pulled her back down.

“You have to keep believing, Scootaloo,” Sweetie said. “You of all ponies need to believe.”

“Why?” Scootaloo twisted as Sweetie Belle locked her forelegs around her middle. “How am I supposed to believe? What’s left, Sweetie?”

“You were always the best of us!” Sweetie’s throat was hoarse. “When life got us down, you were always there to help us up. Ev—every time we failed, you were there to tell us it was okay. Every time you failed, you let it slide by. You kept going long after it looked like there was nothing to hope for. You kept hoping, Scootaloo. You keep hoping.”

Scootaloo stopped struggling. She just lay against the damp bathroom floor, her cheek in a puddle of water.

“Sometimes dreams die, Scootaloo.” Sweetie Belle’s chest shook. “Sometimes you wake up one morning and find out that your dream is over. But not you. Never you. You kept trying. You kept hoping. You kept fighting. You kept it up long after anyone else would have given up. You never give up. You never stop.”

Sweetie’s tight grip evolved into a firm embrace. She pressed her muzzle into Scootaloo’s shoulder. “You inspired me, Scootaloo. You showed me that I don’t have to give up. S-so now I’m not gonna let you just give up.”

Scootaloo took in halting breaths. “I-I’m s-sorry…” she cried.

They lay on the floor together, both shaking silently. Sweetie wrapped Scootaloo in a warmer hug. Her voice whispered over the tears.

“There’s a tale that’s long been told
Of three friends in days of old
Who could not be torn apart
From the song within their heart”

Scootaloo shut her eyes and shivered. Sweetie Belle released her and wrapped a towel around her. The unicorn sat next to her friend, running a hoof over her side.

“With her strong hooves on the ground
And her head within the clouds
She stood like a mountain tall
Holding out her love for all”

As she sang, Sweetie’s voice gained strength. It was rough from crying, weak from screaming. But to Scootaloo, it still managed to sound…

“There the spark lit in her breast
Shining bright to all the rest
Where it linked together souls
With every note she let unfold”

It sounded beautiful. Warmth found its way straight into her heart.

“Like a magic lightning strike
Soaring higher than a kite
Holding out hope all her days
Never doubting she amazed”

Scootaloo laughed lightly. “I wonder who that is.”

Sweetie Belle smiled and shut her eyes.

“Close your eyes
You can hear them sing
Close your eyes
They sing on their wings”

Scootaloo closed her eyes. For a moment, she thought she could hear Rainbow Dash’s voice.

“There’s a song that’s long been sung
Of three friends who stood as one
Though faced with darkness and strife
They together lived full life
And found their dreams”

Scootaloo opened her eyes. She could definitely hear Rainbow Dash’s voice outside the window. She was about to say something about it to Sweetie, when the front door rattled.

Sweetie blew a breath through her nose. “If we ignore them, they’ll go away.”

“No.” Scootaloo stood up on weak hooves. She leaned against the sink to steady herself. “No, I need to say something.”

Side by side, they staggered down the stairs. Scootaloo smirked. “We’re a couple of real good messes.”

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. “I think we can be forgiven this once.”

They opened the door, revealing Rainbow Dash and Discord. Rainbow Dash’s eyes were reddened. “I’m so sorry, Squirt. That was awful of me.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Scootaloo looked at her hooves. “It wasn’t fair to just run away.”

Discord tapped his foot. “Since we’re all apologizing, I suppose I’ll add in my two bits. I’m sorry for misleading you about my plan.”

Sweetie Belle gave him a sour look. “Your plan? What are you talking about?”

“Well, frankly, when I said she needed a wing donor, I wasn’t referring to Rainbow Dash at all.” He crossed his mismatched arms. “There are other ways of getting a hold of a good pair of barely-used wings.”

Scootaloo scrunched her nose up. “I don’t get it.”

Discord held his hands to the sky. “These people I have to deal with! My word!” He pointed at Scootaloo’s back. “I’ve been in contact with the hospital. Ever heard of an organ donor?”

Scootaloo’s butt hit the floor. Sweetie Belle’s grumpy expression evaporated. They looked at each other.

Rainbow Dash looked up at Discord with a grin. “I think you broke them.”

Scootaloo jumped at Discord, wrapping her forelegs around his middle. He pulled back with a startled expression on his face. Slowly, gradually, he lowered his hands and returned the hug. A silly smile scribbled its way across eclectic visage.

Sweetie Belle tumbled backward with her legs splayed in all directions. “Finally!”

Gimme About Ten Years

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On a green hill in Ponyville’s park, Scootaloo spread her wings. She looked at them with her lips pressed together. She tilted the tips and watched the feathers wave in the cool breeze.

They were longer, just a bit. They were wider, too. They felt heavy when she folded them against her back, but when extended, they almost seemed to carry their own weight.

Not to mention they were purple. Not the same purple as her mane, either. They were lighter, like Twilight Sparkle’s coat. They were different. They were strange. They were new.

It had been a long summer, but they had finally found a donor: A mare from Los Pegasus who had lived in pain for quite some time. When her body finally failed, when her last minutes were upon her, she signed over her wings to a newly-founded wing-donor program with a smile. Her blood type matched Scootaloo’s and her body structure was roughly the same, so arrangements were made to ship them to Ponyville.

(1): It did not escape the doctors that such a spell would revolutionize surgery overnight. Several unicorn mages, including Twilight Sparkle, approached Discord for the secret to the process. He taught them what he could using his own chaos magic. Even now, former students from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns work to unravel the secrets of the spell, and how to cast it using safer magic methods.

They had arrived earlier that day. Scootaloo went to Ponyville General, where Discord made the switch (1). They had asked to keep her wings to study the fairy string deformations. She figured that was fine. She wasn’t going to need them.

At the bottom of the hill, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle waved. Discord sat behind them, holding a bag of popcorn. He popped a kernel into his mouth and gave her a thumbs-up. Scootaloo gave them a slight, nervous smile.

She shuffled her hooves in the long grass. A wingtip touched her shoulder. She turned to press her nose against Rumble’s. He backed away to give Rainbow Dash room to land beside them. Rainbow raised an eyebrow, and Scootaloo gave her a nod.

Rainbow Dash spread her wings and made one slow, precise flap. Scootaloo mirrored her feather for feather, but she didn’t put any magic into it. They stood face-to-face, practicing flap after flap, growing quicker with each pass. Rainbow held her wings straight out and took a deep breath in.

Scootaloo sucked in air and jumped. Her first flap knocked her sideways. She continued to hold her breath as her wings flapped haphazardly, sending her in a zigzagging path towards the ground. Rumble’s strong forelegs wrapped around her middle, halting her downward spiral. Breath wheezed out of her mouth.

She glared at Rumble, who just shrugged with a smug smile. She flapped her wings at a steady pace and pried his hooves off of her. Once she got her rhythm down, she chanced a look at the ground.

She was ten meters up, maybe more. And she was staying. She wasn’t falling back to earth. She wasn’t standing on a cloud. She was hovering.

Rainbow Dash whistled from up above. She waited on a cumulous cloud a bit further up. Scootaloo flapped harder, but started to wobble again. Rumble steadied her with a hoof.

He backed away, brought his wings up, and thrust down with a burst of invisible magic. He shot upward.

Scootaloo stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth. She brought her wings up and, before she could start falling, brought them down through the air. She zipped upward, bursting through the bottom of the cloud and getting stuck halfway through the next.

Apple Bloom’s laughter drifted up first, followed by Rainbow Dash’s and Rumble’s. Scootaloo tried to wriggle backwards out of the cloud, but only succeeded in bunching her wings around her head. She settled for tearing the cloud apart with an unladylike snort of laughter.

She flopped beside Rainbow Dash, who held a hoof to her mouth to hide a huge smile. Scootaloo stood, brushed herself off, and ignored the continued suppressed giggles.

Rainbow Dash fell off the side of the cloud, catching the wind and soaring over to another cloud carefully positioned a short distance away. She waved Scootaloo over.

Scootaloo took a running leap. She spread her wings in an attempt to glide to the next cloud. Halfway across, it became obvious she was losing too much altitude. She flapped her wings in shaky, stuttering beats, which knocked herself off-balance again.

Rumble pushed her up from beneath, carrying her the last couple of meters. She gripped the side of the cloud and used Rumble’s head as a stepstool. She blew a raspberry and pranced to the other side. He grinned and raised the cloud for her return trip.

She practiced gliding for a half an hour, after which she performed basic wingups. Her original wings had been thoroughly exercised, these had not. She finished up by fine-toning her hover until she could maintain altitude, go up, and go down, all without going splat.

She touched down on the hill and slumped to her knees. She breathed heavily, her smile never leaving her face. Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle gathered her up in a group hug, and the three friends laughed loud and long.

Discord rolled around on Scootaloo’s scooter, popping wheelies and popcorn simultaneously. She cleared her throat. He stopped, gave her a sheepish grin, and kicked the scooter towards her. She spun it around and stopped it beneath her rear-right hoof.

Apple Bloom secured the new, improved Scootsmobile wagon to the scooter while Scootaloo fastened her helmet’s buckle. Bloom gave her a wink as she and Sweetie climbed aboard.

Scootaloo spread her wings, and she was off. Sweetie squealed first with fright and then with laughter as they picked up speed. Rainbow Dash and Rumble followed overhead, while Discord kept the pace with an outlandishly-light jog.

She slowed to a safer speed once they reached downtown. Friends and acquaintances called out salutations as they passed. Quite a few gave Scootaloo a double-take when they noticed the color of her wings. Scootaloo just returned the gesture with a toothy smile.

She parked the wagon next to Sugarcube Corner. She was still pulling off her helmet when she was tackled with tiny hooves and peppered with questions. Pound, Pumpkin, and Patty Cake all wanted to know where the wings had come from, what she’d done with the old ones, and whether she was gonna be a Wonderbolt now. Rice Cake cooed from his seat on Pumpkin’s back.

Scootaloo took a peek at her big sister. “Maybe. Gimme about ten years and we’ll see.”

Sugarcube Corner was bustling. Muffins and cupcakes jumped off the shelves. Ice cream and root beer flowed. Pinkie Pie was a blur of motion taking down orders and delivering baked goods. Carrot Cake threw ingredients together in a skilled melee, while Cup manned the cash register like a dragon gathering its hoard.

Most tables were built for two or three, so the group of friends pushed two together. Pinkie gave a crushing hug to Rainbow Dash and Discord, and followed up with smaller—though no less warm—hugs for everypony else. She took their orders as they gave them, even though she already knew their favorites. She left with a whoosh of air.

Her note fluttered down abandoned, a red “rejected” stamped on one side. Scootaloo guffawed when she realized Pinkie was printing cake orders on the back of bills from the City Council meeting.

They parted ways a while later, though Rumble refused to leave without a goodbye kiss. Not that Scootaloo was complaining. Apple Bloom hitched up the Scootsmobile to her back and returned it to Sweet Apple Acres. Sweetie Belle retired early to practice. Rumble wobbled his way home, his heart light. Discord vanished into thin air, leaving enough bits behind to pay for the treat.

Rainbow Dash gave Scootaloo a hug. She held it for a long moment. When she broke it off, she kept her face turned away, mumbled a goodbye, and flew towards her cloudhouse. Scootaloo touched her shoulder to find it damp. She gave Rainbow a lopsided smile and climbed onto her scooter.

It was a quick scoot to Quills and Sofas, as usual. Her parents were waiting just inside the door. They also had questions. Had she flown? Had it been as amazing as she’d imagined? Was she going to fly again soon? Was Rainbow Dash a good teacher?

The answer to all of them was a resounding “yes!”

They sat together on the softest couch in the showroom, one that for some odd reason or another never seemed to sell. Scootaloo regaled Davenport and Roseluck with her stories of derring-do, of her near misses and triumphant victories. Accomplished with a little help from Rumble and Rainbow, of course. In the end, she wrapped her wings around her parents, drawing them together in a snuggle.

Scootaloo closed her eyes and grinned the cheesiest grin of her entire life.

“Yeah, I can fly.”

The Aftermath

View Online

Waxing On, Waxing Off

Discord lifted a foot and stepped from Sugarcube Corner to his windmill in a single bound. His furniture cheered at his appearance. “Settle down, settle down, it’s only me.”

He kept the objects dancing and cheering for a moment longer, before releasing them from his spell. They either clattered to the floor or settled into place. The fireplace lit itself as his easy chair scooped him up. A radiator and a bathtub played jazz in the corner.

He opened his scrapbook. Images from his time in Ponyville danced by as he flipped through the pages. About halfway through the book, he reached the first of the blank pages. He made a fist with his talon, which glowed with black light. Blue sparks and green embers drifted from between his claws as power built.

He opened his talon, and a moving picture appeared above it. It was a scene from earlier that day, playing out like a movie. Scootaloo jumped from one cloud to the other, her wings flapping frantically. He chuckled, snapped his talon, and froze the picture. He took in gently in his paw to set it on the blank page.

“It’s alright, little memory,” he whispered. “You’re safe. The chaos can’t take you anymore.”

A hoof knocked at the front door. He snapped the book shut. The bathtub hit a bad note. Discord glared at a clock whose hands were spinning rapidly. “Who on earth would visit at this hour?”

Discord teleported to the door and opened it. He glared down at his visitor, one Rainbow Dash. “You’re selling Fillyscout cookies, aren’t you?” he asked.

“It took me all summer, but I managed to put two-and-two together,” Rainbow Dash said. “We need a talk.”

Discord cupped his hands together. “Is this a two-way talk, or are you just going to yell at me?”

“Two way. I expect answers.” Rainbow wiped her eye with a rough motion. “Look, can I just come in?”

Discord shrugged. He stepped aside. “I’d offer you something, but I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Rainbow Dash pulled off her white scarf and let the coat rack take it. She gave the rack a careful glance and a wide berth. “Fluttershy always calls in advance, doesn’t she?”

“More or less.” A bowl rose from the ground with an ominous rumble. Discord picked something out of it and tossed it into his mouth. “Care for a shrimp?”

“Didn’t you just—?” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. She scooped up a shrimp and bit into it. “Been a while since I had griffon food.”

“Likewise.” Discord sat in his easy chair and motioned towards a couch made from clouds. “Give your derriere a rest.”

Rainbow took a seat and dipped her next piece in cocktail sauce. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Discord frowned. “Beg pardon?”

“About Scootaloo’s wings. You knew what the problem was from day one, didn’t you?”

Discord scoffed. “I’ll have you know that prying into a pony’s physical makeup without permission is a violation of personal privacy and is severely frowned upon by the legal system. I didn’t know until you two got back from that first trip to the hospital.”

Rainbow Dash hung her head and leaned on her forelegs. “You know, Discord, if you cut the horseapples this’ll be a lot easier.”

Discord crossed his arms. “Fine. How’d you know I knew?”

“When we found Scootaloo, after she ran away, you said you’d been in contact with the hospital.” Rainbow Dash rubbed a hoof along the cloud cushion. “I didn’t think too much about it at the time, ’cause of the whole ‘me being a big doody-head’ part, but it just hit me. Why were you, Discord, King of Chaos, in contact with hospitals at all? Let alone for a ‘while.’ The answer is that you wouldn’t have, unless you already knew about Scootaloo.”

Rainbow Dash spread her wings. “Unless you’d already figured out the solution.”

Discord bared his snaggletooth. “So what? Are you going to take me in for violating her privacy? Are you going to go tell Celestia on me?”

“I want to know why the heck you did it!” Rainbow Dash hovered in the air. “You could have just sat there, with your silly little jokes and your snarky comments, and done nothing. You could have even just waited to see what we found out before trying to fix it. No. You went out of your way to find out what was wrong, and then went way out of your way to make everything okay.”

Her four legs hung limp beneath her. “You know, I already know why you poked your nose where it didn’t belong. It’s ’cause you’re a jerk-face. But what I want to know is why you did something good with it.”

Discord drummed his fingers. “I could ask the same of you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re Rainbow Dash. Wonderbolt. Hero of Equestria. Element of Loyalty. Darling of the cinema.” He shrugged. “What are you doing wasting your time with a flightless girl from Ponyville?”

Rainbow Dash grabbed him by the neck. “Excuse me? Who do you think you are talking about her like—?”

“It’s called an example. It has an acceptable amount of hyperbole.” Discord lowered her hooves. “I’m just saying, what reason do either of us have taking interest in Scootaloo?”

“Well, I just… you see…” Rainbow Dash scratched her neck. “I care about her, is all. She’s a good kid.”

“But why?” Discord popped up his footrest. “It’s hard, isn’t it? You really can’t think of a specific reason for loving and caring about this mare who isn’t even related. Don’t feel too bad, you’re not alone. It’s one of the fun little irrationalities in life.”

Rainbow snorted. “Twilight would probably say Scootaloo sets off a bunch of chemical reactions in my brain or something that tell my mind she needs protection.”

“Chemicals schlemicals. Rationality only helps you when life is rational.” Discord rested his cheek on his paw. “Did you really expect me to have a reason?”

“Yeah, even if it was as dumb as ‘her being able to fly will cause chaos!’” Rainbow Dash pouted. “There’s something there. I know it. You’re hiding something.”

Discord opened his scrapbook to a random page. “Maybe I just want to leave a positive impact on the world.”

Rainbow Dash nibbled on a shrimp. “Yeah. An impact like a carriage crash.”

Discord touched a picture of Rainbow Dash’s most recent birthiversary. Cheese Sandwich danced in the background of the frame. “Rainbow Dash, have you ever thought you were going to die?”

Rainbow Dash whipped her head around. Her muzzle scrunched. “Lots of times. Too many times. Probably haven’t seen the last time. Why?”

“Did you suddenly realize you had regrets?” Discord flipped a page and found one of Rarity’s fashion shows. “Did you remember things you hadn’t done? Things you wanted to do? When you were faced with the end, did you resolve that if you got out of it, you would do those things?”

Rainbow Dash brushed her mane back as she eyed Discord. “Yeah. And then I did them. Why?”

Discord let the book flop to the floor. “Because life’s too short to spend worrying about what’s going on inside my head, Rainbow Dash. Go home! Spend some time with your tortoise! See a movie! Take up knitting!”

The coat rack took her by the shoulders and wrapped her scarf around her neck. “Wait, what?”

“So long Dash,” Discord said as he carried her out the door. “It’s been a most pleasant conversation—”

“Stop it!” She scrambled out of his grip and flew high. They floated a few meters away, each scrutinizing the other. “Discord, are you dying?”

Discord ran his talons through his goatee. He inclined his chin. “No.”

He shook his head. “No. I’m not. I will most likely live until well after you and everypony else is dust.”

Rainbow Dash clenched her teeth. “Then what’s happening to you?”

“I’m getting a new lease on life.” Discord bent over and picked up his scrapbook. “I’m gathering a few worthwhile memories and stuffing them away in a very special place.” His ears drooped. “Why do you care?”

Rainbow settled down on the ground. She sat next to Discord and looked him in the eyes as best she could. “Because you did a really great thing for my little sister. That counts for something big in my book.” She lifted a hoof and hesitantly patted his arm. “If you ever need help, I got your back.”

She straightened her scarf and let herself out. Discord sighed. His radiator and bathtub switched to soft blues.

He turned the scrapbook to the first page. The first image he’d ever put in there was also the largest. Its cast was nearly as eclectic as he was. There were the six Element Bearers. The rest of the local Apple Family. The Cakes, long before they’d had their younger two children. The Cutie Mark Crusaders. Zecora and former mayor Merry Mare. Snips and Snails had even managed a last-minute photo-bomb.

It was from that second Summer Sun Celebration, then one where his plunder vines had awakened. A quick, spur-of-the-moment group-shot by a visiting Photo Finish. But also an inspiration.

He touched the picture where it depicted Fluttershy. He clicked his tongue. “Maybe it is time to tell her.”

Love According to Scootaloo

Apple Bloom threw a rock, which clattered against Scootaloo’s second-story window. She threw a second, then a third. She was about to wind up for the fourth when the window slid open.

“Alright, I’m up, I’m up!” Scootaloo yawned wide and looked at the moon’s position. “What the hay do you want at three in the morning?”

Apple Bloom danced on all four hooves. “Ah don’t know what tah do, Scoots!” she hissed. “It’s drivin’ me crazy! Ah can’t sleep a’tall!”

Scootaloo floated down on her lavender wings. She landed in a heap. “Gugh. Whazzat.”

Apple Bloom picked her up. “You’ve got a boyfriend, right?”

Scootaloo blinked rapidly. Her head dipped down until she caught herself. “’S not exactly a secret, Bloom.”

“Yeah, yeah, but how’d it happen? When didjya guys have that magic ‘Let’s get t’gether moment?’” She jumped at a sound that Scootaloo never registered. “Ah’m losin’ mah mind, Scoots. How did yah get his attention?”

Scootaloo snored.

Apple Bloom slapped her cheeks. “Hay, earth pony tah Scoots. Earth pony tah Scoots. Wake up, Scoots.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Scootaloo shook her head. “Um, what was your question?”

“How’d yah get Rumble’s attention?” Apple Bloom said. “How’d you guys get together?”

Scootaloo stared blankly. “I didn’t do anything. We just acted like we always do and we went to a movie and I dunno.” She gave a truly titanic yawn. “Dinner was probably the worst part of it. What’s got you interested all of a sudden?”

Apple Bloom pressed her lips together and scrunched up her nose.

Scootaloo’s eyes brightened. “Oh my gawsh. You have a crush.”

Apple Bloom waved her hooves. “Don’t you go tellin’ nopony.”

“Who is it? Is he nice? Is he handsome?” Scootaloo’s expression turned from a stupid grin to a sour grimace. “Cheese Louise, please tell me it’s not Featherweight.”

“No. What? No! What! No!” Apple Bloom rubbed her temples. “That fool colt practically worships the ground Twilight Sparkle walks on. It’s Spike.”

Scootaloo had a quick chuckle at Featherweight’s expense. The laughter died. “Wait. Spike?”

Apple Bloom tied the end of her tail in knots. “Ahuh.”

“As in, ‘Librarian of Ponyville’ Spike?”

“Yeah.”

“As in, ‘Spike the Dragon’ Spike?”

“Eeyup.”

“Um,” Scootaloo said. She rubbed her foreleg. “You know, Spike’s a nice dude and all, buuut… He’s kinda a dragon.”

Apple Bloom cocked an eyebrow. “Y’ think that ain’t obvious?”

“I mean, he’s a dragon.” Scootaloo spread her wings. “Like, really a dragon. A gem-eating, fire-breathing, gold-hoarding—”

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom breathed. She got a dreamy, far-away look in her eyes.

Scootaloo waved a hoof before her eyes. “Scoots to earth pony, Scoots to earth pony. Come in, earth pony.”

“Touché.” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “Ah dunno. He’s strong, and gentle, and nice, and those eyes just beg tah be stared into. And he has a job. Gotta point that one out.”

Scootaloo’s body pleaded for the warm embrace of her covers. “Yeah, so great. You’ve got a crush on Spike. What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Ah don’t know! That’s why ah came tah you!” Apple Bloom grabbed Scootaloo’s shoulders. “You ’n Rumble ’ve been together fer three months now. What’s yer secret? Ah got the gosh-darn crush, now what they hay am ah supposed to do?”

Scootaloo scratched her ear. “Find out how he feels?”

“Ah can’t just go up and ask him! What if’n it scares him away?” Apple Bloom paced in a circle. “What if we ain’t right for each other? What if we have a messy break up that leaves us both broken an’ sorry? What if he don’t like me in the first place?”

“What if you don’t try to find out and you just live your whole life regretting?”

Apple Bloom winkled her forehead. “Yeah, ah know ah’m just spoutin’ hooey. But come on, this is terrifyin’.”

Scootaloo reached up to wrap her foreleg around Apple Bloom’s shoulders. When she realized she couldn’t reach, she flapped her wings and gained a little altitude. “What you do is calm down, go home, get some rest, and then tomorrow you can figure out a way to spend some time with Spike. Visit the library and say hi. Offer him an apple or something. You guys are good with apples. Just try to be yourself and not ‘Creepy Stalker Apple Bloom’.”

“Ah am not a creepy stalker!”

“Good, so it won’t be an issue.” Scootaloo gave Bloom a shove. “So go home and let your buddy have a good night’s sleep. See you when the sun comes up.”

Scootaloo flew up to her window and crawled back inside. Apple Bloom gaped.

“Hay! Hay, don’t just leave me out here!” she said “Ah don’t know what tah do!”

“Good night, AB.”

“You can’t just go abandon yer friend in her time o’ need!”

“Just be yourself!”

“Ah am mahself!”

“Then be yourself around him!”

A light appeared in a nearby house. Miss Mare poked her head out a window. “Whoever’s out there, shut the heck up! Some ponies are trying to sleep!”

Scootaloo ducked inside her room, while Apple Bloom ducked around a corner. They stayed like that until they heard the former mayor’s window shut.

Scootaloo glared down. “Fine, you want my advice? Just go up to him and kiss him. Bam, smack-dab on the lips. Hold it for a good long time, too, just in case there were any doubts that you meant to do it.” She narrowed her eyes. “Even better. Write an epic, hundred-stanza love ballad about him and sing it. Outside his window. At three-o’-clock at night.”

Apple Bloom’s face fell. Her ears drooped, her mouth curved down in a pronounced frown, and her eyes grew watery.

Scootaloo’s scowl softened. “Apple Bloom…” She held up a couple feathers. “I’ve had exactly two boyfriends. One of them turned out to be a pretty sucky person. I’m not sure it’s me you should be going to for advice.”

“What am ah supposed to do?” Apple Bloom asked. “Applejack’s never been interested in hardly anypony, and ah can’t really go to Big Mac.” She bowed her head. “Ah miss Granny Smith.”

Scootaloo tapped a hoof against her windowsill. “What about Cheerilee? She and Big Mac were making goo-goo eyes at each other for years before they did anything about it.” She coughed into her hoof. “Mostly our fault. Ask her how they got together. It looks like they’ve held up pretty well.”

Apple Bloom bobbed her head. “She is mah sister. In law. Ah guess ah could talk tah her ’bout it.” She turned around. “Thanks, Scoots.”

Scootaloo leaned her cheek on the window pane. “Hay, AB.”

Apple Bloom looked up.

“You’re pretty special, you know. Don’t go forgetting that.” Scootaloo winked. “I think Spike ’ll see it, too.”

Apple Bloom smiled. “Good night, Scoots.”

“Good night, Apple Bloom.”

Encore

Sweetie Belle stood backstage, polishing her glasses obsessively. She’d run through warm-ups again and again. She’d practiced for months. She’d gone over every line of every stanza of every verse. She was ready to perform.

She couldn’t stop her heart from wanting to burst out of her chest. She flashed back to her audition, five years before, that had only ended in tears.

She didn’t have to go on. If she told the director, they would just move on to the next act. Only a few people would be disappointed. She could easily explain her situation to them. She really didn’t have to sing again, much less in public.

She looked at her cutie mark of a swinging, silver bell. She flashed back nine years, to the day she’d promised herself… what, exactly? That she would sing onstage? No, that wasn’t it at all. She just remembered the song, the other ponies around her singing along, and how it felt as though all of their hearts were connected.

She promised herself that she would feel that connection again. She had, that night Scootaloo came to her house and nearly took her ambrosia. The night Scootaloo nearly died. When she sang, she felt her heart and Scootaloo’s connect. She felt that friendship bind them together.

She’d already fulfilled her promise. She didn’t need to sing again. She could just go back to Carousel Boutique and make clothes and—

Rarity walked backstage, wearing a simple, elegant, silvery gown. “Hello, Sweetie Belle.”

Sweetie took a deep breath and raised a regal forehoof. “Lady Rarity.”

Rarity lifted her hoof to match. She smiled and held her forelegs out. “Come here.”

Sweetie ran into her embrace. She rubbed her cheek against her older sister’s. “Rarity! Oh my goodness! I didn’t know you were coming all the way from Canterlot!”

“Of course! I couldn’t miss my sister’s first show in so very, very long.” A tear escaped Rarity’s eye. “I’m so proud of you, Sweetie.”

Sweetie Belle pulled away. She touched the purple flower in her mane. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I can do it.”

Rarity’s smile vanished. She blinked. “No? What’s the matter?”

Sweetie closed her eyes. “It hurts. After I got my cutie mark, I burned myself because my fairy strings failed. When I went for my audition, I failed because I was so stressed it just flopped. Things always get out of my control, and then the things I can control… I mess them up. Always.”

Rarity put a hoof to her lips. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry—”

“How do you do it, Rarity?” Sweetie Belle sighed. “How do you get life so perfect?”

Rarity shook her head. “My life is not perfect, I’m afraid. I still face troubles and my own selfish wants on a daily basis.”

“Yeah, but…” Sweetie adjusted her hemline with a spell. “But you’re living your dream. You’re part of Canterlot high-society. You own a whole chain of boutiques. You even have the ear of a princess.”

Rarity smirked. “Well, it’s not like Twilight was going to use it for anything else.”

Sweetie giggled lightly. She looked at the stage. Lyra Heartstrings was strumming away a haunting melody on her lyre. A shiver ran up Sweetie’s spine. “You’ve got everything you ever wanted.”

Sweetie just barely caught Rarity’s murmured “Not nearly.” She looked up and was about to respond, but Rarity hugged her from behind.

“Life doesn’t end after the dream is met,” Rarity said. “Struggles come just as often now as back when I was a simple seamstress from Ponyville.”

Sweetie Belle’s upper lip drew back. “And yet there you are, on the cover of every magazine from here to Fillydelphia.” She pulled away from Rarity and walked across the room. She peered around the large curtain at the crowds watching the show. It was a good turnout by Ponyville standards, though nothing compared to what larger cities would see.

Rarity gently puckered her lips. “You shouldn’t measure yourself against me like that.”

“No?” Sweetie Belle threw her hooves in the air. “I shouldn’t try to be like the top success story in Equestria? The most famous dress designer in the Allied Kingdoms? I shouldn’t try to reach your pinnacle of perfection because I could never be as good as you?”

“Because if you’re so focused on copying me, you’ll never reach your own potential.” Rarity fought to keep her voice level. “You were meant for so much more than to be another cookie-cutter, dime-a-dozen Rarity.”

Sweetie Belle turned away. She walked to the edge of the stage, where the edge of the sound-proof spell shimmered. Lyra was wrapping up.

“Sweetie,” Rarity said, “why did you agree to sing tonight?”

Sweetie hugged herself. “B-because I thought I could again. Scootaloo never gave up, and she found her dream. But… It hurt so much. It hurt so much to fail. What if I fail again?”

“Then it will hurt again.” Rarity appraised a few costumes halfheartedly. “It will continue to hurt. Every time you fail to meet some mark, it will be painful. It will hurt anew each time, too.”

Sweetie nodded slowly.

“But think,” Rarity said, “how much more will it hurt to not try? If you hold yourself back because you feel pain, that pain will never leave you. It will serve as a constant reminder. It will continually hold you down, telling you what you never accomplished. If you try again, you might fail, and the pain will be new. If you don’t try, the pain will fester.”

She put her hooves on Sweetie’s shoulders. “But can’t you see it? Out there, waiting? That’s your dream. There’s the opportunity to share beauty, to touch hearts, to spread love and friendship. There’s the opportunity to press onward and be everything you’ve ever hoped or dreamed of. There’s the chance to take charge, and be your own mare.” She gave a decisive nod. “When you achieve your dream—not if, when—then you will be able to look back on the hurt and say it was worth it.”

She nuzzled her cheek. “And look who came to support you. Your friends are there, in the second row. Mother and Father in the front.” She winked. “And do I detect a certain somepony off to the left?”

Sweetie Belle picked Button Mash out of the crowd immediately. She cringed. “Rarity…”

“All in good fun, Sweetie dear.” Rarity tittered. She laid a kiss on Sweetie’s forehead. “It’s up to you. If you want my advice, go for it. Take a leap of faith.” She walked towards the stage’s exit. “I’ll be out there. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what decision you make. You’ll always have my support.”

Sweetie Belle stood at the edge of the stage. She applauded alongside the crowd once Lyra had finished her piece. They nodded to each other as the lyrist exited stage right.

“Now the next artist is someone near an’ dear to mah heart,” Lord Mayor Applejack said into her microphone. “She’s got a voice like silver bells, an’ ain’t no mistake. Y’all are in for a real treat. Please welcome Sweetie Belle onto the stage.”

Sweetie trotted out to light applause. She waited before the microphone while Vinyl Scratch adjusted the sound board to the agreed-upon settings. The DJ gave the okay, and Sweetie spoke into the microphone. “This is for my friends, who never gave up.”

She bobbed her head as the music built up. When the opening was over, she added her own voice to the upbeat song. Her first notes were weak and nervous, but as she drew to the chorus, something touched her. Her heart felt light in her chest. She felt a smile creep across her face. Laughter bubbled up from her core and erupted as soaring notes.

“And you’ll know the magic is there!”

The crowd stood and pounded their hooves into the ground, nearly shaking the foundations of the stage. Whistles and cheers could be heard from the far side of Ponyville. Sweetie Belle bit back tears of joy.

Dead End

In a small motel in a small city, somewhere south of Ponyville, Diamond Tiara wept into a pillow. The pillow stank of smoke, as did the rest of the bed, but there wasn’t exactly anywhere else to stay.

Somepony pounded on the other side of the cardboard-thin walls. “Keep it down in there! There’s other people in this place, you know!”

“Go whine to somepony who cares, plothole!” Diamond shouted.

The words that replied were loud and angry. Diamond ignored them, focusing instead on forgetting that she was out of bits. Not near the end, not scraping the bottom. She was broke. Three months of hopping from town to town had drained her, especially since she hadn’t been able to keep a job anywhere.

Her door handle rattled. Diamond Tiara nearly leaped off her bed as the hairs on her back stood up. Her mind ran through emergency plan after emergency plan. She had a small knife stashed in her saddlebags. She was an earth pony, so maybe she could overpower an attacking pegasus or unicorn. Unlikely, especially if the unicorn knew long-range spells. The window was sealed shut, but she could break it with the busted radio on the nightstand.

The lock clicked. Instead of the feared angry fellow patron, or worse, the open door revealed Silver Spoon.

Diamond Tiara slumped to the bedspread. “Oh my Creator, I thought you were gonna kill me.”

Silver Spoon ran up to Diamond and hugged her neck. “I was so worried about you, Tiara! You just left without telling anypony! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?”

Diamond Tiara sniffled. “You were looking for me?”

“Of course. I couldn’t let my best friend leave like that.” Silver nuzzled the top of Diamond’s head. “You’ve very, very important. Don’t you know that? Now come back with me to Ponyville, things are—”

“I can’t go back.” Diamond pushed her way. “I’ve made too much of a mess. Everypony hates me.”

Silver Spoon shook her head. “Oh, Diamond. They hate the real you.” She tightened the straps on her silver-trimmed saddlebags. “The Diamond Tiara that’s coming back will be penitent, humble, and kind.”

Diamond Tiara sneered. “What are you talking about?”

“It’s like I told you, back before this whole thing started.” Silver Spoon looked at Diamond over the rim of her glasses. “You can’t just show the world what you think of it. Ponies don’t like that. They want everything to be nice and tidy. Friendly and compliant.”

Diamond Tiara walked past Silver. She poured herself a cup of lukewarm water from the bathroom faucet. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have a hard time doing that.”

“Well, it’s not your fault they don’t realize how special you are.” Silver Spoon removed her pearl necklace—which probably cost more than the entire motel—and slid it into her saddlebags. “It’s your father’s fault you lashed out like that. He’s the one who was going to force you to be a clerk.”

Diamond sighed. She looked at her reflection. Rumpled mane. Ragged coat. Baggy eyes. “I should have taken the job.”

Silver Spoon gave her a double take. “What?”

“Don’t you see? I screwed everything up.” Diamond downed her water. It tasted like dirt. “It wasn’t worth leaving Ponyville. Daddy would have taken me back, just like Scootaloo said. If I would have just swallowed my pride…” She smacked the countertop. “I wouldn’t be here.”

Silver Spoon reached into her bags. She pulled out a black choker. A gold chain hung from the front, at the end of which was a blue gem. She fastened it around her neck.

“I can’t go back. I can’t face Daddy after I hurt him like that.” Diamond Tiara moved to the bed and flopped down. “Best now to just try to start a new life. Maybe I’ll do better this time around.”

“Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah. Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah.”

The notes came from Silver Spoon’s mouth. The gray earth pony shut her eyes and swayed to the music.

Diamond Tiara wrinkled her nose. “Um. Is now really the time to sing?”

“Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah.” Silver Spoon opened her eyes. They flashed green. “Ahh-ah-ah, ahh-ah.”

Diamond Tiara shook her head. Her eyes grew unfocused. “Whoa. What the haaay…”

Silver Spoon placed her hoof under Diamond’s chin and lifted it up. She sang softly, yet clearly.

“We know that life can be so bitter
We know ponies can be so cruel”

“Silver, what are you—?”

“But I know how to live in splendor
It will be me that makes the rules”

Silver Spoon led Diamond Tiara out of the room by her hoof. The gemstone on her necklace glowed bright blue, spreading a faint haze of smoke around the dirty carpet.

“Why just live with hurt and pain
When you were born a fighter?
Take a stand and make your claim
We’ll solve the riddle and the cipher”

Diamond Tiara shook her head. Her mind was in a fog. Her eyelids hung low. “Don’ wanna.”

Silver Spoon pushed her along through the hallways. Ponies watched from their doorways, awakened by the noise. One look at Silver’s necklace sent most of the scurrying for safer pastures.

Outside, a carriage waited. It was black, with sharp edges and spiraling corners. Menacing carvings of grotesques, bats, chimeras, hydras, and all manner of other monsters shared space on the intricately decorated side panels.

“Your day’s coming, don’t forego it
You can pass the coming test
You’ll struggle through another hurt
And then become the very best!”

The two of them boarded the nightmarish carriage in the deepest night: the Witching Hour. The stallion at the reigns snorted, his head covered with a dark mask. He whinnied and raced off, away from the seedy motel in the small town, his cargo secure.

Diamond Tiara opened her eyes. The sun shone through the curtains, lighting the room with a hazy red glow. It was the apartment she and Silver Spoon shared.

She smiled. She was so glad to be back in Ponyville. Sure, it would be a struggle to pay Silver Spoon back her half of the rent, but it was a small price to pay for getting away from her father. She crawled out of bed and went to the vanity. She brushed her mane, glad to finally smell like something besides smoke.

If only she wasn’t trapped in Silver Spoon’s living nightmare.

She blinked at her reflection. Where had that thought come from? Silver Spoon had been nothing but her friend from the moment they’d reunited. She was totally cool.

She thought back to the nightmare she’d had that night. A black carriage with monsters all over it. Some mare with a magic necklace. Something about singing?

She had the same dream every night, but she couldn’t remember much.

“Diamond, are you up yet?” Silver Spoon called from the next room. “You’re gonna miss the morning radio show.”

The last tendrils of the dream vanished as Diamond combed her coat. “I’ll be right out! Leave some coffee for me.”

She scrutinized her profile in the mirror. She was a little skinnier after three months of barely scraping by, but that would go away with proper nutrition. Her mane was perfect, her coat was a glamorous shade of pink, and her eyes were hollow with horror.

She shook her head and took a closer look. No, her eyes were the same vibrant blue as ever. “Maybe I’m just tired.”

She jumped when Silver Spoon poked her head into the bedroom. “Come on, Diamond. Time’s wasting.”

Diamond held a hoof over her beating heart. She shook her head and smiled. “Sorry. Got a little distracted… by myself!”

They giggled together before sharing a hoofbump. Diamond headed for the sitting room.

Silver Spoon wiped the predatory smirk off of her mouth before following.

Author's Notes:

Shill, shill, shill, shill, shill... I'm going to shill...

First of all, in case these epilogues weren't a clue, this isn't the end. It's the end of Scootaloo Will Fly!, but not of the series. Each one's going to lead into another story, the first of which will either be Spike's one-shot Lightning Struck Home, or Sweetie Belle and Button Mash's adventure Rhythm and Rhyme. Expect one of those in the next few months.

Later down the pipeline, we'll have Diamond Tiara's Sugar, Snails, and What That Entails, and Discord's journey to cure himself.

If you need something to read right now, well, we got that, too.

Fahr Drill and The Unmitigated Disaster both act as prequels to this story, and the latter actually leads right into it.

While those take place in Ponyville, Lord Mayor Applejack takes a look at the world outside. When Applejack joins Celestia on a trip to the minotaur homeland, political shenanigans ensue. Can the world leaders band together to learn about a new sapient creature before they tear each other apart? The answer is "no."

If you're looking for things that take place after this story, check out Nature in the Wild, a simple story about a group of friends on a camping trip.

The next big story, however, is DayBreak. Celestia survived an assassination attempt, but she was severely injured. It's up to Twilight Sparkle to assemble a team of ponies to track down the assassin and take her out. Meanwhile, how do Celestia's injuries affect the ponies closest to her?

If you liked this story, I'd say you should give the others in the series a shot!