> Scootaloo Too > by Bandy > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Scoots and Wings > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- “I got it!” Scootaloo—the human one—stepped off her snowboard. “What if we called you Wings?” “Wings. Huh.” Scootaloo—the pony one, who was currently also a human—pulled her goggles up so they rested on her helmet. The ice in her stare started to thaw. “That’s actually pretty cool.” “Yeah, cuz like, even if you don’t actually have wings here, it’s still super cool.” “It is.” If Pony Scootaloo—now Wings—had actual wings like she did back in her world, they would have been buzzing with excitement.Her eyes swept down the sledding hill, the fire in them restored. The malaise that had clung to her since she stepped through the portal yesterday melted away. “Wings,” she repeated. “Scoots and Wings.” She laughed and punched the air. “We’re gonna get a billion views.” Scootaloo turned to Rumble. “Are you rolling?” Rumble—the human one—raised the gimbal-mounted camera into position. “Mhmm.” Scootaloo hopped onto the snowboard and strapped herself in. “What’s up world! I’m Scootaloo!” Wings hopped onto Scootaloo’s shoulders. “And I’m Wings.” In unison, they shouted, “And this is double-decker snowboarding!” Rumble’s camera followed the girls as they slalomed down the sledding hill. A sea of powder parted before their overburdened board. They made it all the way to the bottom of the hill in record time. But they’d picked up too much speed. Their cries of delight turned to dread as they blasted through a wood fence and sailed towards an embankment separating the sledding hill from the nearby ice skating pond. For a split second, they went airborne. Scootaloo flailed her arms wildly. Wings tried to extend her wings only to realize she didn’t have any. They both came crashing down in the very center of the frozen pond. The ice split with a deep crack. Skaters raced off the rink in a panic as the ice came apart. By the time the two Scootaloos regained their wits, they were trapped on a single slab of ice floating in the center of the rink. “Did we—woah.” Scootaloo tried standing up and nearly overturned their little iceberg. “I think we did a backflip. Sick.” One of Wings’ gloved hands dipped beneath the water. “Ohmygosh, cold. Scootaloo, whatever you do, don’t move. If this flips over we’re—” “Rumble!” She turned to face the sledding hill. The iceberg bobbed precariously. “Rumble! Did you get the shot?” Rumble gave a big thumbs-up in response. “Radical!” Scootaloo punched the air. The iceberg teetered. Then it tottered. Then it dumped them both into the pond. Rumble kept on recording. Their action thriller had just become a comedy. Scootaloo took a long, loud sip of her chicken noodle soup. When she put the bowl down, she had a faint broth mustache on her upper lip. She watched as the living room TV flashed to the video of their ill-fated attempt at snowboarding glory. At the part where they flew off the embankment and smacked against the ice, Rumble added a hitmarker and an air horn. She flinched at the sound of ice cracking. Then she flinched again when she saw the view count. “Okaaay,” she said, “so what if that didn’t work? Plenty of viral stars don’t hit it big on their first try. The name of the game is volume.” Wings sat on the other side of the living room, wrapped in an oversized pink quilt. “I don’t want to do volume. That sounds like work.” Dang, thought Scootaloo, she has a good point. We really are the same person. But she wouldn’t be deterred. She struck a heroic pose and threw off her own blanket dramatically. “You and I are—” A shiver shot up her spine. She snatched the blanket and wrapped it around herself like a cloak. “You and I are the same person. And Scootaloo doesn’t just give up when it comes to doing dangerous viral stunts.” This was the point where Wings was supposed to leap to her feet and agree. Instead, she just buried herself deeper into her blanket. “What’s the point?” “What’s the point? That’s quitter-talk! Are you me? Or are you mouse?” Scootaloo sidled up next to Wings. “There’s a whole world of things to do out there. You may have a cutie mark in your world, but you don’t have a million subscribers.” Wings nodded out the window. The sun was disappearing behind the snow-covered rows of houses. “We already lost the light. Let’s just stay in.” Scootaloo balled up her blanket cloak in frustration. “Ugh, fine.” She glanced around the room. Think, Scootaloo. What would I want to do if I were me? Her eyes landed on the cluster of consoles and wired controllers under the TV. “Wanna play video games?” Wings shrugged. “Sure.” “Great! Why don’t you pick something out? I’ll get us some hot cocoa.” Scootaloo made her way into the kitchen and set some milk to simmer on the stovetop. As she waited, she wandered over to the window above the sink. Another few inches of snow had fallen since this morning, with another few inches still on the way. If it kept up through the end of the weekend, school would call a virtual day for sure. She’d get to sit by the fireplace in her PJ’s and text her friends. The thought filled her with warmth. Her phone buzzed. It was a text from Rainbow Dash—the pony one. The connection between worlds was surprisingly snappy. hey kid. how’s my scoots doing? she’s having a great time we’re about to play video games nice nice is she feeling any better? yea she’ll be fine shes got a little cold thats the spirit lol but i meant like is she better better oh eh still kinda the same kinda mopey, kinda bleh okay thanks for the update just keep doing what you’re doing i trust you WE trust you thanks we’re all really grateful for what you’re doing this is a rough time of year for her but if shes got you, she’ll be good you're literally her so you know what she needs to feel better Scootaloo’s eyes shifted to the snowbanks outside, but her mind lingered on the text. You know what she needs. A little knot of stress started to form in her stomach. Why did everyone keep saying that? The milk boiled over. A jet of flame shot from from the burner. Scootaloo let out a yelp. The phone slipped from her hands as she rushed to turn the burner off. “Everything okay in there?” Wings asked from the living room. “Fine! Fine.” The milk settled and the flames died down. “Everything’s fine.” She cautiously flipped over her phone. No cracks. She breathed a sigh of relief. To herself, she muttered, “Everything’s awesome.” Scootaloo emerged from the kitchen with three cups of cocoa on a tray and a cavalier smile on her face. “Rumble!” Rumble, who had been sitting quietly on the couch the entire time, looked up from his laptop. “Mm?” “Can you hook vintage gaming hardware up to the internet?” “Uh. Maybe? What are you trying to do?” Scootaloo’s face twisted into a smile. A winning smile. “We’re gonna stream.” Scootaloo climbed up to the tippy top of her in-game mountain home and surveyed her kingdom. Her ancient graphics card was working overtime to pump out the pixelated landscape in all its splendor. The frame rate took a sharp dip every time her character moved. But she was gaming. “I don’t think this is working,” Wings said. “What?” Scootaloo turned around in-game to look at Wings’ character. “Look how pretty it is.” Wings—the IRL one—pointed to the second monitor they’d appropriated from the family office, where their chat and streaming analytics were displayed. The view count had been stuck at five for an hour. As they watched, it dropped to four with an unceremonious plip. “Hey, wait! Don’t leave!” Scootaloo grabbed the mic and put it a little too close to her face. “We’re. Uh. Doing a streaming giveaway! A random viewer is gonna get a... uh... new Playstable X!” The view count jumped up to six. “You have a Playstable X?” Wings asked. “Uh.” The view count went back to four. Scootaloo let out a groan and tossed her controller onto the couch. “We’re doing something wrong. We should be raking in viewers right now.” “We could just play the game, you know.” “Are you kidding? Playing games by yourself is weird. Streaming it means you’re not alone, which makes it not weird.” “We’re not by ourselves. There’s two of us.” “We’re sorta by ourselves. Cuz—” “Cuz we’re the same person.” Wings rolled her eyes. “Right.” “Trust me on this one. It’s like having a bunch of little brothers and sisters watching you play.” Scootaloo almost asked her if she ever had a sibling who never wanted to play but always wanted to watch, but wisely shut her mouth before it could come out. Wings sunk into the couch with a sigh. She fiddled with the joystick so her character spun around in circles. “I don’t feel like playing video games anymore.” “What? We just got on!” “I dunno.” She set the joystick aside. “I’m just not feeling it.” “We just need to get a few more viewers. Then it’ll start making sense.” Scootaloo scrambled for an idea. “I guess I have an inflatable pool in the attic. We could—” A lightbulb went off. “Wait! I’ve got a better idea. We should cry.” Wings raised an eyebrow. “We should cry?” “Yeah! Everyone loves a drama stream. It’ll be cathartic.” Scootaloo paused. “If you got anything you want to get out of your system, that is.” Wings set the controller down. “Maybe we should just turn in early.” Scootaloo leapt into action. She knew all too well the power ‘let’s turn in’ had on slumber parties and CMC hangout sessions. She had to come up with something fast. “Mods!” she blurted out. “Mods?” “Yeah. Mods. Everyone loves mods.” Wings gave her a confused look. “Mods like, moderators? I don’t think anyone likes them.” “No, mods.” Scootaloo grabbed her controller and pulled up her console’s browser. The first search result for ‘mods’ was a website called 1337m0dz.ru. “See? There’s a million of these things. We could pick one at random—” She sorted by newest and clicked on a file package called ultra_ray_tracers_maxresdefault.exe. “And find the next big thing. By next week, everyone’s gonna be talking about this.” She hit the download button. “We’re gonna be trendsetters.” As the file downloaded, a faint high-pitched whine filled the air. The two girls turned their attention to the console itself. Perplexed, Scootaloo turned the console around. It was the cooling fans—the more the file downloaded, the faster they spun. “Is that supposed to happen?” Wings asked. “Of course it is. Look at the screen. The graphics are already better.” “I don’t think that’s how that works.” “Maybe not in Equestria.” “What?” Wings cocked her head. It was getting harder to hear over the growing whine of the fans. “Can you say that again?” Scootaloo raised her voice. “I said, maybe not in—” The console let out a horrible grinding sound. The fans burst out of the back of the unit and embedded themselves into the wall. A miniature ball of fire consumed the console. For a split second, the graphics were glorious, the best Scootaloo had ever seen. Then the screen went black. Wings screamed. Scootaloo ripped the cables out of the console and scooped it up. Sparks flew into her face and threatened to catch her hair on fire. One got into her mouth. It tasted like putting battery prongs against her tongue. She made it out the front door and chucked the console into a snowbank. The fire fizzled out. Grey smoke puffed from the partially-melted exhaust ports. Scootaloo had mown a hundred lawns and flipped ten thousand burgers to afford that console. Now it was going up in smoke, the heat from its combusted insides flashing to steam in the winter air. Scootaloo turned around and found Wings lingering in the doorway, wrapped head to toe in an oversized blanket. She locked eyes with Scootaloo, and she must have seen something on her face, because she flinched. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Scootaloo’s voice cracked. Cold air made her throat feel raw. “It’s fine. It’s no big deal.” “Do consoles cost as much in your world as they do in mine?” Wings asked. “No,” she lied. “I’ll get another one next week.” Wings retreated into her blanket. “What a bust.” Scootaloo tried to laugh. “Yeah. Serious bummer.” The two girls stared at the smoldering wreckage of the console. Snow started to fall. “We should turn in,” Wings said. Scootaloo tried to muster up the strength to protest. But she had nothing left. “Yeah.” She poked her head inside. “Rumble!” Rumble peeked around the corner. “Hm?” “We’re gonna go to bed. Build us a pillow fort.” Rumble set his laptop down and went to work. The snowboarding clip video he’d made earlier was still on screen. The image was that of a screaming Scootaloo trying to grab the hand of Wings, who was already half-submerged in the freezing pond. If she hit play, she’d watch herself backflip off the ice chunk and belly flop into the freezing water. What a bust, she thought. The pillow fort was a masterpiece, complete with vaulted chair ribs and a flashlight chandelier. Scootaloo and Wings bedded down in a nest of sleeping bags and tie blankets. Rumble stood guard in the hallway. As Scootaloo was drifting off, she heard the muffled buzz of her phone. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure Wings was asleep before reading the message. hey sport hows it going good no great wait really? dont sound surprised sorry sorry lol its not you she can get powerful mope energy if that makes sense well shes doing great now thats great!! have a good night, thanks again Scootaloo sighed and set the phone down. No sooner had it left her hand than it buzzed again. hey sport twi’s asking me to ask you if shes actually feeling better like for real for real feeling better twi’s question not mine she really is feeling better we’re like two peas in a pod or two scootaloos on a snowboard LMAO but yeah shes feeling great ok ok i dont doubt you we’re really happy to hear she’s feeling better was she really that bad? i mean i’ve only known her for a few days but she’s not like catatonic she gets this way every hearths warming christmas* my bad can i ask you something weird shoot are you adopted too? yes but you have a family yeah i was adopted thats what adopted means ok ok true tbh humans have much better systems in place for dealing with orphans and stuff maybe not emotionally but we have you beat when it comes to paperwork paperwork??? lameeee i dont even mind losing at paperwork yuk lol sorry if bringing that up was weird not weird all good okok we all really appreciate what you're doing this is good for her you know what she needs Scootaloo glanced over her shoulder. Wings was curled up in a ball facing away from her. She’d wrapped herself up in a blanket so her face was hidden. Scootaloo replied: yup shes doing just fine here no need to worry tell twilight she doesn’t worry lmaooo good call gn sport happy hearths warming merry christmas gn Scootaloo shimmied out of the pillow fort before the sun rose, doing her best not to wake Wings. She made her way to the kitchen and quietly began making breakfast. Outside, a grey haze floated atop the snow. It was Christmas Eve, and something just didn’t feel right. The smell got Wings out of bed. She stumbled down the stairs and stopped just shy of entering the kitchen. Scootaloo nodded to a plate of eggs and bacon and toast. “Don’t be bashful.” Wings plopped herself down and tucked in. “Thanks,” she said between bites. “Want more eggs?” “I’m good, thanks.” Scootaloo shoveled more eggs onto her plate anyway. “How about coffee? Want coffee?” She poured a cup from a half-empty pot. “Cream? Sugar?” “Okay mom, take it easy.” A flicker of hesitation crossed Wings face. She hastened to add, “I actually would like some cream and sugar, though.” “How are you feeling?” “Better. I think.” “Good. That’s good.” Scootaloo chewed over her next thoughts. “Better enough to—” “Scootaloo.” “You didn’t let me finish. I was gonna say, are you better enough to have the best day of your life? Cuz it’s Christmas Eve, and that’s what we’re gonna do.” She paused. “If you want to.” “What if I just want to mope all day?” “Then I’d say we need to run a magic test to see if you’re a shapeling, cuz—” “Changeling?” “Changeling, yes, we’d to test to see if you’re one of those, because you sure as heck aren’t Scootaloo. Rumble!” Rumble looked up from across the table. His cheeks bulged with the last bite of his breakfast. “Mhmm?” “Get the camera gear ready. We’re going outside.” Rumble opened the door, said, “Nah,” and closed it again. He gave the camera bag to Scootaloo and cozied up by the fireplace to watch movies. “Coward,” Scootaloo muttered. “We don’t need a cameraman anyway. We’ll make it a found footage vibe.” The two Scootaloos made it about five steps into the yard before the weather took a turn for the worse. A fierce gust of wind blew powdery snow down their collars. Slush crept into their boots. The bulky camera bags slapped painfully against Scootaloo’s side with every step. “We should go back,” Wings said over the wind. “This stinks.” “Are you sure you’re me?” Scootaloo prodded. Wings scowled. “Good adventurers know when to call it quits.” “A real adventurer knows that good adventure need to be found.” Scootaloo pointed across the yard, where the flat snow-covered yard ended abruptly at a line of trees. The forest was barely five acres big, and not even adventurous Scootaloo had fully explored its depths. The noise of the wind abated as the two entered the trees. Scootaloo pulled out the camera and started rolling. Wings scowled and pulled up her scarf. “You’re gonna get the camera wet.” “Don’t worry. This’ll be great b-roll for our Extreme Adventure Discovery Compilation.” Scootaloo pushed deeper into the forest, brushing aside twigs and branches. They snapped back, sending snow tumbling down onto Wings. “What should we title it? Hearth’s Warming Adventure in Mystery Forest? Maybe we should do the horror angle. Something really clickbaity. Jumpscare, Not Fake.” Wings’ glare could melt a glacier. “Whatever.” “C’mon! What happened to Scootaloo and Wings? What happened to getting a billion views?” “I don’t care about getting a billion views.” “I know. I don’t care about the views either.” “Then why are you dragging me through this dumb lame forest?” “For—” Scootaloo stopped herself. “For you! You were gonna say, ‘for you’.” “Nuh-uh. I was gonna say, for the love of adventuring.” Wings groaned. “I can’t believe you. You’re so two-faced.” “Shut up.” “You shut up! You’re lying to my face. This is all a babysitting job to you.” “Nuh-uh.” “Yuh-huh! Everypony from the other side of the portal—you, Rainbow Dash—you’re all just trying to make me feel better because you feel sorry for me.” “Wings—” “No, stop it. I don’t want to hear it. I’m going home, and as soon as it stops snowing, I’m gonna go back through the portal and quit burdening you with my existence.” Scootaloo whirled around, venom on her tongue. Her feet slipped on a bare patch of compacted snow. She fell sideways through a line of bushes and found herself tumbling head over heels down a steep embankment. Wings dove for her leg only to be pulled down with her. The world spun like a washing machine, a rapid spin cycle kicking up great puffs of powder. A snowbank arrested their fall. Scootaloo managed to land with the camera above her head, sparing it from harm. She was dizzy, bruised, and covered head to toe in clinging snow. But the camera was okay. Beside her, Wings clawed her way out of the snow. Oh good, Scootaloo thought, two for two. The situation wasn’t exactly dire. But it also wasn’t not-dire. They had fallen into a creek bed. The sides were only about eight feet tall, but with all the snow and ice, there was no hope of climbing out the way they came in. Fallen trees and deep drifts of hard packed snow prevented them from moving to either side. They were trapped. “No one knows we’re down here,” Wings said. “Wow, this is some adventure we found!” Scootaloo aimed the camera at Wings. “Right?” Wings stared at the camera. Then she plopped down in the snow and pulled her knees to her chest. “They’re right,” she whispered to herself. “I’m such an idiot.” “Who’s right about what?” Scootaloo tried to sit down beside Wings, but she pushed her away. “Hey, watch it!” “You watch it.” “What’s your problem?” “My problem is, I know Rainbow Dash put you up to this.” “I was the one who wanted to do the forest thing.” “I mean coming to your world in the first place. Spending Hearth’s Warming with you. That.” Rats. “Nuh-uh. Not true.” Wings pulled down her hat so it covered her eyes. “Sure. Whatever.” “I mean, Rainbow Dash said you were looking to do something different for Christmas, and I thought it was a great idea, so I invited you. Who cares whose idea it was? It was a good idea.” “Bet you’re really kicking yourself now.” “Nuh-uh.” Scootaloo eyed the lip of the creek bed. It was so tantalizingly close. “Well. We’ll get out of this somehow.” They stewed in silence for what felt like hours. As the temperature dipped, they scooted closer to each other. But it wasn’t a friendly closesness. Far from it—Scootaloo was worried Wings would bite her head off at any moment. “What did she say?” Wings asked unprompted. “Rainbow Dash.” “What’d she say about what?” “What did she say to convince you to take me in?” “She didn’t convince me.” “Okay. But what did she say?” Scootaloo tapped her boot in thought. “She didn’t—” “Scootaloo.” Wings sounded tired. Two all-nighters in a row with a final the next day tired. The kind of tired that made her sound older than she really was. “What did she say?” Scootaloo sighed. “She thought that not having a place to go for Christmas was messing with you.” “Hearth’s Warming.” “Hearth’s Warming, sorry. She thought it was really messing with you, and you needed a change of scenery.” Wings scoffed. It hurt in Scootaloo in a way she couldn’t quite put a word to. “I don’t get it. I did everything right. Everything. This was an amazing, perfect weekend, except you hated every minute of it.” “Yeah, everything was so great.” “See? That’s what I mean! I did everything right, and you’re still miserable.” “I’m you, remember? Why don’t you look inside yourself? Honestly, maybe you’re a double of Rainbow Dash. You sound just like her.” “Is that... good?” “Yeah, you and her are both totally clueless.” A rustle of branches from above grabbed the girls’ attention. They leapt to their feet. Could it be another hiker? No, not a chance. It was Christmas Eve. Who was out hiking at this hour? It had to be an animal. “It’s a bear,” Scootaloo whispered. “Or a coyote.” “Or a manticore.” “Uh. Yeah. Or that.” The sound got closer. The brush at the lip of the creek bed swayed. The girls held their breath. A familiar face appeared. The girls gasped. Together in one joyful voice they shouted, “Rumble!” Rumble peered down at them. “I knew it. This creek is always tripping me up.” He eyed the camera bag on Scootaloo’s back. “Is my stuff okay?” “We’re fine,” Scootaloo replied, “thanks for asking. How did you find us?” “Airtag in the camera case. I thought it was weird when you didn’t come back for lunch, so I thought I’d check in and see how the shoot was going.” He looked at the walls of snow hemming them in. “Is this part of the bit?” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “We don’t need to be rescued, if that’s what you’re asking.” Scootaloo looked over her shoulder. “Right, Wings?” Wings was staring up at Rumble with stars in her eyes. Her mouth hung open. Little puffs of steam came out. “Uh. Wings?” Scootaloo nudged her. “You good?” “You were really thinking about us?” Wings asked. “Even when we didn’t tell you to?” “Well, uh. Yeah.” A blush colored Rumble’s face. “I guess I did.” “And it wasn’t just for your camera equipment?” “Eh. Heh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Who cares about a bunch of stupid cameras?” Scootaloo fumed as Rumble tied off a length of rope to a nearby tree. That was a sick line, she thought. Why didn’t I come up with that? Scootaloo climbed up first. Rumble helped her up, then offered a hand to Wings. Scootaloo bumped him aside. “I got it.” When Wings was back on level ground, she shook herself free of snow, then launched herself at Rumble in a hug so fierce it knocked him off his feet. “You’re the best, Rumble.” She planted a big smooch on his cheek. “Thank you.” Rumble’s head practically popped. Wings ripped off his hat and scooped snow in his face. Rumble let out a howl and retaliated in kind. Soon they were whooping and hollering and ducking between the trees and flinging snowballs. Scootaloo took two to the jaw before she snapped out of it and joined the fray. But it was a losing battle for her. None of her snowballs stayed together. Her throws were halfhearted. The fight wasn’t there. When they got bored, they headed for home. Wings and Rumble walked beside each other, chatting all the way. Scootaloo followed in silence. She couldn’t believe it. Wings was free of her funk. And they’d gotten rescued. And she didn’t have to lift a finger to make it happen. So why did she feel like she screwed it all up? Scootaloo and Rumble and Wings sat in front of a roaring fire. Three cups of cocoa steamed on the mantle, kept warm by the heat of the flames. From the kitchen came faint sounds of dinner being prepared, along with smells of baking bread and butterball turkey. Rumble’s parents were due for dinner in an hour. The tree lights strobed slowly in the corner. Everything was perfect. Scootaloo felt like total crap. Rumble’s cell phone rang. It was his parents, asking him to help them put directions into their ancient GPS. “Ugh, mom,” Rumble groaned, “you can just use your phone.” He paused. “Well, you have to navigate out of the call screen.” Another pause. “You don’t have to hang up.” Pause. “Don’t hang up.” Pause. “Hello?” Rumble stepped away to help his parents, leaving Scootaloo alone with Wings for the first time since exiting the creek bed. A moment of silence passed by, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Wings spoke first. “You okay?” “Yeah!” Scootaloo didn’t like the sound of her own voice. “I’m great. This is great.” “You don’t sound like you’re okay.” Scootaloo sighed. “I’m fine, really. I just—” She cut herself off. Her frown deepened. “Yeah. I’m good.” “You don’t have to talk about it. We can just chill.” Scootaloo nodded. But silence wasn’t satisfactory. The words welled up in her chest, dying to get out. The fire found a well of moisture in one of the logs. A high-pitched whine filled the air, getting higher and higher until it finally vented in a crackle of sparks. “Are we friends?” Scootaloo blurted. Wings eyed her cautiously. “Are we?” “I don’t know. I thought so. If we’re the same person, and I like myself, then I like you too.” She paused. “But I don’t know.” “You didn’t say that like you like yourself.” “I don’t not like me.” Scootaloo’s frown deepened. “I don’t know how to say this right. Hang on.” “Do you think we shouldn’t be friends?” “No! No, not at all. When Rainbow Dash and I were talking, she kept saying that I’d know what to do to make you feel better. Because you’re me. But...” She gestured at their surroundings. “All I did was screw things up. Rumble’s the only real friend in this house.” “That’s not true. Rumble’s a great friend, though.” “Yeah. He is.” She let herself take a breath. “Actually, Rumble’s probably my best friend outside of Sweetie and Apple Bloom.” “I think he doesn’t always see that. You should show him.” “Yeah. Okay.” She chuckled. “You’re pretty good at friendship stuff. That’s, uh, kinda what I was trying to say just now.” “About us.” “Yeah. That’s what I want to figure out. If we’re the same person, we can’t really be friends. We’d be something else. But I think... maybe we could be friends.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. This whole weekend, I did what I thought would be good for me, and we got nowhere. Then Rumble did something I wouldn’t have done, and that worked wonders. So... I guess we’re not the same person. Which means,” she was quick to add, “we could be friends! But I haven’t been a very good one, and I gotta own up.” Wings smiled and scooted closer to Scootaloo. “I think we could be friends, too. And don’t beat yourself up. You tried to do a good thing.” “Does that count?” “I think so.” “Whew, I think so too.” She frowned. “Uh. Not that we need to agree on everything, or whatever.” Wings laughed. Scootaloo noticed that Wings’ laughter was a little different than hers. The voice was the same. But the lift was unique. Unique. That was the word she had been searching for this whole time. Unique. Rumble poked his head around the corner. “Hey, I’m off the phone. Do either of you want more marshmallows for your cocoa?” “Yes please!” they replied in unison. “Wait!” Scootaloo jumped to her feet. “Let me get the marshmallows. And I’ll get you some more cocoa, Rumble. And—” She threw her arms around him in a back-breaking hug. “Thanks for being such a cool friend.”