Scootaloo lives a very happy life with many ponies who care about her. But it wasn't always that way...
Scootaloo is a very lucky pegasus. She has two great friends who she wouldn't trade for anything, her idol is her stand-in sister and she lives in a town surrounded by ponies who care about her. But is wasn't always like this. there was a time where a good day was when nopony talked to her. A time when home was the last place she wanted to go. a time when her only family, fueled her nightmares. Scootaloo would rather forget this time but as she spends a day out with Sweetiebelle and Applebloom her memories creep through the walls in her mind. And can anypony truely ignore where they came from?
Chapter 1 “How much further?” Whined the little orange Pegasus. “It feels like we’ve been walking for hours.” “It’s been ten minutes Scootaloo, quit yer belly ache’n.” Her friend Applebloom told her. “Well it’s been uphill.” Scootaloo said trying to hold back a smile. She loved to bug her. “It’s a small hill. Besides you ride around town on that scooter of yours for hours, can’t you handle a little walk?” Appleblom said clearly irritated. Scootaloo broke into laughter and after realising what she was doing Applebloom stopped and began to giggle too. Scootaloo noticed there was a voice missing from their choir of laughter. She glanced behind her. Sweetiebelle was behind them struggling her way up the hill. “I sure hope all this walking worth it.”
“I told ya’ll,” Scootaloo looked at Sweetie Belle and rolled her eyes knowing her friend was about to go off on another rant. “, the apples that come of this tree are the best I’ve ever tasted even Applejack agrees with me.” Apple Bloom had always looked up to her sister and even Scootaloo’s interest was piqued at hearing this. If there was one thing A.J. knew, it was apples. “She says it has something to do with all the sunlight at the top of the hill or something.
"Now come on we’re nearly there!” she said resuming her march up ahead. Sweetie Belle started with a huff and Scootaloo laughed despite herself. Sweetie shot her a mean looking glance and the orange filly composed herself “Sorry.” Sweetie smiled and she knew she was forgiven.
Applebloom wasn’t lying when she said they were nearly there. Another thirty seconds of walking and they were at the top. The apple tree looked completely identical to almost every tree in Sweet Apple Acres and Scootaloo couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. After the way her friend talked about this tree was like it was magical or something. She was about to voice this opinion to Applebloom but the look of beaming pride on her friends face stopped her.
“Who wants to try one?” Applebloom called “Me!” the other fillies called. Scootaloo missed lunch to come all the way out to the barn and from the sound of Sweetiebelles deep huffing it sounded like she’d worked up an appetite. The yellow filly approached the tree and stared at it for a moment as if confused. “Is everything ok?” Scootaloo asked
“Yeah it’s just,” her voice trailed off
“Just what?”
“I’ve never bucked an apple tree before,” She said quietly
Scootaloo just stared dumbfounded. Her friend who had lived on an apple farm all her life had never bucked a tree? “Every time I’ve ever come up here it was with my sis or big Mac.” She explained. Scootaloo felt laughter bubbling up inside her and she was about to let it out but Appleblooms face was so red it looked like she had a fever.
“Hey it’s ok,” Sweetiebelle reassured her friend. Sweetie was good at making her friends feel better. “We’ll just watch and offer advice.”
Applebloom looked gratefully to the little unicorn. “You promise not to laugh if I mess up?” she asked warily.
“Promise” she said.
“Promise.” Scootaloo echoed after a look from Sweetiebelle.
“Pinkie Promise?” After pinkie promising, Applebloom went to work on the tree mumbling about a trick her sister had taught her once. The two other crusaders sat on a nice grassy patch on the hill. Scootaloo listened to Sweetiebelle hum a tune that could only be described as lovely, a term which she hated to use.
As Scootaloo watched her friend buck the tree she felt an utter peace that only these two fillies could bring. She didn’t dare tell them this, for fear of being ridiculed, but she much preferred the days where they took a break from crusading to hang out.
Scootaloo’s gaze shifted to a patch of sky behind the shaking apple tree. A single cloud floated out on a blue canvas. The sunlight shone on it in such a way that made each round detail visible. It’s beauty was lost on Scootaloo however as her friends tune and the lonely cloud carried her thoughts away to a time when she lived on a cloud. The first ten years of her life. The worst ten years of her life.
Nights in Cloudsdale were almost always cold and even in the middle of summer there were no exceptions. On this particular summer night, a little orange filly sat alone in the dark on the side of a dead street, shivering. She didn’t mind the alone part as she’d gotten quite used to it over the past few years. The filly let out a long sigh and watched her foggy breath hang in the air for a few moments before it was blown away by a sharp gust of wind. She winced from the bite of cold the wind carried but still she persisted, desperately fighting the cold. “I think my feathers have frozen solid.” She mumbled to nopony in particular. She knew she had to go home at some point and dreaded the fact. She knew she couldn’t lie her way out of why she was so late this time. It was almost midnight. He was going to be mad.
Scootaloo looked around the empty street. She supposed it used to be busy because there were lots of shops with signs of elegant design. Now though the signs were unreadable and all but two of the shops had boarded windows. But that was fine with her because if there were no shops nopony would bother coming down this part of the city and if there were no ponies she couldn’t get laughed at. In fact the little filly returned to this street so often she considered it like a second home, maybe even a first home considering her house was her least favorite place in the world, and inside her least favorite pony in the world resided. She was out late. He wasn’t going to be happy.
Another long gust of wind almost knocked her over and it stung so much her eyes began to water. Her house wasn’t quite a home but there was a bed there, and it was warm enough. The little Pegasus summoned the will to turn and begin her walk home.
Before she set off she cast a look upwards, towards the stars. Scootaloo considered for a brief moment making a wish on the stars like she did when she used to believe in magic. A wish that would take her far away. “How long would I have to fly to join you?” she asked them. She knew there wasn’t much that got higher than Cloudsdale but they still seemed so far. Maybe one day some brave Pegasus would fly to them and find out how far away they are. But not her. She gave a few sad flaps of her wings and left the stars behind.
It was an hour after midnight before she got back to her house. She stood on the threshold of the property and stared at it warily like it was one of the odd ponies that stumbled upon her street drunk in the night. Scootaloo swallowed heavily before trotting to the door. If she was lucky, maybe he would be asleep. Or at the very least, not drunk. Her house was small and shabby just like the rest of the neighbourhood but most of the neighbours were nice to her. Like Mrs.Potts who always said hi to her on her way to school and even sometimes gave her a piece of candy if there was any to spare. Scootaloo heard her name used to be Pretty Potts but if there was ever a time when she was pretty Scootaloo wasn’t around to see it. But she did have a very pretty garden. She was Scootaloos favorite neighbour. She was the only one who asked about the bruises...
Scootaloo slowly pushed the door open and flinched when the hinges creaked. It was dark and quiet inside which gave her confidence he was passed out. She chanced a trip to the kitchen for a glass of water. The sink was so full of dishes that it was a challenge to fit the glass under the faucet but after moving some stuff around she emerged victorious. While she triumphantly guzzled down her water a voice from behind her startled her into choking. “How was the walk home?” he said his words slurred.
“Hello dad.” She said voice barely audible.
“How was the walk home?” he repeated simply.
“Fine” she replied not turning to face him.
“I’m not stupid you know.” Even from behind her she could smell alcohol on his breath
“Could’ve fooled me.” She mumbled
“I know it doesn’t take until one o’clock in the morning to walk home from school.” Her father said. His voice had risen. She turned
“I got lost.” His blue mane and coat were a mess and the bags under his eyes were even darker than usual. He was leaned up on the counter beside the fridge, on his other side an almost empty bottle of whiskey sat.
“Oh you got lost?” he said disbelievingly
“Yeah.” She said temper flaring. “Isn’t that what you said? ‘get out of here ya little rat ah’m tireda lookin’ atcha’” she said imitating his gruff slurred voice
“Don’t you dare back-sass me filly!” he shouted flinging his bottle to the wall. As it shattered glass flew across the kitchen. The little filly flinched but after realising what she’d done she stood up straight. After an outburst like that she couldn’t afford to lose face. Instead she chose the easy way out.
“I’m going to bed.” Her voice was barely above a whisper and she was fighting the urge to tremble. She turned and trotted swiftly out of the kitchen, towards the stairs.
“Hey, HEY,” her father called behind her. She continued to the steps faster now. She heard his hooves hit the floor from off the counter. “You better come back here right now!” Faster. “Don’t you dare walk away from me you-you CRIPPLE!”
She stopped dead and her wings reflexively shot out. She turned her head and stared at him through her wing feathers. “Don’t call me that.” She said her voice shaking.
“What, Cripple?” Scootaloo could practically hear him smiling. She fought the tears harder than she’d ever fought them before. He hit her where it hurt most and he knew it. She turned and sure enough his yellow teeth were prominently displayed.
“I’m not a cripple.” She said raising her own voice. Her dad’s voice had lowered again to take a more mocking tone.
“You’re right. I suppose you’d have to have had an accident to be a cripple. You were just born lame.” Scootaloo couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He’d never been this blatant about her...disability.
“I’m normal.” She said voice shaking. She was beginning to lose the fight against the tears.
“A Pegasus that can’t fly?” he laughed “Oh right completely normal.”
“SHUT UP!” she snapped. Oh no. His smile disappeared and his eyes blazed. “What did you just say to me, filly?” he said his voice slow and quiet and dangerous. She stared up at her dad. He towered over her. She knew how this would end. Every time she was brave enough to argue or talk back she either apologised or... had an “accident”. That was what she had to tell the teacher, if she even bothered to ask about the bruises which she never did.
But not this time. She would back down from this monster, not after what he said. “I said shut up.” His eyes were like fire he gave a loud growl as he tried to grab her. She jumped away and he raised his hoof and swung at her. She jumped again and he stumbled. In blind fear and anger Scootaloo spun around and bucked her father in the jaw. He sprawled to the floor.
He lay still. Her emotions were confused. Terrified angry and... hopeful. But then he coughed and stared at her incredulously. She could see that behind his mask of anger there was a fear in his eyes. A fear of her. And for a moment the sight of this made her the closest thing she’d been to happy in a long time. For almost a minute he stared at her not getting up and she stared back. He then raised himself to his hooves and she took a slow step back. He then spoke the clearest words he’d spoken all night.
He didn’t slur or stumble he just said flatly, “Get out.” And Scootaloo gave a slight gasp. She could tell by his tone he didn’t just mean out of the living room. “Get out of my house.” “Gladly.” she retorted and winced when her voice cracked and ascended the stairs to her room.
It was a small and bland room just like most of the house. There were only a few pieces of furniture decorating it. And almost empty dresser, a small but soft cloud bed and a shelf above the bed containing the only physical items that made her happy. Well, aside from Mrs.Potts. She hopped up on to the bed and grabbed two things. One was a jar of bits she’d been collecting since she could remember; most of them were off the street. The other was a photograph of a beautiful yellow mare from about 12 years ago. Her only picture of her mother.
She stared at the rest of the items on the shelf. Mostly crayon drawing from when she was a really little filly. Pictures of her flying in the clouds when she was all grown up. She decided she didn’t need to hold on to broken dreams where she was going. Wherever she was going. She placed her bits and picture into her saddle bag and cast one more glance around the room where she spent 10 years of her life. Her only safe room. She closed the door with an empty feeling.
She scarcely felt herself as she walked towards the door. She felt as though she were floating, which would usually be an exciting feeling for her. As she approached the door it seemed larger almost as if it were containing more behind it than it had before as she brought her hoof to the handle, she heard her father’s voice one last time. “Hey Scootaloo.”
She flinched at the sound of her name. She turned her head to see her father still in the kitchen, holding a bag of ice to his face. She expected the same speech as every other time he raised a hoof to her.
“I’m sorry Scootaloo. It will be different next time Scootaloo. It wasn’t my fault Scootaloo.” Whose fault was it then? She always wanted to ask but the question caught in her throat. This time he said something different. Something she could never unhear. Something that would haunt her for years to come.
“I hope you fall off the cloud layer, you little disappointment.”
The words hit her harder than any hoof ever could. They hit so hard it wasn’t until she had curtly nodded shut the door and walked into the night that she let the tears flow. And flow they did. Scootaloo sobbed louder and harder than she could ever remember. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was so sad. She finally stood up to her father and was finally free of that damn house but the only emotion she could muster was... heartbreak. She stared up at the world around her. She wasn’t sure if it was just the tears but suddenly the world looked much bigger. And she was alone.
“Hmm?” Scootaloo said with a start. Sweetie Belle made a motion to her eyes with her hoof. Scootaloo just starred for a moment and realised with horror that the tears had followed her back from her memory. “Oh, um no. I mean yes! Yes I am ok, just something in my eye.” She lied, wincing at her feeble excuse. She didn’t want to see these moments of her past herself, let alone tell her friends about it. Sweetie looked as if she was going to interrogate her further, but they both jumped in surprise as Apple Bloom squealed with delight.
“I did it, I did it!” she cheered as she bounced in circles around the tree. “Oh I can’t wait to tell Applejack, She’ll be so proud!” The two fillies noticed the apples littering the ground and shouted congratulations to their friend. Thoughts about her former life were still ebbing away at the back of her mind, but Scootaloo pushed these thoughts away. Not only for her own sake but for Apple Bloom as well. She was truly proud of her friend. She knew this was a big moment for her and Scootaloo wanted to be there for her.
As they settled down to enjoy the fruits of her labour, they were startled to see the sun beginning to dip behind the hills. They’d been out on the farm all afternoon! The three fillies sat down and stared at the beautiful colours while enjoying the apples. Apple Bloom wasn’t lying about the apples. They were amazing. They had an excellent crunch and were sweetened perfectly. These could almost compete with Zap Apples.
As the little Pegasus sat on the hill eating with her friends and watching the setting sun paint the sky with reddish hues, she was hard pressed to remember a time she’d been happier. Each of them sat wordlessly, enjoying each other’s company and hoping this moment would never end.
Scootaloo looked over at Sweetie Belle, wondering if she remembered her crying. But the unicorn just sat with a little smile on her face and Scootaloo figured she was probably coming up with a new song. About what she could never be sure, maybe about sunsets or friends or maybe even something completely unrelated. She hoped she could hear her sing it someday. Occasionally Scootaloo found herself jealous of her friend, not for her killer voice, but for her ability to pull words from seemingly nowhere and create a masterpiece of them.
To Sweetie Belles left sat Apple Bloom wearing a similar smile. She could be thinking about anything. Probably still beaming at her successful first time bucking apples. She was a creative pony too and a lot smarter than her classmates gave her credit for. Her creativity was more physical, like building and engineering and stuff. Scootaloo got jealous of her sometimes too. But then she would remember her scooter. Nopony was as skilled as her when it came to being on wheels. She didn’t need creativity she had style.
Her gaze returned to the sky. A sky she couldn’t be a part of. She’d gotten used to that though. It was just one of those things life throws at you, to test you. And her friends didn’t need the sky so why should she? The sky was a dangerous place after all. Especially for those without wings.
Somehow it was even colder than before. The wind tore at the orange filly viciously and wherever she could find refuge against some wall, the wind would almost immediately change directions, and she would have to move on. No stores were open at this time of night, except bars or clubs but even if she was allowed in, only really sketchy ponies hung out at those places. Ponies like her father.
She had considered more than once returning, even just for the night, but then his words echoed in her ears and she knew there was no going back. Maybe Mrs.Potts wouldn’t mind taking her in for a night? No, she thought there’s a difference between giving a pony candy, and letting her into your home. Besides Scootaloo had long suspected the Mrs.Potts wasn’t exactly... all there.
So on she walked, with no destination in mind. She had returned to her empty street for a bit but a group of ponies had gathered in the shadows of an alley across from where she was sitting and they were hollering like animals, and she left there as well. So she began to cry again. She didn’t care anymore, she had nothing to prove. Her breath came shakily, and her face stung where the wind hit the tears but she didn't mind. It felt good, as if she was letting go of something she never knew she held onto.
Scootaloo knew the streets and layout of the city quite well since she didn’t like to go home much. I the early days, her dad would come looking for her sometimes and she had to get creative and explore the streets. She noticed that if you move fast enough and in the right direction, the city looked as if it were rebuilding itself or falling apart around her. In Cloudsdale it wasn’t very difficult to tell what district you where in whether it poor or rich. All you had to do was look around at the architecture and the streets.
In her case, she found the streets were getting even worse. Every building was closed down and crumbling, and the street lights were dim and flickering. The air had a stagnant smell of alcohol and drugs. The wind had died down a bit, thank Celestia, and the street appeared to be empty. Many storefront windows were broken. Maybe she could go inside and take shelter for the night.
But the street had a claustrophobic feel to it like it was looming over her, stalking her. And as she walked she caught herself looking behind her quite often. Somewhere far off, glass broke and the wind whistled through the broken windows. Maybe this wasn’t such a great place to be stopping.
And then, all at once the wind picked up, the streetlight above her went out, and she saw and old stallion staring at her from across the street. With a gasp she turned and fled. She couldn’t stay in this part of the town, especially if her dad came looking for her. Things here were scary and dangerous, no place for young fillies.
The pillars and columns of Cloudsdale blurred around her. She was literally in the ruins of the city now. Dozens of once famous arenas and coliseums had been left to crumble. Now most of them were just museums and tourist attractions. Scootaloo tried to get her bearings. If she’d run from the poor district, to the old district she must have been moving east. Wait east? The realisation came without a second to spare as she came to an immediate halt at the end of the city. Two steps in front of her, was open sky.
Scootaloo swore to herself. How could she have been so scared, so careless? She breathed heavily both from fear and from the near brush with death. Scootaloo used to wonder why there were no guard rails of anything. Anypony could easily fall off. Of course after a few years she realised if most pegasi fell off they could just fly back up. But not her. I hope you fall off the cloud layer you little disappointment. The words rang maliciously in her ears.
Her tears tried to take over again but she refused to let them. She couldn’t understand it. Why should she care what he thought? He was a jerk, he was a drunk, he was a complete ass! But he is my dad. She heard these words as if they’d been spoken behind her. “No,” she said through gritted teeth. “He was my dad.”
She took a brave sniff and steadied her breath. She carefully leaned over the edge. It was still dark out but the moonlight was just enough for her to make out the landscape below. There was so much down there. Colours were hard to make out but it was still beautiful. There was so much variety, the wide plains and the bumpy hills, and Canterlot, perched high on the mountainside. But even the top of the mountain was much shorter than the height of Cloudsdale. The floor of Equestria was a long way down. A very long way down.
Suddenly the wind battered her again and for a moment she lost her balance. Her head took a sudden dip over the clouds. The little Pegasus let out a shriek. She was going to fall. I hope you fall off the cloud layer you little disappointment.
No. She refused to give him his wish. She dug her hooves deep into the cloud shut her eye’s and prayed. Some primal instinct told her to extend her wings and she did. But no matter how hard she flapped she couldn’t stop from falling forward. Gravity sought to undo her and she felt herself in open air. She opened her eyes and saw the far away ground about to become all too close. What a sad way to go, she thought. A Pegasus falling to death. Suddenly there was a sharp pain in her tail and she was no longer falling. She hung still for a moment and was transfixed as a little orange feather gently floated downward. And then she was pulled up.
She was laying flat on her stomach on the cloud. “Are you alright little one?” The voice of an old mare came from behind her. Scootaloo couldn’t draw enough strength to answer. It was all she could do to keep her lunch down and at the same time try to stop shaking uncontrollably. Why? Why did it have to be like this? Any other Pegasus would have just brushed it off and flown back up. But she almost... died. All because she couldn’t fly. Because she was a freak.
The Little filly began to sob and almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a feathered wing cross her back. Her first thought was that her father found her and she wanted to scream. But as she swung her head to her left she met eyes with an old mare, presumably the one who asked her if she was ok. She had a coat as white as the clouds of the city around them and her mane was the same. Her face was deeply wrinkles but set inside it were two eyes of bright green. “I take that as a no.” She said softly. Scootaloo sniffed and thought back. Right somepony had asked her a question. “Yeah I’m okay,” she said wiping her eyes and trying to look less like a wreck.
Suddenly she remembered the pain in her tail as she lifted. “Wait, did you...” the old mare just nodded. “Oh um thank you.” It sounded feeble and awkward and it kind of was. Not that Scootaloo was ungrateful; the mare had saved her life after all. But how do you respond to that? What do you say? The white pony didn’t say anything though and her face didn’t show any anger. Her face didn’t reveal much at all really. She wasn’t smiling or sad she just looked out to the open sky in front of them.
The little filly remembered the wing draped over her back and a sudden uneasiness came over her. Physical contact with other ponies wasn’t something she was quite used to. Well, aside from her father’s hoof. She shuffled out from under the feathery blanket and stood up. She didn’t leave though. This pony had saved her; the least she could give her was some attention.
Scootaloo was surprised when a slow smile crept across the ponies face and she turned to look at her. “You should learn to let ponies in sometimes little one.” She said. Scootaloo was surprised by the suddenness of her remark. She wanted to give an answer though so she said the first thing that came to mind. “They don’t pay me a second thought so why should I give them one?” She wasn’t quite sure who she meant by “they”. Her neighbours, her classmates, everypony.
The mare gave a light and warm chuckle. “You make a decent point filly, but nopony can go through life happy without friends.” Oh great Scootaloo thought. Friends were a topic she avoided as a general rule. “Look I really appreciate what you did for me and what you’re trying to do for me now but I made it this far by myself and I’m doing fine.” It was a lie and they both knew it. Scootaloo would be far away by now if it weren’t for the pony beside her.
“Hmm, yes I see you are doing quite well for yourself as is.” she said with obvious sarcasm. And then paused. “Would you care to share why you were you crying little one.” No she thought, so she decided another lie was the way to go. “Well I almost died back there,” She said with irritation. The mare was beginning to make her uncomfortable.
“I don’t think that’s the whole reason.” The white mare said. Scootaloo sighed. Her voice had a certain power to it, a wisdom. Besides this was the one of two ponies that paid her more than a simple nod the whole week so she might as well say it as it was. “He said he wanted this to happen,” she said, voice barely above a whisper.
“He said he hoped I would fall off and I did.” Her words became choked. “I thought I could be normal. I thought if I just kept trying somepony would see that I wasn’t just a... freak. But he was right all along. I am a freak. And he’s in a warm house probably sleeping and forgetting about me and I’m out in the freezing wind crying like a little foal, and IT’S NOT FAIR” she said raising her voice to a shout near the end. But then she quieted down “and it’s just not fair.” She could feel the lines her tears had traced across her face.
The the white mare just sat and listened calmly, and after Scootaloo was done talking she walked over and put a wing over her again. It was a comforting and warm gesture. It helped keep the wind off her back to. “Hmm,” the mare hummed “It’s true life is unfair sometimes. But it is from this inequality that we grow stronger, we push ourselves past what other ponies tell us we can or can’t do,” Scootaloo noticed for a moment during her speech her voice wasn’t that of an old mare but one of soft tone and wisdom. “And who better to help us conquer these obstacles than friends?”
“Yeah, well friends aren’t something I’ve got a whole lot of.” She mumbled disheartened
“Hmm.” She hummed again. “My little filly, only you can change that. I cannot tell you what exactly you’re future holds, but I can tell you it will be a sad future indeed if you must face it alone.” The mare looked out again into the open air to the hills. The furthest edges of the sky were beginning to change colour signifying the coming sunrise. Already Scootaloo could feel the wind beginning to die away. “Would you care to watch the sunrise with an old pony like me?”
Scootaloo could only nod and take a seat. The mare kept her wing around her, and between that and the cloud she was seated on, she was the most comfortable she’d been all day. Sometimes Scootaloo would wake up early just to watch the sunrise. They were always so colourful and they always made her feel better about her... home life. The rising sun that morning gave the sky a pinkish red hue. Her favorite kind of sunrise.
“I’m afraid I have to leave soon Scootaloo,” she said after a while. “But I will leave you something to think about, to point a hoof in the right direction.” The mare’s voice seemed to consume everything. Everything was silent. Everything was still. Only her voice occupied her mind. Her voice, and the sunrise. They both stared ahead as she spoke. “Your destiny lies not yet in the sky little one, for the sky is no place for a pony without wings.”
The little filly’s pride bristle at the remark for a moment, but she realized by her tone that she wasn’t trying to be rude or hurtful. And she knew she was right. She could feel it was right. Her destiny wasn’t up here in the sky. But she was confused. She wasn’t wingless, she just couldn’t fly. And another thought flew into her mind. Wait a minute, did she just say my name?
She was about to ask if she’d heard correctly when the sun rose above the crest of the hill and filled Equestria with sunlight. Celestia sure knew how to put on a show. Scootaloo swallow and found that her voice had come back to her. “Where should I go then?” she asked. “Equestria’s such a big place and i don’t-” she looked to her left and saw there was no mare beside her. With a gasp she stood and spun around but there was no sign of her. She was gone and Scootaloo found herself alone again. Her gaze turned back to the rising sun and she wondered for a moment... no it was impossible. But then who was that pony? Where’d she go? How did she know her name? Scootaloo never found a true answer.
But she couldn’t dwell on that because the white mare was right. She had a decision to make. Would she leave Cloudsdale, the only place she’d ever known where she’d lived all her life. She looked around her at all the white columns and buildings and streets. She looked up to see the early morning pegasi flying off to work or to the market. Then she turned to look at the ground. The sun bathed the land below in blazing light. All the mountains and forests and cities could be seen in glorious colour.And she knew in those cities were other ponies. Ponies like her, who couldn’t fly. Could she leave her home for that?
She smiled. In a heartbeat. The wind had calmed down from its original fury and was now just a light breeze. Scootaloo was alone. But that was ok. She had no idea where she would end up or how her destiny would unfold, but she knew where to start. She put the sunlight to her back and made her way to the carriage depot. She was going down to the ground.
The sun had dipped below the range of hills, flooding the orchard in night. It wasn’t dark though. It rarely was on sweet apple acres. Between the light of the moon and stars, and the fireflies dancing between the trees, the only time it was difficult to see was during the winter months. The orchard was much more beautiful at night in Scootaloos opinion. It’s much easier to appreciate something when you can’t see all of it.
Apple Bloom let out a wide yawn, which she didn’t even bother to cover. Sweetie Belle echoed, though with more subtlety, and Scootaloo couldn’t help but yawn as well. A sudden tiredness hit her like a brick and she felt about ready to fall asleep on the spot. “We should probably head back down, before Granny Smith starts to worry,” Apple Bloom said, voicing her thoughts. “Besides I’m about ready to hit the hay.” Sweetie and Scootaloo mumbled agreements and after a stretch and another yawn they made their way tiredly down the hillside. The trip down the hill was faster still despite them being tired.
Scootaloo trailed behind Sweetie with Apple Bloom leading the march. The Pegasus couldn’t help but notice how quite they were on their way down. Everypony seemed deep in their own thoughts. She was ok with that though. It had been a very quiet day, which is what made it so memorable. Before she knew it the ground had leveled out beneath her hooves and she was forced to say good-bye to Apple Bloom.
“We’ll hang out again tomorrow again right?” she asked sleepily. “Of course.” Sweetie Belle said gently and Scootaloo nodded in agreement. “I can’t wait to tell Applejack what I did today,” she said turning towards the farmhouse, smiling. “Good night gals!” she called behind her back. “Good-night!” they repeated, reflecting her smile. Sweetie Belle turned and began to walk towards Ponyville and began humming another tune. Scootaloo lingered beneath the Apple trees a moment longer, watching the farm-filly walk away. Then she turned and followed the little unicorn along the trail leading back to the main road.
Even though it wasn’t completely dark, there were some spots between the trunks of trees where the light didn’t reach, where the blackness seemed to almost grow and she became unsettled. The little Pegasus was glad Sweetie Belle was with her and her melodies seemed to keep the darkness at bay as they walked.
They reached the fence marking the end of the Apple property and turned left towards town, when Sweetie Belle abruptly stopped humming and asked “So what was the matter with you on the hill?” Scootaloos hope that she hadn’t remembered had been dashed and she was so taken aback by the suddenness of the question, she couldn’t even come up with a good lie. “What are you talking about?” she asked trying to sound nonchalant, but not looking up. “You’re such a terrible liar,” Sweetie laughed which hurt Scootaloo a little. “You were crying up there on the hill, tough filly.” She said nudging her with her foreleg. Scootaloo knew she wasn’t trying to be mean, just trying to lighten up the mood, but it hurt her pride a little anyway. “I told you there was something in my eye.” She said quietly, still not looking up. Sweetie quit giggling and stopped walking for a moment. The little Pegasus trotted on. She heard Sweetie Belle run to catch up and felt her put her foreleg on her back. Scootaloo looked up and saw genuine concern in her friends face. Her green eyes stared through her. “I’m sorry,” she said “I didn’t mean-”
“No it’s fine. I’m fine.” she said, no longer angry but eager to drop the subject. Sweetie Belle was not. “Hey its ok you can tell me,” she said, all hint of joviality gone from her voice. “Are you okay? Are you in trouble?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“So there is something wrong!”
“Yes.” She said beginning to become frustrated
“Then tell me,” Sweetie Belle pleaded.
“I don’t want to.” She repeated
“Why?”
Scootaloo stopped. Why? Why couldn’t she tell her? Why did she keep it locked away inside her? For some reason thoughts of her past made her feel shameful. What she had to be ashamed of, she couldn’t figure out, but that’s what it felt like. Was she going to hold on to this forever? If she couldn’t tell Sweetie Belle, she couldn’t tell anypony. She was the first pony she ever called friend. Sweetie stared at her with piercing green eyes that seemed to reflect her own sorrow. She wanted to know. She wanted to help. Scootaloo remembered the day she first met her unicorn friend.
The weather in Cloudsdale had completely turned around. The stinging, painful wind from the night had been replaced with still but smoldering air. The city came to life before her eyes. She had left the emptiness of the old district, a place stuck in time, to busy city streets. Ponies literally flew about the city on their daily errands or of on their way to work. Some took to walking in order to avoid the heavy air traffic and created quite a nuisance to Scootaloo who had no choice but keep her hooves on the cloud.
All the grown mares and stallions pushed her from every angle, paying her no mind except some times to become angry and yell at her. The little filly had rarely ever seen the streets so busy and pretty soon the problematic traffic became unbearable. She thought taking the Business district, which was the most direct route would get her to the carriage depot the fastest but with so many ponies bustling about, it wasn’t only slow but near impossible to make it more than a couple of feet every minute.
Of course if she could fly all these problems could have been avoided. Her wings unfurled and folded again, like they always did when she thought about being held at gravity’s mercy. A very well dressed stallion collided with her head-on and she fell to the ground tripping many pedestrians in the process. In the commotion many curses and violent promises were made and Scootaloo fled with open wings through an alley to the less populated parts of the city.
When she came out the other end there was such a release from her former claustrophobia, that she almost felt happy. But with a glance at a street sign, she found there was no way to the depot from here. She noticed her wings were still extended and closed them with a blush. With hoof traffic lessened, she easily made her way to another alleyway. She knew the layouts of most of the alleys pretty well from all her late night escapes. And aside from the main streets, shortcuts like these were the only fast way to the depot without completely circling the city. And she wasn’t very trusting of the outer edges of the city anymore, for personal reasons. Worse still, taking that route would involve walking past her old house. Scootaloo had already made a silent promise never to return to that place again. Plus it was entirely possible her father now sober realized he’d kicked his ten year old daughter out and social services could be pulling up to fine him. Which as humorous as it would be to see him struggle to pay the fine, he would more than likely hit her. Hard.
So she continued down the alley ways and neglected regions of the city. As she did so it struck her how alone she really was. The old mares blanket like wing had provided her with comfort in the moment, but it was lost now and right back where she started, scurrying around the city to avoid her father. She was alone again. Then suddenly she wasn’t. In her thoughts she hadn’t realised she’d been picking up speed, to the point where she was almost sprinting. And as she subliminally sprinted through the alleys she crashed into a colt. The collision had knocked them both to the ground, and left Scootaloo with swimming vision for a couple seconds. Both ponies stood and stared for a moment. He was almost a stallion, maybe sixteen years old. His coat was green, as was his mane was though it was darker. His look absolutely screamed “street dweller” and she instantly became wary. He was covering the path that Scootaloo needed to go.
“I’m sorry,” she stammered “I-I wasn’t looking a-and-” she stopped as she realised the colt wasn’t looking at her; he was eyeing her saddle bag. She knew the streets and she knew what was happening. She extended her wings to cover her saddle bag. “So,” she said with a low voice “If you could just move over I’ll be on my way.” The little filly could tell by his face he wasn’t listening at all. “What’s in the saddle bag filly?” he asked. His voice had the rasp of a smoker. “Nothing for you.” She said adding a bit of a bite to her words.
It was like a game. She’d had to do this once before with another mugger, but it was a filly, a lot closer to her age. She knew this had to be done a certain way. She had to show that nopony should mess with her, but she couldn’t become hostile or insult them or else she’d risk angering them. Mugger’s etiquette. “Oh I’m sure I could find use for something in there.” He said licking his lips grossly. Ok his thoughts were on the saddle bag not on her which was good news, in case things went south. “I’m just delivering mail.” She said. It was a solid excuse. She wasn’t wearing any uniform but post companies would often let young ponies carry mail in exchange for meager amounts of money, no questions asked. It was a way for ponies like her to make money, and she’d done it before but she rarely ever needed money.
The green colt clearly didn’t believe her, she could tell by his tone. “Well than just give me the address and I can carry it the rest of the way.”
“Look mister-”
“No you look filly,” he said, his tone turned dark. “I’m tired of these games. I could hear bits clinking in your saddle bag when you ran. So how ‘bout you just give me those bits and you can even keep the bag. One time offer.” He put on his winning smile of slightly crooked and very yellow teeth. She knew this was the best offer she was likely to get and she even considered it. She would be able to keep the picture, and her saddle bag was essential. But she knew she couldn’t give up those bits. She spent years collecting them wherever she could and even if she delivered letters for the next year, she wouldn’t be able to make them all back. And carriage rides weren’t free.
She bent forward and extended her wings. “No deal.” His smile faded. “Alright then,” he growled imitating her stance. He figured she would take off. “Just remember, you brought this on yourself.” She extended her forelegs and jumped with a flourish of her wings. The colt took off expecting to intercept her midflight, leaving the alleyway open. She was running before she landed.
She knew her ploy wasn’t going to last long and sure enough after a short head start, a shadow loomed over her. He wasn’t landing. Consciously sprinting through the maze of backstreets was as confusing as it was difficult. White cloud roads surrounded by white cloud buildings that blurred as she ran. Sometimes she ran straight into the walls but she recovered fast. She’d gotten stuck in a system of back roads with many exits but also many ways for her to turn back on herself. All the while her pursuers shadow stayed over her. Occasionally he would dip down to try and catch her but she was too fast, and he would slam into the cloud with a grunt. She ran faster than she thought she could but after a minute and no signs of an exit her sides felt like they were going to explode, and the heavy saddle bag slamming against her with each step didn’t help either.
She turned a sharp left and hit the wall, knocking the breath from her, and the green colt dived again. She jumped out of the way with not an inch to spare and he flew straight through the cloud wall, much to the alarm of the patrons inside. On she ran and after a couple more turns she saw a busy street and knew she was home free. Then he shot though another wall and tackled her. She tried to stand up and was pulled back. She had to fight for literally for every step, kicking and screaming and cursing as he grappled with her and tried to pull of her saddle bag. He got a solid bite on the straps and tried to pull but she held it in place with her wings. She swung around and smashed him on the nose with her foreleg and he rolled off. She bolted onto the busy street. There hadn’t ever been a time when she was happier around the busy pegasi of Cloudsdale.
She looked back at the alley and saw him standing there covering his bleeding nose and she felt satisfied. There was such a dark look in his eyes it chilled her but she knew he wouldn’t dare try that again around all these ponies. Scootaloos breath came in great heaves and her entire midsection hurt. But pain was something she was used to and she had such an adrenaline rush it was easy to ignore it. For a little while.
She would definitely not chance the backstreets anymore but it didn’t matter much because the street she ended up on could take her right to her destination. It still took while to get there because of all the hoof traffic but she was thankful for all the eyes around her. Still though she made quite a racket in that alley but nopony even glanced her way. But that didn’t matter either way because in a few minutes she would be gone.
The carriage depot was a very run down establishment and it showed its age. Scootaloo could tell that business was slow, and that wasn’t very surprising because out of all the ponies, pegasi had the easiest time getting around, so the only ones who needed carriages were the rich and lazy who refused to do anything for themselves, or special cases like her. There were three carriages parked in of the depot each for a different type of customer. The most expensive one was made partly of gold, intricately designed and had a closed roof. The lowest end carriage was basically a large wagon made of half rotten wood. The driver of that cart was a scruffy looking stallion with a wild mane, stubble growing under his muzzle and a bored look in his eyes. Scootaloo shuffled slowly towards his vehicle slowly looking down. She hated talking to strangers. “Lookin’ for a ride kid?” he asked with a gruff voice. She gave a little nod. “You got money to pay for it?” She nodded again. “Well hop in then. I should warn you though; this old beast can only make it so far, so you can either go to Manehatten or Ponyville. You okay with that?
She found a voice “How much?”
“Twenty-five bits, for either of them.” He answered. Ouch, she thought. “Which one would you suggest? Which city i mean.” I dunno,” he said with an annoyed sigh “Manehatten ain’t so different from here ‘cept it’s on the ground o’course. Ponyvilles some back water town out in the middle of nowhere, but folk there are friendly, and they have plenty of colourful characters.” She’d already made up her mind when he said Manehatten was like Cloudsdale. She wanted to get as far away from this place as possible, and if Ponyville was as remote as he said, maybe her dad wouldn’t find her. “I guess I’ll go to Ponyville.” she answered
“Alright then hop in.” He said again. The cart was obviously made for somepony to fly into it as it was quite difficult to climb in and had no door to open. She used the spokes on the wheel to toss herself in and got settled onto a seat. It was small and uncomfortable, and probably only able to hold one grown pony, but it fit her fine. The driver raised an eyebrow, after watching her struggle into the cart. “What’s the matter kid? Can’t a filly your age fly?” he asked with a smirk. “No.” She said simply. She expected more questions but instead he instantly dropped his smirk and just said “oh. Well just give me the word and I’ll take off.”
It was right then the reality of the situation hit her. She was going to be flying. Not with her own wings but she was going to leave the Cloud and defy gravity. The idea made her queasy. “I’m ready.” The stallion reared and began at a slow trot but quickly built up speed to a full on sprint, at full speed with wings spread. They were headed right for the edge of the cloud layer. She tensed and instinctively spread her own wings even though it was a fruitless gesture. The edge was approaching fast. Twenty feet. Did I make a mistake? Ten feet. I made a mistake. Five feet. She closed her eyes expecting to feel herself being pulled towards the ground again, like earlier that morning. But when she felt nothing she opened her eyes and to her panic and wonder the air around her was completely open. She was flying.
The thought made her want to retch. The wind tore at her mane and she knew that below the inch thick boards beneath her was nothing but the ground, so far away. She wondered in that moment why she’d always wanted to fly so badly. It was a very uncomfortable experience. The driver looked back and must have seen her discomfort. “You okay kid?” She couldn’t even nod. “So why’s a young filly like you trying to leave the big city all alone anyway?” he asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” She said flatly.
“Oh so it’s parents trouble then.” He said looking forwards again.
“How did you know?” she said trying to keep herself together.
“’Cause I did the same thing when I was a colt. My dad was a very violent stallion and when he even bothered to come home, he hit me and my mom with a hard hoof or whatever was layin’ around. Mom was too drunk to defend herself, let alone me, so I always made him mad so I’d get the worst of it. Eventually I had enough so I hit him back and left. What’s your story?”
Scootaloo was horrified by the stallion’s story, despite its similarity to her own situation. She wondered if dad had ever hit her mother. The though infuriated her. She didn’t remember her mother very well, not even what her voice was like, but some of her earliest memories were of lying down on a cloud with her mother stroking her mane. If she closed her eyes and thought hard she could almost remember her warmth against her body. She missed her.
The driver seemed to have decent intentions though and he told his story so she might as well tell hers. She gave him the short version. “I would come home from a day of bullying and foals laughing at me, to a father too drunk to stand, and if he was even awake he would yell at me and make fun of me and...hit me” she looked away.
“Wow. I didn’t think anypony was enough of a coward to hit a little filly.” He said “You know if you want I could gather up a few friends and show up at his place to teach him a lesson.” Scootaloo giggled, but when she looked up the stallion was wearing a serious expression. “No,” she said quickly “I’ve had enough violence. I just want to get as far from here as possible.”
“I know that feelin’.” He said and he was quiet for a bit. Scootaloo got the nerve to look over the edge. The ground passed slowly beneath the cart and she could see rolling fields and rivers.
“You know, my brother was like you. One of them pegasi that can’t fly.”
“How did you know I can’t fly?” she asked, surprised.
“You can tell a lot about ponies if you pay attention. It doesn’t work all the time, but most times. Sorry did I offend ya?”
“No it’s okay. I was just born this way. Doctors said I might be able to get a few feet of air when I’m older but it’s unlikely. I didn’t know there was anypony else who couldn’t fly.”
“Oh it’s more common than most folks think. My parents hated the kid. They never paid him any attention and never told our neighbours about him. I was all he had. I loved him though. He was a great artist, loved to paint anything he could get is hooves on. Paper, the walls, the clouds in the yard.” He chuckled. “He turned our backyard into a canvass. He liked to draw mom and dad. They were always smiling in the pictures.”
“Where is he now?” she asked. “Did he become an artist?” She liked to hear about other ponies finding their talents, since she was still a blank flank.
“Um no,” he said smile fading. “He umm... died when he was eight.”
“Oh.” Scootaloo mumbled. She definitely didn’t expect that “I’m sorry.”
“Why it wasn’t your fault? He fell off the edge trying to catch a painting that blew away.” His voice became choked. Scootaloo had never seen a grown up cry before.
“I was the only one that cried at his funeral, and when we got back they erased all his paint from the backyard and threw out his paper paintings. They forgot about the one that blew away though, and I found it. I always keep it with me for good luck.” There was a single tear running down his face. Scootaloo felt about ready to cry herself.
“I think it’s a good idea you’re leaving the city kid. It’s a dangerous place, and not because of the height.” Scootaloo found herself hanging on the front of the cart so she could sit next to the driver. When his story was done she just sat down. “It’ll be another twenty minutes before we touch down.” He said, emotion gone from his voice. As she waited it dawned on Scootaloo how terrible things were for some ponies. She was a Pegasus who couldn’t fly, but even she was better off than some ponies. She wondered about what the driver had said. The city’s a dangerous place and not because of the height. She thought about asking him but she had a feeling he wouldn’t explain it.
After some time an unfamiliar sensation made the filly jump. The carriage rocked and shuddered as it hit something solid. She looked over the edge and saw ground. No longer miles below but within reach of her hoof. They were gliding along a trail of stones. She walked to the front and looked out to see a town. Colourful buildings were scattered about and made of solid wood and stone. The distant shapes of ponies of many colours and races walked about. There were unicorns and earth ponies there. She’d never seen other kinds of ponies before.
The driver’s hooves could be heard as he galloped on the stones and with each step they slowed a little. Eventually they came to a stop just in front of a sign made of wood that simply read ‘Ponyville’. She got out of the cart and was shocked to feel solid earth beneath her hooves. So this is what ground feels like. It was odd. You didn’t sink into it like clouds, and her steps were as wobbly as a newborn’s.
The driver was breathing heavily and she could imagine why. It must be difficult to pull something so heavy while flying. And after hearing the stallion’s story she didn’t feel so upset about the fee. She swung her saddle bag off to get the bits when the driver said “No keep your bits.” She looked up to him and his eyes seemed not quite as... bored. He was even smiling.
“I have more than enough to pay you, it’s really no trouble.”
“You know,” he said “I’ve been pulling that cart for almost fifteen years now and not once has anypony acknowledged I was there, let alone trade stories with an old pony like me. I think talking with you was payment enough.”
Scootaloo was speechless. This was the kindest thing anypony had ever done for her (short of saving her life).
“Thank you very much-” she realized she didn’t know his name.
“Storm Chaser.” He finished for her. And the pleasure was mine miss,” he waited for her name. “Scootaloo.”
“That’s a lovely name kid.” He said.
Storm Chaser brought his cart around to take off but before he did he said “I know what I told you, about the city being dangerous and such, but if you ever come back I’d appreciate seeing you again.” He coughed, knowing his proposition sounded a bit creepy. Every filly in school knew not to except favours from strange stallions but she could tell that Storm Chaser had nothing but the best intentions.
“I’d love too.”
“Well then, I hope you find what you’re looking for Miss Scootaloo.”
“You too.” she said smiling with happiness for the first time in a while. The old stallion returned the smile and took off.
Scootaloo watched him for a while until he disappeared from sight. She spun around to face the town of Ponyville. She was about to enter the town when she heard a noise from the trees to her left. Some pony was grunting. She was confused at first. Was this normal on the ground? Everything down here was so different and solid that she felt just overwhelmed. Curiosity got the better of her as she peeked through the trees to find to source of the noise. It wasn’t difficult. Only a couple of feet in a white filly was struggling to push very sizable boulder onto the main road. Scootaloo walked a little closer and was pleasantly suprised to find she was a unicorn. She’d never seen one up close before. She was very pretty; her mane had two shades in it, one pink one purple. It took the unicorn a moment to notice her and when she did, she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Ah!” she squealed, voice squeaking. “You scared me!”
“Oh umm sorry.” said Scootaloo meekly. The unicorn didn’t seem all that upset. In fact she seemed glad she was there. “It’s okay just... hey umm would you mind helping me with this rock? I need to get it to my sister but its pretty heavy.” The unicorn looked at her with bright green eyes, shaded beautifully in the sunlight.
“Umm sure.” She said not sure what else to do. Why did the filly want to give her sister a rock? She walked around to the other side without voicing her question, and began to push with her. The rock was about the size of the two fillies and as heavy as it look. “Oh I’m Sweetie Belle, by the way.” The filly said, between grunts. “I’m new here.”
“I’m Scootaloo,” she said, pushing against the rock with her soon to be friend. “I’m new too.”
Scootaloo told her everything. Under the light of the moon and the stars, on the thin lonely trail, she poured out her story. All the times she’d been laughed at, the times her class mates made fun of her and bullied her. All the times her father struck her. Every memory and every detail came pouring out and she couldn’t stop if she wanted to. It wasn’t long before she was crying. At first, Sweetie Belle just stood with her, disbelief visible on her face. As her tale continued Sweetie’s eyes began to look watery and soon she was crying almost as much as Scootaloo.
She told her about the events the day before they met, and about the kindly carriage driver, Storm Chaser. “And after that I found you, pushing that rock.” She finished. Sweetie Belle threw her forelegs around her friend’s neck and held her in a tight embrace which Scootaloo immediately returned, and the two friends sat there, faces soaked with tears, holding each other. Neither of them could measure the time it took, but eventually their sobs became less intense and Sweetie Belle let her go so she could look at her eyes. “Am I really the first pony you’ve told all this?” she asked. The little Pegasus sniffled and nodded her head. The unicorn hugged her friend, with less intensity this time and whispered “Thank you.” before pulling away again. “For what?” the other asked, confused. “For telling me,” she said. “For trusting me.” Scootaloo stood there and stared into her friends green eyes, now rimmed with red. It felt good to tell her, better than crying. She was glad it was her too. She loved Apple Bloom and planned on telling her soon as well, but Sweetie Belle was the first filly she ever met that had no problem hanging out with her. Heck she enjoyed hanging out with her. She was her first friend.
“Scootaloo, will you be okay? I know it must have been hard to tell somepony that. Do you want to sleep over at my house tonight? My parents won’t mind.” Scootaloo would have loved to go but there was something else she had to do. She told her friend such and Sweetie Belle simply nodded. The two friends continued their walk and Sweetie Belle looked over at Scootaloo. Despite the relief of telling Sweetie, thinking of her father still held a particular sting. So Sweetie did the only natural thing. She sang. The song had no words just notes slowly flowing and creating a happy tune. As her song progressed, a soft wind rustled the leaves in the trees and whistled through the reeds of the creek. Crickets and other nightly insects joined their calls to the chorus. The lonely trail was suddenly alive with music. The pegasus was dumbfounded. She’d never heard anything more beautiful. Although Scootaloo didn’t have much musical talent to speak of, she could definitely appreciate it. So, on they walked and Scootaloo knew even if the moon and stars went out and the world was covered in black, she had nothing to fear as long as Sweetie Belle was with her.
Why did I agree to this? Scootaloo thought as she pushed the rock with the white filly. She wasn’t really mad though. She had finally made it off of the clouds. She was on the ground, and her father was far away. Not to mention she still had a jar full of bits. Why should she be mad? There was a rather steep and grassy incline at the top of which was the trail. If they could get the rock up onto the streets, it would go a lot easier. She still had no idea why Sweetie Belle wanted to give this rock to her sister. In fact the entire time they pushed she hadn’t said a word. They continued to labour in silence, aside from the huffs of their heavy breathing. Eventually they got the rock onto the trail. They took a moment to rest their hooves. The strange white filly looked to her and muttered “Thanks.” “No problem.” Scootaloo said between breaths. The break from work had left them in a very long and awkward silence and she couldn’t take it much more. “So why does your sister want a rock?” “Oh,” Sweetie Belle blushed “well it’s not actually FOR my sister I just need to give it to her.” The unicorn quieted down clearly believing this needed no explanation. “But why?” she asked again “Oh, well, my sister’s a unicorn too,” she pointed to her horn “and she knows this spell that lets her see gemstones in the ground or in rocks and stuff.” She put on a large smile. Scootaloo felt about ready to yell. “So we’ve been pushing this rock for the past ten minutes, so we can bring it to your sister, on the off chance there might be diamonds inside?”
“Yep!” the white filly beamed.
Scootaloo groaned with frustration. What a waste of time. She could have been looking for an inn or some food but instead she decided to help some senile unicorn push a boulder! “Okay well you seem like you can take it from here.” The pegasus said walking away. Sweetie Belle’s smile disappeared. “No I don’t got it from here! I need your help Scootaloo!” The unicorn ran up to her and stepped in front of her, not aggressively but pleadingly. “It’ll be easier now that we’re off the grass I promise. Please don’t leave Scootaloo.” She said, looking at Scootaloo with her big green eyes. There was such desperation behind them that Scootaloo simply heard herself say “Fine.” She was shocked the filly had remembered her name. “Yay! Thank you so much!” she squealed wrapping her in a hug so fast the orange filly didn’t have a chance to refuse it. Just as quick as it was given the hug was over and for a confusing moment she wished it wasn’t. But she didn’t dwell on it and resumed working with the strange little pony, to get a huge rock to her sister’s house. But she was right; the job was much easier on the road than in the grass
As they entered the town, Scootaloo noticed they were attracting a lot of attention and she felt her face redden. Most folk just passed them by, thank Celestia but a few tossed them some quizzical looks and some even sniggered. The orange filly glanced towards her new found companion to see if she felt the same discomfort at all the attention, but if she did, then she definitely didn’t show it. On the contrary she was smiling looking quite oblivious to the world around her, and the pegasus found herself wondering what she was thinking. She probably didn’t want to know. The town was a lot from smaller than Cloudsdale, but everything was so strange. Ponies moved slowly and chatted in the streets and many said hello as they passed. Stuff like that was rare where she came from. “Hey,” Sweetie Belle said suddenly pulling her from her thoughts. “When you were walking away I noticed that you were a blank flank too.” “A what?” she asked arching an eyebrow.
“A blank flank. You know, you don’t have a cutie mark yet, like me.” Scootaloo didn’t quite know how to feel about somepony looking at her flank and commenting on it. “Yeah so?”
“Haven’t you been made fun of for it?”
“No.” She said confused.
“Really? Oh right you said you were new. Well around here, school fillies make fun of ponies without cutie marks constantly. I’ve only been here for a couple of weeks but my parents still haven’t registered me for school. I’m not exited for it” She looked back at the rock. So things on the ground weren’t always peachy. “What about you where are you from?” “Cloudsdale.” She replied simply.
“Wow really?” Sweetie said in awe “That’s so cool! What’s it like living on a cloud?” Scootaloo felt the urge to give a mean retort, as she had nothing good to say about it, but this filly seemed nice, and it was kind of nice to have somepony her age to talk to. “Umm... it’s cool I guess.” It was the kindest thing she could think of to say. “Oh right you’re probably used to being up in the clouds, being a pegasus pony and all.” Scootaloo remained silent. Luckily she didn’t need to say anything because soon enough they arrived. “Here we are!” Sweetie Belle called her voice squeaking.
Scootaloo peered around the rock and was astonished. “You’re sister lives here?” The building was made of stone and wood and beautifully carved. The first word that came to her mind was ‘Palace’. Bright gold and purple hues attacked her eyes. The shape was round and though there were only two stories the place rose quite high. “Yep, it’s also her store! She makes dresses and stuff. She doesn’t live with my parents anymore she’s too old, but she used to. I was actually born here but then we moved to Trottingham for a while and when Rarity made enough money she moved back here, and now mom and dad live here too so they can be close to her again. Oh Rarity is my sister’s name by the way.” Her words flew out, a mile a minute.
Wow this filly liked to talk. She always talked with such enthusiasm. Scootaloo hadn’t met anyone so happy before. “Hmm,” Sweetie Belle mumbled looking at the door “I don’t think Rarity will want us to bring this into her Boutique. Come on, we’ll go get her.” The white filly trotted happily towards the door and Scootaloo cautiously followed. She didn’t figure this Rarity character would appreciate a stranger in her house. Then again, it was a shop too so she probably gets ponies in there all the time.
So she trailed the strange filly into the Boutique. She had never been in a solid building before, and felt a pang of excitement as the door was pushed open and a bell sounded. She wasn’t disappointed. She was practically assaulted with colour upon entering the store. Dresses, articles of assorted clothing, and simple raw fabric, created a rainbow solid as everything else on the ground. Racks and mannequins contained enough dresses to last a life time. Some were plain and simple, solid colours, maybe a bit of lining on the hem. But many were designed with such an obvious passion and style; even the tomboyish filly couldn’t help admiring them. “Did your sister make ALL of these?” “Yep, Rarity makes all the clothes she sells.” The pride for her sister took the form of a smile. “She must not get out much huh?” Scootaloo mumbled, but Sweetie Belle wasn’t listening. “Rarity! Hey Rarity, I’m back!”
“Sweetie Belle,” a voice whined from the top of the stairs. “You’re breaking my concentration!”
“Oops sorry sis, could you come down please?”
“Sweetie Belle I-”
“Pleeeeeaaaase!” she whined and gave a wink to Scootaloo. It didn’t take her long to realise she’d use the same tactic on her. And apparently it was effective. “Fine!” Scootaloo heard Rarity approaching and again she saw beauty that was a wonder to behold. From the bottom of the stairs the most beautiful mare she’d ever seen came towards them. She shared the same white coat as Sweetie Belle but her mane was a solid purple that came down in an elegant wave. Her long eyelashes accented the deep blue of her eyes, which carried a very frustrated look. The look quickly turned to shock however, as she noticed Scootaloo. “Oh hello,” she said with a slight accent the likes of which she’d never heard. “Who’s this Sweetie?”
“Oh this is my friend Scooter Blue!”
“Scootaloo.” She whispered, quickly noting the use of the word friend.
“Yeah Scootaloo, that’s what I said, she helped me push a rock here, thats why I wanted you.” Rarity was staring at Scootaloo with a deep concentration. Only now did the little filly realise she hadn’t had a bath in three days and she felt a heat creep into her cheeks. Rarity’s eyes widened as she noticed what her sister said “A rock?”
“Yep you said you knew a gem spell so I wanted to see if there were any gems in it.”
“Uh-huh,” she said with uncertainty
“Very well let me see this rock.” The trio walked out from the store and it was obvious that Rarity wasn’t quite expecting the size of the boulder. She let out a small screech of shock. “Sweetie Belle, what did you do? Why would you leave a rock bigger than you right outside my Boutique. Goodness this is practical customer repellent.” Suddenly her horn shimmered with a blue aura, which Scootaloo watched with awe. Rarity Stared deeply at the rock, almost as if she was looking through it. “Oh there aren’t even any gems in it.”
“Aww.” Sweetie Belle groaned
“Now I need to get this away from my shop.” She shouted franticaly The aura shimmered around her horn and the rock alike as it began to levitate. Scootaloo’s jaw dropped. She’d been on the ground for less than an hour and it was already almost too much to handle. Rarity walked away with the stone in tow. “I’ll be back soon Sweetie Belle. Don’t go in my inspiration room.” She stopped suddenly “Oh and Scootaloo.” She closed her jaw again. “Feel free to take a shower; you look a bit... messy.” And with that she left. Sweetie Belle still looked quite disheartened. “Well thanks for the help anyway, sorry it was for nothing. Ooh maybe we can try again tomorrow!”
Scootaloo tore her eyes away from the levitating rock “Tomorrow?” “Well yeah you know,” the filly’s gaze shifted to the ground “It’s just that you’re my first friend here in Ponyville so I just figured we could hang out some more. If you’re too busy that’s totally cool.” Sweetie Belle tossed her a hopeful look. There was that word again. Friend. She’d known this filly for less than a day and already she was calling her a friend. Scootaloo didn’t know what to think. She’d always assumed friendships took weeks of work to attain, and that being a friend required certain qualities. But there was this Sweetie Belle already calling her a friend, just because she helped her. Despite the ponies odd nature, she felt an unrecognised warmth in her. She’d made a friend. “Um yeah sure I’d... really like to hang out some more.” She said with a slight voice quiver. Sweetie Belle gave her another big smile. “Great! We can figure out the details later, come on I’ll show you where the shower is.”
. . .
Oh Celestia, what is this? Scootaloo thought to herself as she stared at the complex machine in front of her. The showers on the ground were a lot different than in Cloudsdale. In fact in Cloudsdale bathing simply involve jumping into a cloud that was kept very warm and washing up. Showers on the ground had pipes and levers and a weird bowl at the bottom.
She called Sweetie Belle back to the bathroom to ask her how it worked. Scootaloo thought it was a perfectly fine question to be asking but her new friend was laughing so hard she was tearing up, and once again Scootaloo’s face felt warm. Once her new friend was able to breathe she simply pulled out the weird lever and twisted it to the left. Steaming water shot from the nozzle at the top and the little Pegasus jumped back in fright, prompting more laughter from Sweetie Belle. “You just twist it to the left to make it hot or the right to make it cold. Don’t twist it too far though the temperature changes really fast.” She said all this between fits of giggles. After that the unicorn left, and Scootaloo dropped her saddle bag in the corner and got into the weird bowl that seemed to collect the falling water.
Terror ran through her as the hot water ran over her coat and matted her mane. She’d never gotten wet before. It never rained in Cloudsdale and the most the clouds could do was make your hooves damp and that took a long time of walking. The feeling of condensed, hot water on her back was very foreign and her first instinct was to jump out. But the warmth of the water seeped through her coat and made her relax a bit. And relaxation was something she definitely needed. She’d gone from being mugged in the sky, to being bugged by a crazy friend on the ground. But despite her strangeness, Scootaloo liked that little pony.
The water stopped feeling warm so she gently twisted the odd lever to the left and felt a fresh wave of warmth cover her. She spread out her wings and watched large droplets fall from her feathers. These ground ponies sure knew how to live. She looked up and saw the billowing steam race from out of the shower and turn into water on the mirror in the corner. Weird. Every time she got used to the temperature of the water she turned it up a bit until the lever stopped moving, and Scootaloo thought she might be sweating. She thought she’d only been in for a few minutes but the muffled voice of Sweetie Belles sister called from behind the door. “Darling have you been in their since I left?” Rarity called.
“Umm no.” The filly lied and pushed the lever down, cutting off the water. As soon as she did, the heat seemed to get leeched out of her body, and she began to shiver. She pulled her wings back to her sides. Her wet mane covered her eyes and, as childish as it was, she began to giggle. “Oh good, can I come in?” “Sure.” Scootaloo said stepping out of the shower. Rarity opened the door and then screeched and slammed it shut again. “I thought you said I could come in!” she shouted “You can.” Scootaloo said confused “But you’re... not decent.”
“Huh?” Scootaloo was a bit offended by the remark. She heard the unicorn groan. “It is not ladylike to remain uncovered after bathing.” The door opened slightly and a neatly rolled white towel floated in. “Here dry off before you come out. Then meet me in my inspiration room, the closest door to your left.” Scootaloo pushed her wet mane out or her eyes and grabbed the towel. Wow what a prissy pony. Why was Rarity being so weird? Maybe it’s rude to let somepony see you when you’re wet? Why did it matter? Whatever, she was in her house so she would play by the rules.
“Oh and try not to make a puddle on the floor.” She called again sounding further away. The filly stared sheepishly down at the large pool of water that had collected under her. After drying herself, and the floor off, the filly left the bathroom and found the inspiration room with little difficulty. It wasn’t all that inspiring to be honest. Rolls and cut sheets of fabric cluttered the floor and desk alike. There was a very luxurious looking bed on one side of the room, but it was covered with scissors and pin cushions. There was a circular area on the floor that remained clean. At the far side of the room Rarity stood, holding different shades of green fabric up to the sunlight, and muttering softly to herself. “Ah perfect!” she exclaimed turning “Oh hello um-” “Scootaloo.” “Yes Scootaloo. Thank you for coming, Sweetie Belle brought you at the perfect time. Would you mind coming in and helping me?”
Scootaloos wings unfurled slowly “I’m uh not sure how much help I’d be, I’ve never sown anything before.” “Oh that’s quite alright, I just need you to stand there and hold still.” She pointed a hoof at the clearing on the floor. “Okay.” She said, glad Rarity wasn’t angry about the bathroom incident. In fact the pony seemed to have completely forgot about it. Rarity began to shuffle through the various drawers on her work bench. Scootaloo carefully stepped around the fabric on the floor. After she made it through the minefield, Rarity trotted over to her gracefully holding a roll of light green fabric, some thread and a needle. Rarity magically unwound the fabric and covered Scootaloo’s midsection with it. The Pegasus looked at the needle with uncertainty.
“Oh don’t look so frightened,” she laughed. “I promise not to prick you, I am quite practiced at this.” She threaded the needle and began pulling it through the two sheets of fabric held to the filly. “Sweetie Belles birthday is coming up soon so it thought I’d make her a fabulous gown for the occasion, it’s a surprise so don’t tell her. But sadly I’ve never been commissioned for a foal sized outfit and my shipment for foal sized mannequins is late. You are just about the same size as her though, so you’re going to be my model, okay?” Scootaloo nodded, and the mare pulled the needle and thread through again. “Don’t worry I just need the basic shape, after that my workbench should suit my needs. Besides Sweetie Belles bound to return soon.”
“Why where did she go?” the filly asked.
“Oh I sent her to the store to pick up some fabrics for me, so I can begin decorating town hall for the Summer Sun Celebration tomorrow.” Wow, the celebration was being hosted here? She worked in silence for a little bit and Scootaloo was just beginning to get used to it when, Rarity piped up again “I’m so glad to see Sweetie Belle finally making some friends around here. She’s seemed a bit... distant since the move. How did you meet my sister?” “”I bumped into her near the entrance to town and she asked me to help her with that rock. Sorry about that by the way.” “Oh it’s quite alright,” Rarity said dismissively. “The town entrance you say? So you’re new here too then? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around town before.”
“Yeah I’m from Cloudsdale.” She didn’t see any harm in telling Rarity about where she was from, but she didn’t want to get much more specific than that. “Oh, how interesting, what’s it like to walk on clouds?” “Um... soft.” She wasn’t quite sure how to answer, but her remark earned a chuckle from Rarity. “Yes I would imagine. I’ve always wanted to visit Cloudsdale. Very few ponies who aren’t pegasi have even seen the place.” Scootaloo almost laughed. Rarity made it seem like such a strange and mystical place. “You’re doing quite well; I’ve never seen a filly sit so still. Oh this is fun, I don’t usually get to converse with my mannequins while I work.” Scootaloo blushed. She wasn’t used to such praise or attention, and she really liked this pony. She felt bad about thinking she was prissy and rude. “What sorts of things do you like to do dear?” Rarity asked
“Oh, uh...” she wasn’t really sure. Most of her days had involved a lot of walking and quiet thought and dreaming. She tried to think of the times she’d felt the happiest. “I like exploring I guess.” She answered thinking of all the times she’d wandered Cloudsdales forgotten places. “Oh an explorer eh? I wouldn’t have guessed, I would have thought you as a more athletic type, like that weather pony Rainbow Dash. Not really the flying type huh?” The remark was innocent enough, and Scootaloo knew the pony couldn’t have known just how deep that comment hit her. But that was a path of conversation she didn’t want to follow. Instead she changed the subject to Rarity. “What about you? What do you like to do?”
“Why isn’t it obvious?” she chuckled, waving a hoof around the cluttered room. “Clothes making has been my passion since a very young age. It is an art form few truly understand or appreciate. Where most see a simple article of clothing, I see art, plain and simple. With fabric as my canvass and stitches as my paint I create masterpieces.” Scootaloo had never seen such a passion about anything, let alone dress making. “Wow that’s... awesome.” She couldn’t think of a better word.
“How kind of you to say.” Rarity laughed “There! I think it’s coming along rather well don’t you?” she asked pointing at a mirror in the corner of the room. Even though this was just the bare bones of the outfit, it looked gorgeous. Although Scootaloo had to admit, green definitely wasn’t her colour. Rarity’s aura covered the dress and it slid smoothly off. She neatly folded it and placed it in a drawer. “Thank you very much for your help, Scootaloo.” She said “It was nothing really. Standing around isn’t exactly a tough job.” Scootaloo said modestly.
“Oh trust me, if I can even get anypony to model for me they usually can’t even follow simple instructions. Tell you what; I’ll even put your name on the gift.” The filly had to sit down. The amount of kindness she’d been shown this afternoon was unbelievable. How could such a nice place exist just under such a parasprite-hole of a city? Had she really been so close to a place where friends could be made in an afternoon, and compliments were handed out so freely? “I also have to say, your manners are very good for a pony from Cloudsdale, no offence. It is quite refreshing actually; so many foals are always running about shouting profanity and making a mess of the town. Would you like to stay for dinner Scootaloo? If your parents don’t mind of course.” The invitation was given with a smile, but Rarity’s face swiftly turned to one of confusion, after seeing the look on Scootaloo. Her mouth was agape and her eyes were wide.
“What have you never been invited to somepony’s house before?”
