You're almost doing it Scootaloo! Just a little more...
The orange pegasus filly puffed short, sharp breaths, gritting her teeth and curling her lip in annoyance as her tiny wings flapped back and forth so fast you could barely see them. She looked almost like a hummingbird. Most ponies would have made an amusing spectacle out of her struggle to lift off the ground. I have to admit, it did look kinda funny. Her huffing and puffing and straining every muscle as her feathers tried to grab the sky and repetatively failed. If you were watching, you may have laughed at her vain efforts.
But it was hard for me to laugh at this.
She was fired with so much determination, the thought of flight locked and sealed as if stamped in her brain. The way she kept at it... It was admireable. I continued to view her practice as she gritted her teeth so iron hard I swear you could hear it, and her wings (against all odds of the eye) began to flap faster. You would think they were about to fall off. She inhaled and exhaled with short breaths, her very being poised in the act of sucess.
And for a moment, she did it. Her feathered tickled the wind and her hooves began to loose weight, her violet hair blowing slightly in the sudden wind. Soon all mass was lost from the grond as she hovered in midair, eyes wide with self-accomplishment as if she was trying to catch the moment and never, ever let it escape her. But her almost trance-like state shattered as gravity regained control and she cascaded down, her face meeting the ground in a less then friendly welcome. I was tempted to call out to her, anything to reassure that she was OK. But it soon presented itself as she lifted her face out of the woodland clearing's dirt, coughing with an angry tone and spitting out some additional flecks of grass.
"Well that was a waste of time..." Scootaloo sighed mournfully over lost moments. She proceeded to lower her head in a depressed attitude and stomp away from the failed flight launch site. She just looked so... Lifeless. Almost like a doll.
I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I barely noticed her change in dirction. Her path had been altered from that leading to the schoolhouse to that deeper into the friendly back-forest. And that was exactly where I was hiding.
Her eyes widened so big that I thought they were going to pop right out of her head. An expression of anger- no... annoyance- no... confusion- no... It was embarrassment mixed in with absolutely livid fury.
"RUMBLE!? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!?" I shrunk back into the leaves instinctively, flattening my ears to the back of my head and letting a nervous laugh escape my muzzle. The fillies eyes burned into my soul, so to speak. But really, she was SCARY. "What," she repeated, "are you doing here?" I searched desperately for an excuse that wouldn't sound... creepy. Really creepy.
"Uh... I just... like watching you practice." I said slowly. That wasn't too bad. It didn't sound creepy... at least I didn't think so. Scootaloo, however, did not appear amused.
"RUMBLE! What I do here is my thing! And when I faceplant, its emarrassing WITHOUT some nosy colt watching!"
"I'm sorry, I just-" I paused, the roof of my mouth becoming dry while small beads of sweat accumulated and rolled down my face, sticking in my fur.
"You just what huh!?"
"I... wanna help you." Scootaloo immediately jerked her head back, eyes menacing.
"Why would I need any help?"
"No reason... I just thought I could give you a hoof with the flying thing." Scootaloo looked at me, the anger replaced with curiousity.
"Hmmph. I guess you could show me how other ponies do it. But, ya know, I could totally learn on my own." I relaxed a tad. She was actually going to let me help her. I soon tensed again as she lifted an orange hoof and pointed it at me. "But I still don't forgive you for the whole stalker thing." I smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry..."
"Whatever. Lets get to practice!"
