Scootaloo hated these moments. Whereas the filly would rather be spending her days with her friends, going on valiant adventures to earn the ever elusive cutie mark, learning in school, or riding around on her high-powered scooter, she was stuck in front of her parent’s house. The same run-down miniature house she had grown up in; the one she had both loved and loathed at the same time. Sure, she didn’t hate her parents for they gave her all the love she ever needed. It was more that they were... strange. Strange enough that she had passed herself off as an orphan for all of these years, willing to face the scorn that came with having no parents. But here she was. It was now or never for the little filly, just a quick visit in, talk about how their week was going, answer a few questions, and leave. Then repeat on the following week, and so on.
With a sigh, Scootaloo knocked on the door. Waiting was another thing she didn’t like doing. She was a filly of action; daring, head-strong, brazen. She enjoyed traveling at high-speeds, facing unknown dangers, saving the day! Yet she was stuck, waiting for her parents to open the door. Seconds dragged into hours inside the filly’s mind, as the monotonous task of waiting drilled into Scootaloo’s head. It was unnerving, like that time just a couple days ago when she was SURE she had earned her cutie mark in fencing. Of course, it had turned out to be a cut on her flank rather than a cutie mark that boasted her talents for being an astounding fencer.
After waiting for what seemed like hours, the door slowly crept open. Scootaloo, not wanting to wait outside for any longer, pushed the door open all the way. Peering inside the house, Scootaloo saw that the house was in the same chaotic mess as just about every other week. Hay had been cast haphazardly around the place, giving the place the appearance of a badly kept barn. Multiple beds in disarray lined the walls, as if spectral spectators were hiding under each one, watching her with malicious intent. The walls were chipped, creating small holes through which the wind from the fall afternoon rushed in. There was a slightly musty smell, as if somepony had hung up a pair of old socks inside the place, and the smell had slowly engulfed it. “Hello?” Scootaloo called out, taking a few cautious steps inside.
“Bawk,” came the ever-familiar sound of her father. “Bawk bawk, bawk bawk bawk!”
“Dad!” Scootaloo said, followed by a small squee. She rushed over to her father and pulled him into a tight hug. Her eyes scanned over her father, taking in every single detail. “You haven’t changed a bit since I last saw you!”
Her father was the alpha chicken of the coop; the strongest and bravest there had ever been. While most of the chickens inside Fluttershy’s chicken coop lived up to their species name, her dad had out-stared a cockatrice, beat up a dragon, and tamed a manticore.
“Bawk bawk bawk,” her father said, his clucking having a tinge of happiness. He wrapped his feathery appendages around his daughter. They were rough, yet Scootaloo felt safe in them as if they were an all encompassing shield that stopped everything bad from hurting her. It was a feeling she revelled in, knowing she had always been teased growing up in this coop - she was always different, but her parents insisted that being different meant she was unique and that she should be proud. Of course, she had lived her life in the coop as the only chicken-pony unable to lay an egg, so none of the other chickens invited her to chicken-prom, the chicken-games, or the chicken-carnival (somechicken had gotten her an elephant plushie though, so it was alright.)
“Yeah, I missed you as well,” Scootaloo replied, letting go of the embrace. Now was the awkward part - conversation. While her dad was the coolest chicken in all of Equestria, he didn’t see beady eye to beady eye in certain things with Scootaloo. Things like food, music, dating preferences, egg laying, the usual chicken/pony problems were all things they disagreed on.
Making her way over to the closest nest, Scootaloo sat down in it. It was unkempt, things were poking out from it and prodding her flank, not a feeling she particularly enjoyed, but it was probably... yeah, maybe it wasn’t the best nest in the coop.
Her father made his way over to an adjacent nest and sat in it. He watched Scootaloo with his loving chicken eyes. The silence was unnerving, though. Usually in times of silence her father would ask something really embarrassing or invasive. It was on-
“Bawk bawk, bawk?”
There it was. The embarrassing question. Scootaloo planted her front hoof against her forehead, creating a rather loud clop sound. Was it a father’s duty to ask such questions? Did they do it just for kicks? The filly couldn’t come up with any answers, it was impossible to understand. “No, dad! I haven’t met any good roosters to fertilize my eggs! You should know, I’m a pony. I don’t have a cloaca, so I can’t lay eggs!”
“Bawk bawk,” her father deadpanned. He shifted a little bit, allowing his rear to fit in perfectly with the hollowed out part of the nest.
“Yes, I’m sure I’m a pony. I have hooves, a mane, and a tail. And I’ll have a cutie mark one of these days!”
“Bawk.”
“No, my cutie mark will not be in egg-laying. Why do you always do this to me?!”
“Bawk bawk,” her father replied, his tone being tender. He got up from his nest and walked over to his daughter.
Scootaloo turned away from him and crossed her forelegs, blowing at a strand of purple mane that had snaked its way down in front of her face. “Yeah yeah, I know you love me...”
“Bawk.”
“Yeah, you are the best dad ever.”
“...Bawk bawk. Bawk bawk bawk.”
“Well, of course I love you. Why wouldn’t I? You’re like, the second coolest thing in the world!”
“Bawk?”
“Oh, umm...” Scootaloo stuttered. “Well, you see, I have this friend named Rainbow Dash, and she’s the coolest thing ever! She’s the fastest flier in all of Equestria, she has done a sonic rainboom, and she’s just awesome in general!”
If there was ever one thing Scootaloo would be certain of, it would be that Rainbow Dash was coolest more awesomest pony to ever be in Equestria or beyond. It wasn’t really a hidden fact that the filly looked up to Dash as a model; knowing how she was the fastest flier. Dash had been flying from a really young age, something Scootaloo had always been jealous of. One day she’d get lessons from the coolest mare herself, and she’d be able to fly higher than ever before all on her own. Until that day, though, the orange filly was grounded, enjoying life with her friends and going on adventures.
“So, why did you ask if I still loved you? I mean, sure, you may be crazier than a chicken with its head cut off - no offense of course - but you’re still my dad!”
Her father sighed, and covered his beak with his wing. Scootaloo knew this meant something big was going to happen. Not just big, whenever he did that, something huge was going to happen - something that could change her entire life. It had happened before when she was told she wasn’t a chicken; how awful that day was for the filly, the scorn she had received for being different had nearly doubled within five hours of her epiphany for her species.
“Bawk bawk,” her father called out, although his voice was slightly muffled by his feathery appendage.
“Bawk bawk!” came a familiar voice; one that Scootaloo had listened to for years. The one that helped soothe her to sleep after the mean chickens would get to her, the one that would re-assure her in times of doubt that she was special, the one that told her great things would happen in her life. The beautiful voice of her mother.
Scootaloo lit up at the sound of her mother’s voice. She was a beautiful white chicken... well, beautiful in terms of being a chicken. Her body was lean, yet she was strong. She had a heart of gold, and loved caring for other hen’s chicks; well, when Fluttershy wasn’t cuddling them all. Her red eyes glistened brightly on a sunny day, as if the sun itself wanted to showcase them.
Her mother walked into the coop, but it was quickly evident something was wrong. Her brow was furrowed, as if she was deep in thought. There were small wet blotches around her forehead, something Scootaloo assumed was sweat. She walked briskly over to her husband and pulled him aside. Scootaloo watched as the two chickens - her loving parents - talked in a hushed tone. Every now and then, one of them would shoot her a worried look.
Scootaloo couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. Sweat started to bead her forehead, every thread of thought in the fabric of her mind was a negative scenario she didn’t want to happen. Her parents loved her though, right? They both looked healthy... so it couldn’t be concerning them. Was it her? Did something happen to her that only her parents knew about? They wouldn’t keep a secret from their own daughter... right?
“Bawk... bawk bawk,” her mother said, her voice carrying a hint of sadness.
“Yes, I still love you... is something wrong?”
“Bawk bawk, bawk bawk bawk... bawk bawk bawk,” her mother said.
Scootaloo was confused. Why were her parents reassuring her? The filly knew her parents loved her... something was off and Scootaloo needed to know what was wrong. “Do you guys have something to tell me?”
“Bawk... bawk bawk,” her father said.
“Yes, you’ve said that you knew I was going to grow into a strong pony someday many times!”
“Bawk bawk... bawk bawk,” her mother said, her voice was weighed down by an anvil of depression.
Scootaloo couldn’t take this... the way her parents were avoiding telling the truth. “Can you guys... just say it already?”
A small tear escaped her father’s eye. “Bawk... bawk bawk bawk.”
“No...” Scootaloo whispered. She couldn’t believe this, there was no way that was possible! Ever since she was a filly, she remembered growing up with her parents. But... it would explain why she was a pony... her entire world collapsed around her, like a deck of cards in a strong wind. Everything she had been told in her life had been a lie. Her ‘parents’ who she had shared unconditional love with for all these years weren’t even her real parents! “I can’t be adopted...”
“Bawk bawk...”
But that meant one thing... If these chickens weren’t her parents, who was? “Uh... Elizabeak... do you happen to know who my real parents are?”
The chicken shook her head no.
The filly hung her head dejectedly. That meant that she had really been an orphan this entire time... No, a voice in her head brimming with confidence said; a voice that was completely unknown to her, but one that she instantly felt comfort in. This just means I can go out and find my parents! This means I can go on an adventure, earn my cutie mark, and FIND my real parents! All at o-
“Scootaloo?” a voice called.
Scootaloo turned her head to see Fluttershy standing in front of the chicken coop, watching her with a questioning gaze. Scootaloo’s eyes dilated until the white of her eyes vanished. How could she explain this to Fluttershy? Would she be able to explain this to her?
“Uh... I can explain...” Scootaloo stuttered, trying to come up with a sentence that would explain why exactly she in a chicken coop, without giving away the fact she was visiting her parents. Well, the parents that had adopted her.
“Oh, don’t worry, Scootaloo! Everypony loves the chickens. They’re just so snuggly wuggly and so cute,” Fluttershy said in her motherly voice. “Come out Elizabeak, come out Cluck! It’s feeding time!”
Both of the chicken’s eyes lit up at the mention of feeding time. They both waved goodbye to Scootaloo (unbeknownst to Fluttershy) and went outside, waiting for Fluttershy to toss the feed from the burlap sack on her back.
Scootaloo stayed in the coop, watching the parents that had adopted her. She couldn’t fully grasp the idea that she was adopted... why did her parents lie to her all these years? Was it to protect her? She knew they had loved her like any real parents would, but where did she come from? And more importantly, who were her real parents? Were they ponies? Was she possibly a robot? There was only one thing left to do for Scootaloo, and she needed to do it right away.
“Alright filly!” Scootaloo called out. She was standing in the Cutie Mark Crusaders treehouse on a soapbox, overlooking her friend. Her front leg was raised high, as if she was getting ready to bellow out an order. “Let’s run a check to see if we have everything we need!”
“Alright!” Sweetie Belle replied, looking into the over-stuffed backspace that was laid in the middle of the floor.
“Water!”
“Check!”
“Food!”
“Twenty chocolate bars, fifteen bags of popcorn, a special ‘all you can eat anywhere at all and never feel hungry’ loot bag from Pinkie’s, and some vegetables!... I mean, check!”
“Equipment!”
“Check!”
“So, on our way to begin our adventure, we’ll go meet up with Apple Bloom! Of course, she’ll want to join us, because our special calling in life is adventuring throughout Equestria!”
“Check! I mean... alright!” Sweetie Belle replied, happily bouncing around the backpack. “Only one problem though...”
“And what’s that?” Scootaloo replied, hopping off of her soapbox. There was nothing that could go wrong; absolutely no problems at all. They’d go all over Equestria, looking for Scootaloo’s parents! It would be fun, and they’d earn their cutie marks!
Sweetie Belle stopped bouncing, and stared at the backpack with a mixture of confusion and uncertainty. “How are we going to get the backpack outside? It’s almost as big as the entire treehouse!”
“Unpack it, and re-pack it outside! Duh!” Scootaloo said, playfully jabbing at Sweetie Belle’s shoulder. “And as of now... we are the...” the orange filly began.
“CUTIE MARK CRUSADER PARENT SEEKING ADVENTURERS!” the duo shouted.
