The highest room of the tallest tower was surprisingly sparse, considering who used it. One might have thought it would be richly furnished.

Scootaloo slunk up the stairs, lowering herself all the way to her belly as she made it to the top and peeked over the final step, into the chilly, austere room that was the Princesses Watch. Finding it empty, she rose and moved directly to her next goal.

Wind whistled through the gap in the balcony door as she pressed a hoof on the latch, and whipped into the room as she pushed it open against the gale. Bracing it with a hoof, she squeezed her way outside into Canterlot air and let the wind slam it shut. It locked, of course, but Scootaloo wasn't planning on going back that way.

If the inside was chilly, the gusts outside were freezing. The jacket pinning her wings to her side cut most of the bite, however, and she was far more concerned about her balance as she reared up and clambered onto the railing.

Whoo, that's high. That's really high. She felt her stomach tighten as the ground seemed to retreat even farther away, the distance stretching as she watched. She screwed her eyes shut and refocused. C'mon, Scoots, you came here for the heights. Real pegasai aren't afraid of heights.

From the railing, the young mare carefully stretched and hooked a fetlock under the edge of the roof. Both rear hooves on the rail, one on the eves and one touching the wall for balance, she took a steadying breath. You got this. Just... do what you came here to do. Just jump. That's all this is. Just a hop.

...

Her uncle placed a hoof on her shoulder, drawing her away from the edge of the cloud. "Careful, lil'Loo. Don't fall."

...

"What good is a pegasus that can't even fly!" Diamond Tiara said. Scootaloo's eyes went wide as Apple Bloom stepped forward in anger.

...

"So... you're... disabled? Y-you'll never-" Sweetie Belle choked, eyes filled with tears. Pity. Scootaloo hated it. She ran, but they found her later, comforted her.

...

"Seriously! What can I do! Name one job that's good for a flightless pegasus!" Scootaloo yelled. Rainbow Dash stepped back, surprise and doubt in her eyes. Scootaloo turned to give her a good look at her cutie mark. "You know what that is? It's a wrench. On a pony that wanted nothing more in life than to fly. And now I can't!"

She stood there, huffing as Rainbow Dash turned away. It was a long moment before Rainbow spoke.

"You're pathetic, Scootaloo."

"What?" Scootaloo had been so shocked, she had stopped crying right then and there. From all ponies, she had never expected that.

"You heard me." Rainbow Dash said, looking out over the edge of the bridge. "You're pathetic! I can't believe you! I can't believe that anypony could give up on themselves that easily! You're never allowed to give up on your dreams. Ever."

"But, the doctor said-"

"I don't care!" Rainbow Dash spun back around, and Scootaloo recoiled from her angry tone and... tears. Rainbow Dash was crying, too. "You know what else was impossible? The Sonic Rainboom! Reforming Discord! Half the stuff we used to do on a regular basis! So pony up!"

Scootaloo hung her head, ashamed, as Rainbow Dash said the exact, soul-crushing words she needed to hear.

"Pony up and do something about it. I don't want to be friends with a quitter. I won't let you be a quitter."

...

Eight months later, Scootaloo stood on the railings of the Princesses Watch over Canterlot. She could feel sweat beading under her wool collar, and, of all things, her wings itched. She shifted her hooves in the tiniest ways to keep her balance as the wind clawed at her, trying to tear her away.

A moment later, finally ready, Scootaloo let it take her.

There was a split second where Scootaloo wondered. Not about anything in particular. Just... being there. In the sky. Truly alone, with nothing to hold on to. Nothing to believe in but herself.

This was flying.

Her mind was telling her she was going to die, but she was flying.

The first terrace was past her before she could think about it. Something clicked and she twisted her body, changing her graceless tumble into a predatory dive. Windows and balconies flashed past faster than any eye could detect, and Scootaloo bared her teeth against the screaming gale. She felt magic rip through her mane and tail as she reached top speed. The perfect speed.

She would meet the plaza below in less than a second.

Scootaloo spread her wings, pressing them against the inside of her very special jacket.

Eight months of work. Sleepless nights, double-checking, prototyping, calculating. Testing. Fixing. Training.

One moment.

Air caught the special pockets, inflating them. Fabric snapped taunt and expanded. Cords twanged under stress. The best materials Equestria had were tested. Every ounce of breath was knocked out of Scootaloo as the harness pressed into her chest and barrel, she strained to keep her head up and her legs tucked as gravity, drag and inertia ripped at her from every direction.

The jacket cracked like a bullwhip and finished it's transformation, and Scootaloo pulled out of her dive, speeding down the street. Building after building shot past, and every bit of focus Scootaloo had was poured into keeping on the one safe course she had plotted out. Passerby below barely had time to register the hiss of her passage before she was several blocks away. She reached the edge of the city and burst out into open air. She could hear something, and realized she was screaming. Or laughing. Maybe crying again. She didn't know. She didn't care.

"YEAH! YEAH, YEAH, YEAH! WHACHU' GOT, WORLD?" She rocked her wing gently down as the pressures on the wingsuit eased, going into a gentle turning glide to look at the sparkling trail of royal purple behind her, streaming off her her tail and the tips of her airfoil. She laughed, tears streaking across her temples as the wind swept them away. She laughed until she had caught her breath enough to shout.

"MY NAME IS SCOOTALOO, AND I FREAKING WIN!"

"...until the fear of death is overcome by the love of speed."

Author's Note

Alternate title: "The Reason Verbose Does Not Write 'Feels:' He Sucks"

I have a strong desire to write more of this, but I don't have a real story. Maybe a less-abridged version?