Apple Bloom shook her head.
"Sorry, Scoots, not this week, I got other, um, plans." Her friend grimaced as she looked at the calendar. "I'm sorry, but this really slipped my mind and I shoulda' sent ya a letter wavin' ya off."
Scootaloo hesitated as she brushed snow off her jacket. Apple Bloom never canceled their monthly little meets, the only time they had ever missed one was when Scootaloo had been trapped in her Manehattan apartment during a hurricane. "Is everything ok? You seem a little..."
"Well..." Apple Bloom shrugged, beckoning her further into the house to the kitchen. "It's a bit of a personal day. See, it's Ma and Pa's birthday, and somepony has to go visit them, and we go for Granny too. Applejack and Big Mac are outta town for the winter, so... that leaves me. Sorry, I didn't want to be all awkward n' stuff."
"Oh." Scootaloo said. Honestly, she didn't know what else to say. She'd known Apple Bloom since they were fillies and never known about this. This was a very personal thing for her friend, and now she just showed up-
"Now, don't y'all think you're going and interrupting something special and all, Scoots, I see what you're thinkin'!" Apple Bloom admonished, dropping a plate full of warm scones on the table. "I ain't gonna kick you out, you can stay, come with me if you like, or I can drop y'all off at the Castle on the way. I heard Rainbow Dash is visiting."
Scootaloo nodded to herself, lost in thought as she nibbled on her scone. Apple Bloom gave her the parental look she was starting to get scarily good at. "Speak up, hun, what on your mind?"
"Nothing." Scootaloo flinched, realizing she said that far too quickly. "Well, I dunno. I... I've never really been to, well... a graveyard."
Apple Bloom shrugged, tipping the baking pan into the kitchen sink. "Well, memorial, there ain't no bodies there, but same idea. You want to come?"
"I'm thinking about it. My mother is there, I guess. I should. Maybe."
Apple Bloom gave her a reassuring nuzzle. "I'd like the company on the way, at least."
Scootaloo nodded, firmly this time, mind made up. "Sure. Sure, I'll come and check it out."
"That's real sweet of you, Scoots."
Scootaloo took a bite out of her scone, chewing and wondering what part was so sweet.
***
Scootaloo and Apple Bloom stopped at the archway of the Whitetail Memorial, the wrought-iron fence stretching out-of-sight to either side and a field of fresh snow ahead of them, broken only by the stone markers. It was silent save for their soft breathing, and snow drifted to the ground in a light dusting of big, soft flakes.
Apple Bloom looked at Scootaloo questioningly. You can stop here, if you like. You don't have to come any further.
"So..." Scootaloo pawed the snow lightly, just enough to leave a hoofprint. "Meet back here in a little bit?"
Apple Bloom nodded, and they stepped through the archway.
Apple Bloom new where she was going, and Scootaloo wandered away further up the hill, checking dates on the engravings as she went. It wasn't far before the memorials were suddenly too old, and she doubled back and trudged down the most likely lane.
She found it almost instantly.
It was a small marker, in blue granite, with only a name, dates and design Scootaloo could only guess was a cutie mark. Gale Rose, 940-997 ANM. Three petals and a swirl of wind.
Scootaloo stood there, unsure.
...
"Hi, mom."
...
"I guess."
...
"I have no idea how this works."
Scootaloo stepped closer, reaching out a hoof to brush the snow off the top of the stone and away from the bottom, revealing a the very bottom of the cutie mark.
"I dunno what ponies actually do when they come here, really." Scootaloo said quietly to the marker. "Look sad, it seems. But I... huh. I never really wondered that much about you. I mean... you seemed pretty enough in that picture Cheerilee found all those years ago. Can't judge much from that, though."
Folding her tail under her and shifting her wings under her jacket, Scootaloo sat down.
"Oh! Right. I can't fly. Not your fault, of course. I made this jacket, though, it lets me glide really, really fast." She stretched a wing out, pushing the airfoil of the jacket to shape.
"Not sure why I'm telling this to a rock with a name on it."
...
"Well, maybe it's the off-chance you can hear me."
...
"What would you think of me?"
...
"Proud, I bet. I mean, I've done some cool things. The Crusader Charity is up there, the wingsuit, that one time me and the girls saved Canterlot... hmm."
...
"Ok, this is dumb. This is a rock with a name on it. It can't hear me."
And if it can, I'm sure it can hear my thoughts, too, so....
Thanks? For... making me? Letting me have the life I did? I'm sorry to say I wouldn't trade it. I love Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle and the others too much. I would never have it another way. Yeah. Thanks for that. That's good, right?
Scootaloo got up, shaking herself and snapping her tail to get the snow off. Apple Bloom was waiting for her at the archway already.
"Y'all ok?"
"Yeah." Scootaloo nodded. "It's... meh. I dunno what to feel about that. Not as creepy as I thought a graveyard would be."
"Memorial." Apple Bloom corrected.
They walked side-by-side back through Whitetail Woods, Applebloom humming quietly to herself and Scootaloo lost in thought. Finally, Scootaloo could stand it no longer.
"Hey, I got a crazy craving for hayfries. You wanna get hayfries?"
***
Author's Note
How do you write feels when you don't got 'em? I don't remember my mom, so I haven't the foggiest how to get the waterworks flowing in stuff like this. Yet people expect other things, don't they? I'm more upset knowing I'm supposed to be upset.
Title is nonsense in the same vein as Scoot's name, reference without really being a real word.
In (rather lacking) memory of Abigale Rose Cushenberry, 1940-1997. Ride on, Ranger.
