Big Mare, Bigger Family

“Hi Pound! Hi, Pumpkin!” said Sweetie Belle. “Wow, you two look more like adults every time I see you! Are you here for your cutie mark appointment?”

Pound Cake kicked at the floor. Of all the places he wished he could be at the moment… he would’ve walked out right then and there, but his stupid twin sister held him fast with her magic.

“Yep!” said Pumpkin. She trotted forward with Pound in tow. “We both are. Isn’t that right, Pound?”

Pound gave her a look that could curdle milk.

But Pumpkin was immune to his glares. She merely gave him that disgusting saccharine smile she always did.

Sweetie Belle didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Great! Pumpkin, you’ll come with me. Pound, you’ll be meeting with Scootaloo. She’s waiting for you up in the cloud portion of the building.”

Pound withheld his sigh. Seemed there was nothing for it. He was going to be locked into a cutie mark… unless he flew the coop soon as he got away from Pumpkin—

“You can find your way up there by yourself, right?” said Pumpkin sweetly. “What am I saying, of course you can! Just use your noodle.”

...Damn it all, one of these days he was going to come clean to Mom and Dad about that. If for no other reason than to stop things like this.

Grumbling, Pound shuffled towards the stairs. He ambled up them as slowly as possible to drag out the inevitable. He walked up a few flights before he got to a door with a sign reading ‘CLOUDWALKING REQUIRED BEYOND THIS POINT’. He opened it and was greeted with a tunnel of white that’d been sculpted expertly into more stairs. He flew up the rest of the way into the enormous cloud he and Pumpkin had seen coming in. It had to have been big as a barn!

Pound’s thoughts wandered as he flew. He didn’t pay much attention to adults, but wasn’t Scootaloo the tiny mare married to Rumble, that HUGE stallion with the quadruplet colts? Why would she need such a big area? Pound saw Rumble all the time at Sugarcube Corner picking up multiple supersized take-out orders, but Scootaloo was never with him. Which was weird, because Pound could’ve swore that she used to be a regular—hey, yeah! She was! She used to come all the time with Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom! She was the boisterous one who liked strawberry milk shakes and always called him—

When Pound got to the top of the stairs, he suddenly felt like he’d shrunk.

Everything about the room was enormous. The chairs, the equipment, the windows, the amount of open area, the space to the ceiling, everything. Erm… okay, maybe not everything. The portion of the room closest to Pound made up a fourth of the total space, and everything there was normal-sized. But the remaining three-quarters looked like it’d been designed for a giant!

“What the…” Pound rubbed his eyes. Was this one those optical illusion things? He looked at the ‘normal’ area, then over at the huge one. It didn’t seem like his perspective was off, but then what the hay was with this? There were a few doors on the far end of the room that led assumedly led to other rooms, and those were ginormous, too! And most strange of all, an entire corner of the room was dedicated to what looked like a… nursery?

Cautiously, Pound flew into the room proper—

Ding-a-ling-a-ling!

He felt the tingle of passing through a magic sensor. A jingling noise echoed throughout the cavernous room.

ZRRRRT! “Is that you, Poundy?” said a scratchy voice to his right.

Pound jumped. The voice had come from a glowing crystal mounted on cloud studs to the wall. He recognized it as one of those new enchanted voice things from the Crystal Empire.

“E-Erm, yeah.” Pound moved closer to the crystal. He just talked into these, right? He was pretty sure he did. “Where are you?”

ZRRRRT! “Sorry, had to use the filly’s room. Feel free to look around! I’ll be out in a sec.”

The crystal went dark.

Pound pursed his lips. He hovered there in place a few seconds, eyes wandering. He twiddled his hooves awhile, but then curiosity got the better of him and he flew over to the bigger area.

It wasn’t a trick. Everything over here was way larger than it should be, from the door-frames to the equipment to the rolls of parchment. The desk really was seven feet tall and twenty feet wide. The sporting equipment really could’ve been for a mid-sized dragon. The posters on the walls really were like miniature tapestries. There was a cloud ‘mini-fridge’ by the nursery area, but it was several times larger than a real fridge! He opened it up for a peek inside, and strangely, what he found was rows upon rows of pony-sized enchanted bottles filled with… milk?

The pieces started to click for Pound. He looked back over at the desk, and there, among the papers and folders and pictures, a huge feathered quill sat in an ink bottle, freshly plucked and orange like the sunset.

It was as big as he was long.

FLUSH

Pound gulped. There was the sound of running water from his left, and a moment later, one of the far doors opened.

“Heya, Poundy!” said Scootaloo. “Was wondering when you and your sister would show up here. Good to see ya!”

In Pound’s head, Scootaloo was super short, super scrawny, tiny wings like a hummingbird’s, kinda pale and grumpy-looking. This Scootaloo was none of that! She was so tall that she’d had to crouch to get into the gigantic bathroom! Strong muscles covered every inch of her solid frame that slid and flexed beneath her supple skin. Her wings were long enough to touch two houses across the street from one another. Her plush, shiny coat positively bloomed with color, her deep purple mane was like a waterfall cascading to the floor...

...but what captivated Pound most was her eyes. Warm, bright, and gentle, a single look into them melted his unease like snow in a spring rain.

Scootaloo smiled. “How’ve you been?”

Pound remembered himself. “U-Uh… good! G-Good, yeah. Been good. You uh... haven’t been by Sugarcube Corner in a while! Guess now I know why, heh-heh...”

Scootaloo chuckled. “Yeah, doubt I’d fit anymore. I’ve kinda outgrown most places.”

She made to walk out of the bathroom—

—and immediately got stuck.

“Oh, ponyfeathers.” She tried to squeeze—yes, squeeze through the alleyway-sized doorframe, but to no avail. “Speaking of which—hnng—just gimme—ergh—asecond here!”

And that’s when Pound noticed the other change. Scootaloo wasn’t just humongous, she was humongously pregnant! Her firm, BULGING barrel protruded well beyond her shoulders and wide hips like an overripe pear, so large it touched her shins! Her thick skin was stretched tight around her womb as it safeguarded the burgeoning lives within.

Scootaloo pulled and squirmed, but she was caught fast. “For Luna’s sake! SCREW IT!”

She kicked at the cloud doorframe. Pound winced at the POOMF of walls denting as Scootaloo crudely freed herself. How she’d even gotten in there was anypony’s guess. She pulled one last time, and finally, she managed to shimmy out of the bathroom.

“Ahhh.” Scootaloo rose to her full height. She absolutely towered over him—he didn’t even come up to her knees! She wiggled her gargantuan wings and cracked her neck with a loud POP! “Never was much for cloudshaping. Sorry about that, I could get in and out of there just fine on Friday! Guess I had another growth spurt over the weekend.”

Pound’s mouth fell open. Even as high as the ceiling was, Scootaloo’s head nearly grazed it! How big was she?!

Scootaloo had to fight the urge to laugh. She wished she could say how adorable he was, but colts didn’t enjoy that very much. “I know, I know. Even this place is getting a little small, isn’t it? Can’t even spread my wings in here anymore. Don’t worry, Rainbow Dash is expanding the place once I go on maternity leave. Think she said she’s gonna make it four times as big.”

Pound swallowed hard. Upon hearing the words ‘maternity leave’, his gaze fell down to Scootaloo’s blooming belly, swaying ever-so-slightly from her movements. Her barrel alone was larger than he was—WAY larger! Its healthy color and sheen made her look like she was glowing, and he could actually feel the heat flowing off her...

“Mrs. Scootaloo?” he said.

Okay, now she laughed. “You don’t have to be polite, bud. I’ve known you and your sister since you were born!”

Pound blushed. “S-Sorry… can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

Dozens of questions raced through his mind, but really, it they all boiled down to one thing.

“How?”

Scootaloo waggled her eyebrows. “How else? Magic.”

Pound blinked several times. “...Oh.”

Scootaloo winked. Gently, she eased herself down onto the cloud floor and rolled partway onto her side. Her sprawled-out frame took up a good chunk of the room as her womb reshaped itself, its crest rising high into the air.

“Wanna see something cool?” she asked.

Pound hesitated. “Uh…”

Scootaloo beckoned him over. “C’mere. Put your hoof on my middle.”

Normally, Pound wasn’t for this kind of stuff. He wasn’t really a big fan of touching other ponies, period. Yet he found himself going over to Scootaloo, her calm voice and patient smile drawing him in.

Salt and sugar, she looked even bigger up close...

“Here.” Scootaloo pointed to a spot above her navel. “All the others are zonked out, but this guy’s been poking and prodding me since breakfast, the booger. Go ahead and feel.”

Pound was entranced. For a time he watched the curve of Scootaloo’s womb rise and fall with her powerful breaths. Her size loomed over him like a living wall of clean-smelling fur, her popped-out bellybutton almost three times bigger than his head! There was a visible line running up and down her barrel that made her belly look like it was sticking out even more, and he while he didn’t mean to, he also spied her MASSIVE breasts, each one bigger than him!

Pound placed his hoof where Scootaloo indicated. Her thick coat was like heather, the warm skin stretched taut like a drum. He waited a few seconds with nothing happening…

THUMP!

“Whoa!” Pound jumped. The spot he’d been feeling distended a second time before smoothing back out.

Scootaloo grunted. “Yup. That’s Tailwind. Got his daddy’s legs.”

Pound didn’t even realize he was grinning ear to ear. “Oh my gosh!” He started prodding her firm belly here and there.“You’re gonna be a mom!”

Scootaloo snickered. “I’m already a mom, silly goose.” She booped his muzzle with a hoof. “More like I’m gonna be a mom again.”

Pound giggled. Her hoof was bigger around than his torso, but she’d been as gentle as a feather with it. “How soon?”

“Hard to say,” Scootaloo said. “Could be a week, could be three, could be longer. Doc says it’s up to me.”

Pound squinted. He… guessed that made sense? “So which is it?”

Scootaloo smiled. She lovingly stroked her womb, its syrupy weight swirling around. “The longer they stay in there, the bigger and healthier we’ll be. My goal is five weeks.”

Pound thought little of the strange emphasis. “E-Erm... others? Are you having more than one?”

Oh, this was gonna be great. Slyly, Scootaloo brought her head close and whispered, “I’m having ten.”

Pound’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. He went slack-jawed as he gaped at her, then back at her immense belly. He did it a few times before remembering how to speak.

“TEN?!”’

Ah, Scootaloo never got tired of this. Adults always tried to hide their reactions, but kids were priceless. “Told you it was cool.”

“Holy buttered biscuits!” Pound could hardly believe his ears. “S-Scootaloo! You’re gonna have fourteen kids! FOURTEEN!”

Scootaloo smirked. She stretched out her legs as far as she could, all four hooves brushing againstthe walls. “Fourteen… for now.”

Somehow, Pound’s eyes got even wider. “F-F-For now?”

Scootaloo’s eyes twinkled. “Let’s just say Rumble and I aren’t done yet. Not by a long shot.”

Pound was at a loss. He wanted Scootaloo to elaborate, but she just kept wearing that mischievous smile. Meh, it was probably Weird Adult Stuff like always.

“But enough about me,” she said. “Let’s talk about why you’re here. A little birdie told me that you don’t want to get your cutie mark.”

Pound went pale. “I-I’d rather not—”

Scootaloo cocked her head to the side. “Why not?”

Pound shuffled his hooves. “...Do I really have to say?”

“Poundy.”

Pound winced. No getting out of this one, it seemed. He’d gone a long time keeping this to himself, too. “...One of the older ponies at school told me something before summer started. He said getting a cutie mark traps you into doing the same thing forever.”

Scootaloo’s face was a mask. “And you believed him?”

Meekly, Pound nodded.

Scootaloo withheld her sigh. This was the third time she and the other Crusaders had heard something like this. It might be time to speak with Cheerilee about it. “That kid was just trying to scare you. Getting your cutie mark just shows the world what makes you special, not that you can never do anything else.”

“But what if I get a cutie mark in something I don’t like?” Pound burst out. “What if I get tired of doing it after a while? What if it turns me into a totally different pony? What if Mom and Dad are ashamed of me? What if has nothing to do with cooking?! I like cooking! I wanna be a chef when I grow up—”

“Hey-hey-hey-hey.” Scootaloo held up a hoof. “Shhhhh, calm down. It’s alright.”

Pound’s wings were fluttering at his sides. He was tensed up, pupils shrunk, his breathing quick and shallow. He worked his jaw in a circle while wetting his lips over and over.

Scootaloo furrowed her brow. “You’ve... really been worked up about this, haven’t you? Aww, Poundy. C’mere.”

Pound hung his head. He hiccuped as he came closer, letting her scoop him up and bring him to her chest. He buried his face in her fluffy fur without a word.

He was like a doll to her. She held him in her arms to envelop him in her warmth, and he was soon crying and clutching her tight. Scootaloo hummed a soft tune as they snuggled together like that for a time in the quiet.

“I d-don’t wanna... hic… b-be stuck…”

“You won’t be,” Scootaloo said. “That’s not how it works at all. Have you talked to anypony about this? Your mom and dad?”

She felt Pound shake his head.

Of course he hadn’t. He wouldn’t be panicking if he had. “Take it from an expert, then. A cutie mark just shows what you have a knack for. What’s easy for you! That’s why most ponies try to make it their jobs. It’s not because we HAVE to.”

Pound sniffled. “Really?”

“Really,” Scootaloo said. “And it certainly doesn’t mean that you’ll only ever be good at justone thing. You can be good at lots of things! Your special talent it just the one thing that clicks.”

Pound looked up at her. “B-But, then…”

“You know,” Scootaloo said. “When Rumble was your age, he went through a phase where he didn’t want his cutie mark, either.”

Pound wiped his eyes. Scootaloo’s blurry face came into focus above him, smiling down from her high vantage point. Her long mane looked like a swaying curtain from this angle.

“He was good at a lot of different things, but what he wanted most of all was to join the Wonderbolts like his brother.” Scootaloo laughed and shook her head. “He stopped doing anything that wasn’t flying or racing because he thought it might earn him the ‘wrong’ cutie mark.”

Pound’s ears drooped. He’d actually been thinking about doing the same thing.

“He even convinced a bunch of other foals to stop looking for their cutie marks for a while.” Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “I still remember them all sitting around together by themselves, afraid to try or do anything. We eventually had to get his brother to come to camp to convince Rumble how silly he was being.”

A thought occurred to Pound. “B-But, wait! Rumble’s NOT in the Wonderbolts! I heard him talking one day, he said he does something with weather in Cloudsdale!”

Scootaloo squinted. She was silent for a few seconds, almost like she was sizing Pound up. She glanced over at the door to downstairs. It was closed tight.

“Can you keep a secret?” she asked.

Pound’s face was blank. “...Yes?”

“I’m serious,” Scootaloo warned. “Rumble doesn’t want this to get out.”

“Okay, I-I promise!” Pound made a gesture across his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye!”

Scootaloo blinked several times. “Riiiiight, right. Of course YOU would know the Pinkie Promise, heh. Probably what it means, too...”

Pound looked at her like she was an alien. “Who doesn’t?”

Scootaloo was quiet a bit longer before clearing her throat. “Alright, I’ll tell you. Rumble’s not IN the Wonderbolts, but he does work for them. You know all that crazy weather and other flashy stuff that goes on during the shows? He’s on the team that comes up with that. They work out of Cloudsdale’s weather factory to keep a low profile.”

Pound had to make sure he’d heard that right. “W-Wait, he works for the Wonderbolts… but he’s not on the team? But… but that’s not racing! You said he wanted—”

“—to race, I know.” Scootaloo looked out one of the windows. Up in the sky, she could spot the far-off dots of pegasi moving clouds to the south. “He got to a certain point and realized it wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. He would’ve had to make sacrifices to go further, and that wasn’t what he wanted. He realized other things were more important.”

Pound frowned. “Other things?”

Scootaloo smiled. “Sometimes, the things we want most are right in front of us all along. In Rumble’s case… it was family.”

Pound opened his mouth, but then closed it again. He looked down at his hooves in silence, thoughts whirring.

“You don’t need to be scared, Poundy.” Scootaloo gave him a gentle squeeze. “Rumble’s cutie mark means he’s good at flying in rough weather, but he didn’t have to be a Wonderbolt to be happy. Being a husband and a father makes him happy too, and trust me, he’s as good at that as anything else! Your special talent is just a part of who you are, not all of who you are.”

Pound looked like he was trying to solve a tricky riddle. “So… most ponies have their special talent as their jobs… which is their cutie mark… because it’s easier? Not because they have to?”

Scootaloo chuckled. “It’s not easy being an adult. You cut corners wherever you can.”

Pound didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. “And you can still try and do other things.”

“Yep.”

“Or have a job that’s not your special talent.”

“You might have to work a little harder at it, but absolutely.”

“But what if my cutie mark is wrong?” Pound asked. “What if it turns out I’m really better at something else? I may never try it!”

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Poundy, have you ever heard of that happening?”

Pound bit his lip. He looked away again, but only because craning his head up was making his neck sore. “N-No…”

“Then what makes you think you’ll be the first?” Scootaloo adjusted her weight a bit, feeling flutters from a few foals shifting. “I know you, you’re not the kind of colt to get caught up in any one thing. I know it seems ponies get absorbed in their special talents, but that’s because they’ve found something they love! It doesn’t change who they are.”

Pound leaned back into her warm chest. “I-I… I guess that makes sense.”

“Hey, would I steer you wrong?” Scootaloo lifted him up higher so they could be eye to eye. “Trust me, when you find your special talent, you’ll still love to do all the same things you do now. The only thing stopping you from trying new things from then on is yourself.”

Pound was silent. He looked into Scootaloo’s huge face, her words still echoing in his mind. Little by little, his worries gave way to her soothing voice.

Scootaloo studied him. “Feel any better?”

Pound took a long, deep breath, then let it out slow and steady. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Scootaloo brought him close for a nuzzle. “Anytime. Now, all we’re gonna do today is just brainstorm on what your cutie mark might be. Once we have some ideas, we’ll figure out the best way for you to try ‘em next time you come. Sound good?”

Pound still looked a little unsure. “Will you be helping me?”

Scootaloo shrugged. “A little, but this is about you. Finding your cutie mark means finding out about yourself! Besides, I’m a little big to be helping you with most things, heh…”

Pound certainly couldn’t argue with that. “I-I still can’t believe how huge you are! You’re the biggest pony I’ve ever seen! You’re the size of my whole house! Maybe even BIGGER!”

An odd smile crept up on Scootaloo’s face. “You think this is big? Ha!” Scootaloo unfurled her wings as much as she could, bathing the whole room in an orange tint. “Trust me, Poundy. You haven’t seen anything yet!”