Scootaloo’s been imagining this moment for a while now.
It was just something that she needed. Every time she trained, when her legs burned and her throat was parched and she just wanted to throw up, she imagined this. Crossing the finish line, each impact against the still-bare ground sending a jolt up her leg, a fire burning both under her hooves and within her heart. Confetti filling the air from a party cannon, the pony herself announcing the winner of the race. The spectators’ cheers resonating in her mind, invigorating her.
Especially since Sweetie wasn’t running this year, she was part of the crew, and that meant she would also be there, cheering…
What Scootaloo hadn’t expected was for somepony to get there before her.
Or, not somepony. Smoky was a kirin, one of Scootaloo’s former classmates, and also happened to be a fantastic runner.
“Annnnnnd Scootaloo, coming in second place! A round of applause for our first and second place contestants in this year’s Running of the Leaves, everypony!”
Pinkie Pie fired the second round of confetti from the party cannon.
Scootaloo slowed down after crossing the finish line, though it was important to remain at least somewhat active after a hard race. A sour feeling rose in her throat, but she pushed it down. No need to be a sore loser.
She forced herself to stay light on her hooves, bouncing slightly as she walked towards the kirin.
“Hey, Smoky,” she said. “Nice race.”
“You too,” he replied. “Although… huh. Maybe the winner should have been actually from Ponyville.” They trotted together, heading towards the water booth.
Scootaloo shook her head. “That’s horseapples, Smoky, and you know it. It’s not like you cheated or anything. Besides, you’ve lived here for a year. You’re practically a Ponyville local.”
“That I am.” Smoky smiled. “So, was this your first legitimate Running of the Leaves?”
“Well…” Scootaloo hesitated. She had been banned from the race a year before, due to a rule violation from the year before that. She had been a few days before being able to sign the form herself as an adult, and had stolen Smoky’s number to get in…
Thankfully, they were at the water booth now, and an anticipated arrival saved Scootaloo from answering. That pony was wearing a pair of saddlebags, one of which was bulging out with strange lumps.
“Hey, Smoky!” Sweetie Belle said. She jumped forwards and threw her hooves around the kirin. “It’s been a while!”
Scootaloo’s eyes twitched. Sweetie Belle let go.
“Hi, Sweetie Belle.” Smoky brushed the sweat from his forehead. “I missed you at the starting line.”
“Oh, that’s because I didn’t run this year. I’m part of the race crew.” Sweetie Belle levitated a couple bottles out from her saddlebag. “You two want a drink?”
“Thanks,” both competitors said as they took the bottles, Scootaloo with her hooves and Smoky with his own magical field.
“So,” Sweetie Belle asked, “how are the Peaks these days?”
“Oh,” Smoky said between gulps, “it’s been fine. A bit dull, though, compared with how… eventful Ponyville is. The most exciting incident was that Autumn Blaze set fire to the stage again.”
“Huh.” Scootaloo looked up at Smoky, and quickly glanced at Sweetie Belle before looking back down at her drink. “Drama in the drama production?”
“Nah, not like that. She’s just really into method acting.”
Sweetie Belle giggled, a sparkling sound which made Scootaloo look up again. “She sounds a little like Pinkie Pie. I’d like to meet her some day.”
Smoky smiled. “Well, you’ll just have to visit the Peaks, then! I’d be glad to have my friends over. Anyways, that was a good race, Scootaloo, and thanks for the drink. I’ll see you both around.”
Smoky trotted off, and Scootaloo thought she saw a metallic glint of a tiara in that direction.
Sweetie Belle was looking at Scootaloo.
“So, Scoots, what was all that talk about ‘leaving everypony else in the dust’?”
Scootaloo suddenly realized that her feathers were in need of immediate preening.
“Well, technically Smoky’s not a pony,” she said, “but yeah. Maybe I got a tiny bit too cocky.”
The light touch of a hoof on Scootaloo’s nose caused her to look back. “Hey, at least you’re honest. No shame in being second. We have to shake the leaves off, and everypony contributes. Even the ones who don’t run. How are those muscles, by the way?”
Scootaloo extended a leg, and grimaced. “Not good. Got anything for that? Heat pack, maybe?”
Sweetie Belle shook her head. “Rainbow Dash ran out. I did get something else from her, though.”
Scootaloo took a moment to consider those words. Her mentor, role model, and de facto sister had been living with Sweetie Belle and Rarity ever since the wedding, but the upset in the rankings of ‘most familiar to Rainbow Dash’ still sometimes came as a surprise.
And then Scootaloo’s thoughts were yanked away by the object that Sweetie Belle revealed.
“Umm, do you know what that is?”
“Of course. It’s a massager. Works, right?”
“It’s a wing massager, Sweetie Belle.”
“So? The vibrations should still be good for your other muscles, and I know your wings can get tired from keeping balance while you run.”
“Sweetie Belle, do you know that pegasus wings are… Are…” The words died on her lips. Hadn’t Miss Cheerliee talked about this before? “Nevermind. How did you even get that from Rainbow?”
“Well, it was on her dresser, and she said that I was welcome to use—”
“But you can’t just take things from a pegasus! Especially not, well, that.” Scootaloo glanced around to make sure there weren’t any other ponies around to witness this exchange.
“Well, I’ll talk to Rainbow Dash about it. Anyways, do you want to use this or not? I could help you get some of those hard-to-reach spots.” Sweetie Belle blinked, waiting for a response.
Scootaloo’s wings almost lifted up from just thinking about that, and she forced them back against her body. She shook her head: a response, and an attempt to clear her mind. She backed away slowly.
“Scootaloo? Is there a problem with the massager?” And Sweetie Belle blinked again.
Those eyelashes… Unlike Rarity, Sweetie Belle’s thick eyelashes were completely au naturel. It was totally unfair, and the way she kept blinking, those eyelashes seemed to take on a life of their own. Then Scootaloo was once again thinking about Sweetie Belle with the wing massager, and…
“No! Nothing wrong! Uhh, I have my own set! I can just do it myself when I get home.”
“But Scootaloo,” Sweetie Belle pressed on, “I have one right here. Why don’t you want to use it? If you want to head someplace else, let’s go to the Crusader’s Clubhouse. Apple Bloom will stay and help with race clean-up, so it’ll just be us two.”
Scootaloo realized she’d never truly known what it was to wish to fly. Or to teleport. Or to do anything that would get her out of here, really.
“Sweetie Belle, don’t you still have…” Scootaloo thought for a moment, “…a race crew to… crew?”
“It’s all right,” Sweetie Belle said. She walked forwards, almost brushing against Scootaloo. “I can take some time off for you, Scoots.”
Scootaloo backed up a step, her wings popping out. Blood rushed to her head. “I… no, thanks.”
“Are you sure?” Sweetie Belle said, tilting her head in an inquisitive look.
Scootaloo took a few more steps. “Actually, those, umm, wings are real sore right now. That’s right. So I’ll just head home now and use my own. Thanks for the offer though!”
Then she ran.
And with that irresistible itch in her wings—and other places—Scootaloo thought she might take her own advice for reasons completely unrelated to muscle soreness.
She would probably feel even more exhausted afterwards.
Dammit, Scootaloo! Sweetie Belle thought. She watched Scootaloo’s retreating figure.
I’m so fucked if Rainbow finds out I took this thing. Sweetie Belle stuffed the wing massager back in her saddlebags. And I didn’t even get to use it. Why didn’t you trust me? I live with a pegasus; of course I know what this is.
She let out a frustrated sigh. How obvious can I be?
Author's Note
The cover art should have warned you.
