She is gone. Her own mother, not by blood, but by sheer love, is gone. The one who brought the joy of music into her life, the one who gave her everything she never thought she could have... is gone.

But she will carry on the beat.

Every song, every beat, every drop. Every memory, every trial, every tear. This is Scootaloo's melody.

Author's Note:
If you haven’t already, I suggest you read the first story. I would love it if you would point out all of the mistakes you find... well, as far as grammar and all that goes, at least. If you would like to help out as an editor, that would be great.