Like every night in Ponyville, it was nighttime. Scootaloo was asleep, and it was the job of Torus Café employee Dead Ringer to place a doughnut beside her without waking her up. She was levitating a box of doughnuts each wrapped in a couple of napkins, the unsold ones from that day, and it was her turn to distribute them to homeless ponies. She successfully placed the doughnut beside her without waking her up, then successfully walked away.

It was a pleasant day. Twenty degrees, partly cloudy, a 10 km/h wind from the east. Scootaloo was in her box eating her strawberry cream cheese-filled doughnut, perhaps the only food she would have over that day and tomorrow. Just at her street corner eating her doughnut. The simple life. According to her, her survival situation wasn’t that bad; she spent a lot of time at school and some time over at Apple Bloom’s and Sweetie Belle’s houses, so she got at least forty hours of shelter and five meals a week and usually more.

It was scheduled to rain that day in Ponyville, and no cloud-clearing whatsoever was done for the day. However, the predictions were slightly off, and that night, it rained like they were on the edge of a hurricane. No lightning, just a lot of rain. This was fine by Scootaloo, who had her plastic bottle out to collect it whilst she philosophised under her box. The sound of rain hitting cardboard directly above her head was much louder and blunter than the traditional sound of rain, but it was still pleasant, and definitely better than the long silences to the point of sensory deprivation she usually got to experience. The box was starting to let the occasional drop through at the corners, but it wasn’t that bad yet. But suddenly, something actually happened. She listened as some splashing noises clearly distinct from the rain slowly came closer to her.

“Scootaloo?” Fluttershy said.

“I don’t care what you have for me, I’m fine.”

“Do you want to stay at my house tonight?”

“Well... the box is starting to leak....” She overturned it.

“I’m sorry I don’t have any clothes for you...” said a Fluttershy in a full set of a coat, leggings, and boots.

“That’s all right.”

As they arrived at Fluttershy’s house, Rainbow Dash was tied to Applejack’s bed, had tape over her mouth, and was bleeding in a couple places from overwhipping, but she wasn’t half as wet as Scootaloo. Fluttershy went inside followed by Scootaloo, after they wiped their hooves for about a minute.

“What should I make for you?”

“Water.”

“Is there something less depressing?”

“I liked the generic soup you made before.”

Fluttershy was crushed into a cube by a scrapyard compactor at two things: first, that her soup was apparently generic, and second, that she didn’t get to make something different. Helping Scootaloo was already not very variable, and now she had to cook the exact same thing?

“You don’t have to have that again.”

“Well, I’m sorry I like it so much I want it again. Having the same doughnut flavours other ponies rejected and the same school food day after day really makes me crave variety sometimes, so to want the same thing again means a lot for me.”

“That’s fine. I was just saying you don’t have to have it. Like you said, you have the same food a lot of the time.”

“I know. Sorry I got mad.”

“It’s okay.”

Fluttershy went to make the soup and Scootaloo went to take a shower. Fluttershy dropped a couple of things due to being ungulate, and Scootaloo dropped the soap and thought it was funny then realised that that joke doesn’t work because she’s a quadruped and even if it did she kind of felt bad thinking prison rape was funny, but it was generally uneventful.

“Scootaloo?” Fluttershy said. “The soup’s ready.”

“All right, I’m almost out.”

Fluttershy had two problems with what she had just said: first, raising her voice felt weird even if it was just to call someone, and second, the soup was only done, and it hadn’t been put into bowls or cooled down very much yet. By the time Scootaloo came, neither of these were problems, but her lie would haunt her until she forgot ever specifically saying it the next day. The table was already set, food and half the party included, so she took a seat.

“How have you been?” Fluttershy said.

“Just normal.”

“That’s... good?”

“Yeah. Look, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I’m happy to quietly mooch off you and leave.”

“You’re not mooching, you’re a starving foal. Besides, I was the one that came to you.”

“It isn’t like I have a life to talk about anyway.”

“You go to school.”

“I guess. I have a couple friends, I get frustrated at failing things. There isn’t that much to it. I am just a foal, after all.”

“What about surviving?”

“Oh, that’s not that interesting. I sit around and hope Torus Café doesn’t sell everything out. I’m not alone in the wilderness.”

“You really don’t have anything to say?”

“It isn’t a complex thing, honestly. What about you?”

“Having a few pets doesn’t produce much drama.”

A long silence ensued. They ate their soup, Scootaloo feeling quite happy with her situation and Fluttershy feeling more awkward than usual. Before Fluttershy even made a dent in her serving, disregarding that it was liquid, Scootaloo finished hers.

“Already? I know you’re Scootaloo, but....”

She pushed the bowl towards Fluttershy. “Next.”

Fluttershy got her another bowl from the massive pot the likes of which even Scootaloo wasn’t going to clean. “Here.”

“Thanks. Sorry if I seem ungrateful.”

“I wasn’t thinking that.”

Fluttershy felt she couldn’t just sit there all day, she had to say something. This was wrong, as Scootaloo had explicitly stated, but she felt awkward.

“So... do you like your life? I mean, you obviously don’t, but... are you happy?”

“Yeah. I’m bored and hungry most of the time, and sometimes I cry about it and drink my tears, but I survive winters and I’ve never really come that close to starving, so it’s not that bad. I don’t know if bored is the right word, actually, because I am happy. I think I’m more content. Besides, it’s all about the baseline anyway. Ponies are just as happy however comfortably they live, maybe short of prison, and it’s when something unusual happens that you feel happy or sad. And by living like I do, I’m happy with pretty much anything. I really, really enjoy food and especially sleeping on a bed, when most ponies don’t even think about it.”

“You really think you’re happier than you would be with a normal life in a developed country?”

“No. But everything has its advantages.”

The awkwardness that only Fluttershy felt resumed. She still had a long way to go just sitting there, and she didn’t have a legitimate reason to leave the table. Scootaloo said she would be fine with it, but it still felt rather rude.

“Scootaloo?”

“What?”

“I... I feel like we should talk, but I don’t have anything to say....”

“Neither do I. It doesn’t matter, the point was to feed me, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but... it’d be a bit strange to just sit here....”

“I’m okay with it.”

Later, a pony named Stealth Fighter got his smoothie from the pickup counter at the southernmost of the three Smoothie Smiths in Canterlot, then somehow carried it over to the table where his friend Olive Oil was waiting. Olive Oil also had a smoothie, the flavour of the smoothie providing a negligible amount of entertainment when compared with its bendy straw.

“Hey,” Olive said.

“Hi. Is your smoothie good?”

“Pretty. So continue with the story about your girlfriend.”

Either Scootaloo had to be full or Fluttershy had to try to be social again. One of them had to happen, no matter how long it took. Fluttershy sat there and watched Scootaloo eat her second bowl of soup, but after that there was still a long way to go.

“You don’t have to be here if you don’t want to,” Scootaloo said.

“I don’t have something to do....”

“Look. You don’t want to talk, I don’t want to talk. You don’t need to feel bad about anything. There must some animal that needs attention, right?”

She knew something felt weird, and it was now that Fluttershy realised how unusually quiet the house had been. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, don’t feel like you have to stay here.”

“Wherever I am, I’ll be waiting awkwardly....”

“Is there anything else I can do to make you feel like a good pony?”

“You can sleep here tonight.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

They smiled at each other, then once it started to feel weird, Fluttershy got Scootaloo her next bowl and everything went back to normal.

“I think that’s it,” Scootaloo said, having just finished her fifth bowl. “I’m not hungry.” She looked at her glass of water. “Or thirsty, either. It’s a weird feeling.”

“So what now?”

“I’d love to be awkward with you for a while longer, but I need to sleep.”

“The bedroom’s upstairs, I’ll show you.”

She led Scootaloo out of the kitchen and across the front room and pulled out an attic ladder. They both climbed up. It was a proper, finished room, with a carpeted floor, painted walls, and a ceiling that wasn’t shaped like a series of rafters, but there was an obvious problem.

“There’s only one bed,” Scootaloo said.

“We can both sleep in it.”

“Are you sure we won’t accidentally have sex?”

“It only applies to ponies who have sexual feelings for each other, doesn’t it?”

“I guess, I’m just worried.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about.”

Scootaloo went on the bed. “So do you have any more rooms I haven’t heard about?”

“The basement leads into a dungeon.”

“Why do you, Fluttershy, have a dungeon?”

“I wasn’t the first to live here, okay? I never use it.”

“Sorry, it’s just weird.”

“Um, I have something to ask you.” Fluttershy pulled a sheet from under the bed. “Do you want this? I never use it.”

“I’ve tried owning blankets and such before. Stolen overnight every time.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. So are you staying up for a while longer?”

“I think so.”

“Ruff!” Whiskers said.

“Yes.”

Fluttershy went down to feed her parrot Whiskers, but he wasn’t in his newly open cage. After an unsuccessful search of the ground floor, she went back to the bedroom.

“Fluttershy?” Scootaloo said.

“Yes?”

“You’re not Fluttershy, you’re a parrot.”

Fluttershy came up. “How did you get out of your cage?”

“Squawk....”

“Well, you need to get back in.”

“No.”

“You can’t—”

“I’ve spent my whole life in a cage. Ever since I was born in the kennels—and branded ‘pet quality’ by your typical eugenist fanciers, but that’s another subject—I’ve always been in a cage, whether it’s in a pet store or in your house. Not even one big enough to spread my wings in. Do you know how unhealthy that is? You should, considering it’s in your job description. I’m not even asking for a huge aviary, just a cage bigger than my wingspan.

“It’s not just that, though. When you got me, I more or less hated my life, and I was hoping having an actual owner would make everything change. A decent living space, not eating one food my entire life, not having to deal with the constant noise of a hundred other birds. You don’t need me to tell you none of that has changed.

“To be honest, I’m getting bored with life, but it’s not as if there’s anything I can do. You’re too observant for me to sneak out one day, and I don’t know how to live in the wild anyway. Imagine Scootaloo’s life, except she can never leave her box and there’s a pack of dogs barking at her every waking moment. Food security aside, that’s what you’ve put me through. I hate to use a stock phrase, but I can’t take it anymore, and you either improve the conditions for all of your birds or you won’t have one of them anymore.”

“I... I’ll get you a better cage. You could’ve asked at any time.”

“Oh, you know what it’s like. Nervous about if you’re being ridiculous, afraid that the other person will tell you you’re needy and you just need to accept that life isn’t always heaven. But I decided that considering how I feel about my continuing existence, I wasn’t asking for too much. You know how it feels asking for something like that, though.”

“Well, I’ll get all of the birds something better.”

“I’ll get back in my cage now.” He flew downstairs.

“So,” Scootaloo said.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’ll be back in about an hour, I’ve got something to watch.”

“Sounds good.”

After that, Fluttershy and Scootaloo slept together. When Fluttershy woke up, Scootaloo was already gone, so she went where she was mostly likely to be, in the kitchen. Scootaloo wasn’t there, but she noticed the pot was empty, filling her with guilt at not making enough food for her. “Scootaloo?” she said, but it went unanswered. Scootaloo really had run out of food and left. Or so she would think until the next time she opened the lower cupboard second from the left, but for now, she felt terrible. What kind of terrible pony underfed Scootaloo? Fluttershy did. And so she spent the rest of the day feeling guilty and looking sad and withdrawn, not that she interacted with anybody who knew her well enough to tell it apart from her shyness. Next Chapter: Chapter 56: Rainbow Dash Collects Congratulations Estimated time remaining: 13 Hours, 50 Minutes