Silver Spoon was so focused on trying to control the storm of emotions swirling around in her head that she didn't bother watching Scootaloo's conversation with the teacher. The heat of anger pounded in her temples as the sickly weight of shame and frustration sank in her chest. Scootaloo's comment was the last thing she'd needed to hear today, especially after she'd spent the entire previous night worrying herself sick about exactly what the infuriating pegasus was suggesting. It was one thing to be told she was stupid by a bully on a normal day. It was something else entirely to have that same bully tell her she was stupid the day after her best friend unintentionally said the same thing. She stared at the mostly-blank page on the desk in front of her, willing the tears burning in the corners of her eyes to dissipate. This was a skill she was well practiced in, and by the time Scootaloo turned away from Cheerilee's desk and began to walk back to her chair, face inscrutably blank, Silver Spoon had managed to regain some semblence of composure, and looked up at her partner with half-lidded eyes. "Well?"

Scootaloo didn't respond immediately, instead staring back at her with an intense, almost accusatory expression. Silver Spoon raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "Hello? Anypony home?"

"I think," Scootaloo suddenly said, her voice unusually quiet, "that I might have an idea."

"You might?" Silver Spoon scoffed. "Well at least we have a starting point. You want to let me in on this potential idea?"

The pegasus shook her head. "Not here."

"Why not?"

Scootaloo looked away, her wings pulling tight against her sides. "It's...sort of personal. And I don't want anypony else to know about it."

"Won't that make it sort of hard to, you know, turn in?"

"If we actually pull it off, it won't matter. In the meantime, I'd rather keep it kind of private, just in case we don't."

"Private?" Silver Spoon blinked, confused. "But it's okay for me to know?"

"No," Scootaloo sneered, "but you're going to have to know if you're going to help me with this stupid project, aren't you?"

Silver Spoon narrowed her eyes angrily. "Well why in the hell would I want to help you with something so 'personal' if you're just going to be a bitch the whole time?"

"I'm being a bitch?" Scootaloo snapped, leaning back and flaring her wings slightly in indignation. "You, you--!" The pegasus sputtered for a moment as if searching for an appropriately scathing comeback, but to Silver Spoon's surprise, Scootaloo ended up merely closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before glaring down at her. "Look, this isn't going to work if we're constantly at each other's throats. Can we just agree to not insult one another for the rest of this season?"

Silver Spoon eyed her skeptically. "I don't know. Can you?"

"I'm willing to try if you are."

Silver Spoon watched the pegasus, keenly aware that she was seeing something unprecedented. Scootaloo was not particularly famous for compromising. She wasn't sure the orange filly would be able to keep up her end of the truce, no matter how much she might want to. Still, if it meant there was even the slightest chance that Scootaloo would leave her alone for an entire season, Silver Spoon was willing to try anything. "Alright, then. It's a deal. A whole season's worth of civility."

"Great," Scootaloo deadpanned, her demeanor somewhat at odds with the sentiment. "Anyway, we can't talk about it here. Can you come over to my house sometime this afternoon so I can give you the rundown?"

"Your house?" Silver Spoon considered just how unpleasant an entire evening in Scootaloo's company might be, even if they had agreed to be cordial. "Just the two of us?"

"I doubt it," Scootaloo said. "My parents will probably both be there all night, which will go a long way towards making us be nice to each other." There was a hint of a sneer in her voice.

"Huh," Silver Spoon said, genuinely nonplussed. "What do your parents do, if they can both be home in the middle of the day?"

Scootaloo sat back in her chair, putting her hind hooves up on the desk in front of her and stretching her wings wide. "Well, Mama Tavi--I mean, my mother, Octavia--performs with the Canterlot Symphony Orchestra, and they only practice three days a week, with performances on weekends. Most of the rest of the time she just teaches string instruments from home. My mother Vinyl DJs by request and regularly at a couple of clubs, but all of those jobs are real late-night affairs, so she's usually home until after supper. Even then, she only really works a few days a week. She also writes and records her own music, which she sells from time to time. I can always tell when she's sold a hit, because she'll stay home for a few weeks without working at all." Scootaloo said most of this to the ceiling, leaning back with her forelegs behind her head and her hind legs crossed in front of her, utterly oblivious to Silver Spoon's rapt stare.

"So," Silver Spoon said, trying to keep her voice from sounding too awestruck, "your parents are home like, almost all the time?"

"I know, right?" Scootaloo said, rolling her eyes. "I never get the house to myself. I mean, sometimes they'll both be gone at the same time on a weekend, but that's like once a month or something. I usually invite the girls over to just hang out and listen to music or whatever on those days."

"And your parents don't mind?"

The pegasus shrugged. "Not really. They know Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom pretty well, and I have a feeling they think I'm safer when I'm hanging out with them than when I'm alone," she said dryly. "They don't exactly trust me to take care of myself."

Silver Spoon didn't say anything to this. She simply sat in Apple Bloom's chair, contemplating what it must be like to have parents who were around almost constantly.

Scootaloo ignored her, instead casting a lazy glance around the room, her ears darting back and forth as she covertly eavesdropped on the conversations happening all around them. Most of the groups were simply discussing options for their projects, setting up schedules, or for the few who were, like her and her partner, simply whiling away time until class ended, chatting amiably about whatever nonsense came to mind. One pair in particular caught her attention, though, and she swiveled both ears to tune in as intently as she could, keeping her eyes unfocused and looking in some other direction to avoid detection.

"I don't care what Miss Cheerilee says, I'm not going to waste my time trying to 'get along' with you." Sweetie Belle's normally dulcet voice was hushed and agitated.

"Oh, and you think I want to 'get along' with you?" Diamond Tiara's voice was not much happier. "I just want to get a passing grade on this stupid project so I can pass this stupid season and graduate already."

"Of all the Luna forsaken idiots in this class, why did she have to saddle me with you?"

"To punish me, I suspect."

"Please. As if you have any right to be mad about this. At least you got stuck with somepony who will actually get something done."

"And you got stuck with somepony who's actually smart enough to earn you a passing grade. I'm guessing that's why you always try to work with Scootaloo, huh? Got to have somepony to drag your ditzy ass around."

"You should talk. You know Silver Spoon's as ditzy as they come, right?"

"Hey, you leave Silver Spoon out of this." Scootaloo was moderately surprised to hear a note of genuine anger in Diamond Tiara's voice, and couldn't resist glancing out of the corner of her eye to watch the argument unfold.

Sweetie Belle grinned maliciously at the pink earth pony next to her. "Why? Are you in charge of protecting her feelings as well as doing her homework for her? Is she not smart enough to stand up for herself either?"

Diamond Tiara's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she hissed through gritted teeth. "I said leave her out of it."

"Or what?" Sweetie Belle sneered. "What're you gonna do to me if I don't leave your little fillyfriend al--"

"She's not my fillyfriend!" Diamond Tiara suddenly snapped, her shriek immediately silencing the rest of the class as everyone turned to watch the incensed earth pony jump to her hooves, pushing her chair back and immediately getting in Sweetie Belle's face, her features contorted with rage. Sweetie Belle scrambled back in surprise, falling sideways off of her seat and thumping to the floor on her back, staring wide-eyed up at Diamond Tiara.

"Diamond Tiara!" Cheerilee hissed, stomping out from behind her desk and coming to stand over the prone unicorn, glaring back at Diamond Tiara. "Control yourself! This is hardly behavior becoming of a young lady."

"But she--!"

"I don't care!" Cheerilee snapped as Sweetie Belle struggled back to her hooves. "You two are both perfectly intelligent, mature young mares, and I expect you to act like it! See me after class. Both of you!" she added, turning her sizzling gaze on Sweetie Belle, whose mouth fell open in shocked disbelief.

"But Miss Cheer--!"

"No buts!" The magenta mare stomped a hoof, shaking the floor and ending the discussion. The guilty parties sulked back to their seats, and Cheerilee marched back to her desk, fury radiating from her normally pleasant, friendly face. Once there, however, the anger seemed to dissipate, and she was soon placidly watching the rest of the class slowly restart their conversations, occasionally casting a warning glance at the now speechless Sweetie Belle and Diamond Tiara.

Scootaloo glanced at Silver Spoon, who appeared to have only heard the shouted portion of the argument, and could only guess at who the aforementioned 'fillyfriend' could be. Still, there were few suspects, and Scootaloo had a inkling stemming from the distinct tinge of pink now coloring her cheeks that Silver Spoon knew exactly who Diamond Tiara was talking about. For the second time that day, Scootaloo found herself surprised at the expression on her project partner's face. This time, it was genuine shame casting a gloomy shadow across her features, and Scootaloo was annoyed to feel a pang of sympathy for the beleaguered filly sitting next to her. She quickly shook it off. If Silver Spoon didn't want to deal with Diamond Tiara's razor-edged tongue, she shouldn't have been her friend. It was that simple. Satisfied with her position, the Pegasus pulled out a notebook and started doodling aimlessly in it, intent on minimizing her interaction with Silver Spoon until later in the evening.

"So, do you just want me to come with you now, or should I come by later, or what?"' Silver Spoon asked as they milled around in the schoolyard after class.

The pegasus mused over this for a moment. Sweetie Belle and Diamond Tiara were still inside, being scolded at length by Miss Cheerilee. Scootaloo suspected it would be some time before they were released. Apple Bloom and Pipsqueak were already gone, apparently having decided to start working on their project already as well. With no prospects for other entertainment for the rest of the day, Scootaloo sighed and said, "Yeah, you might as well come over now. No point in putting it off, I guess."

"Don't sound too excited," Silver Spoon muttered, rolling her eyes. Scootaloo started walking, setting a brisk pace up the road towards the town center. Her compatriot kept up easily enough, but as they continued trotting at speed, she remarked, "You've got a lot of stamina for a Pegasus."

Scootaloo shrugged. "Yeah, well, I had to get some kind of compensation for these stupid things not working." Se flared her wings, stretching them out to their impressive full span. "The docs say the same body makeup that keeps me from flying makes me strong, like an earth pony, and keeps me from tiring out." She scowled at one of her open wings. "I'd rather be able to fly."

"I'm sure," Silver Spoon agreed. "I think I would, too."

Scootaloo shrugged. "Well, sometimes life just shits on us for no good reason. My mom--Octavia, that is--says there's no point in being mad about what you can't change, and to just do the best with what you've got. And that's all fine and great for her, but from what I've heard, there's not a whole lot in her life she'd change if she could." The Pegasus frowned at the ground in front of her. "I don't really get along with her," she added in an unsolicited afterthought.

"Why not?" Silver Spoon heard herself asking before she could stop herself.

Scootaloo eyed her suspiciously, but answered anyway, having offered up the initial comment. "I dunno, really. We just don't see eye to eye on much. Like, I love her a lot, don't get me wrong, and she's really nice, but I just...she doesn't really get me, you know? We don't like the same music, or movies, or...well, anything really. And it's not like she doesn't try, either, we're just...different. Mama Vy and I get along a lot better, but she's also a lot less, you know, stuffy than Mama Tavi is."

"Well, she is a concert cellist, right? I guess it takes that kind of personality to be a good musician."

Scootaloo shook her head. "No, it's not even that. Mama Vy is a great musician, too, they just do different kinds of music. Even Mama Tavi admits that some of the stuff Mama Vy does is pretty amazing. I'm sure you've heard some of it, too, 'cause they play it all the time in bars and clubs and such."

Silver Spoon shook her head. "I don't go to bars or clubs."

"Really?" Scootaloo looked surprised for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Yeah, okay, I can see that. Upper crust pony like you is too 'sophisticated' for a dive like the 'Bit 'n' Bridle,' right?"

For once, Silver Spoon decided to ignore the oblique insult and answered as though it was a genuine question. "No, I've just never bothered to make the trip. I stick to the parlors and pavilions where I don't have to worry about getting beer spilled on my coat or being hit on by some drunk foal who wouldn't remember my name if it was tattooed on the inside of his eyelids."

Scootaloo chuckled at this, surprising them both. The pegasus shook it off and said, "Well maybe you should try it sometime. Fur washes, you know, and there's more to a club than just getting drunk and hooking up."

"I'll pass."

Scootaloo shrugged. "Suit yourself." She turned off the main road through town and led Silver Spoon up a narrow neighborhood corridor, walking past cozy little houses arranged in carefully spaced rows, enough to give each home some breathing room, but not enough to look like a waste of real estate. Silver Spoon was vaguely unnerved by the cramped appearance of the suburb, mentally comparing the modest plats to the sprawling estates she had grown up around. It seemed as though everyone's windows were facing the house next to them, and it was clear that anypony could walk up to any front door they wished. There was no security anywhere, no roaming guards patrolling the streets, no carriages parked in covered garages, and almost none of the houses even had a second floor. None of this was particularly surprising to her, as the young mare had always known these suburbs existed, but her social circle and personal life simply didn't bring her down out of the Heights very often, and they never brought her this far out.

Scootaloo noticed her companion's darting eyes and moderately distressed expression. "What's the matter? Too lower-class for you?" she sneered.

"No, it's not that," Silver Spoon said, shaking her head. "They're perfectly nice little houses, it's just...how do you live so close together like this? I'm getting claustrophobic just imagining trying to sleep with somepony else less than thirty hooves away."

Scootaloo looked back at the space between two of the houses and grunted noncommittally. "I dunno...I never really noticed. I mean, there are walls and stuff. It's not like we wake up and wave at each other through the window."

"You easily could."

"Well, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. It's nice to get to know the neighbors, right?"

Silver Spoon said, "We only have two neighbors, and one is Diamond Tiara. The other is out of town almost all the time."

"Sounds lonely."

"It's not lonely, it's peaceful. Quiet."

"Too quiet."

"If you think so," Silver Spoon shrugged as Scootaloo turned up the walkway towards one of the smaller one-story houses. The orange pegasus paused at the mailbox, checking the interior for possible contents. She extracted two letters with her mouth and then continued up the path. It occurred to Silver Spoon that she wasn't entirely certain where their mailbox was, or even if they had one. Her mail always appeared on her vanity between the time she left for school and when she got home in the evening. At the door, Scootaloo reared up and leaned on the handle with a hoof, and to Silver Spoon's surprise, the handle turned easily, plainly unlocked. "You...don't lock your doors?"

Scootaloo looked over her shoulder, speaking around the envelopes in her mouth. "No need. Not when somepony's home during the day." She led the way inside, followed by an increasingly bewildered Silver Spoon.

As the door swung closed behind them, Silver Spoon paused to take everything about the smallish house in. They were standing in a narrow entryway, with a low wooden table on one side, holding a daily calendar and a wicker basket into which Scootaloo deposited the two letters she had retrieved. On the opposite side was a round stand with a modest bouquet perched on it. The flowers in it were white roses and blue lilies, with a sprinkling of baby's breath to fill it out. Above the bouquet was a single picture frame with three ponies in it: a grey earth pony with a lead-colored mane, muted purple eyes, a modest, precise smile, and a carefully arranged pink bow tie; a white unicorn with a startling array of navy and sky blue hair, shocking crimson eyes, a pair of blue-tinted shades buried in her mane, and a grinning expression that couldn't possibly have conveyed anything except unabashed giddiness; and between them, the same sherbet orange, magenta-maned, coyly smirking pegasus now clopping down the hallway, crudely yelling, "Hey, mom! I'm home!"

Silver Spoon bristled slightly at the concept of shouting indoors, but she was apparently alone in her consternation, as a moment later the grey mare in the picture appeared from one of the doors further down the hallway. "Oh, you're home early, Scootaloo," she said in a taut, refined tone that reminded Silver Spoon of the way some of her father's more important contacts spoke. "And you're not alone," she added, casting an appraising glance at Silver Spoon, who blushed faintly at the realization that she had not been expected.

"Yeah," Scootaloo said, clearly unfazed. "Silver Spoon came over to work on the project for a little bit. Is that alright?"

The earth pony nodded, her gaze sliding away from the visitor and back to her daughter. "I suppose, although I would appreciate if you would ask before simply inviting somepony over. I'm not altogether fond of having unannounced visitors."

"Geez, mom," Scootaloo groaned, rolling her eyes. "She's just here for the project. She's not even really visiting. We're just gonna be in my room for a little bit."

"Even so," her mother said, shaking her head. "It's not polite. And speaking of being polite, aren't you going to introduce your friend to me?" She smiled at Silver Spoon, who tentatively returned the gesture.

Scootaloo scoffed audibly. "She's not my friend. She's just my project partner. Anyway, mom, this is Silver Spoon," she said, waving towards the bespectacled filly still standing in the entryway with a lazy hoof. "Silver Spoon, this is my mom, Octavia."

"Charmed," the grey mare said, smiling genuinely and trotting down the hallway to extend a welcoming hoof.

"L-likewise," Silver Spoon squeaked, still struggling to shrug off the social embarrassment of being unannounced. She shook the proffered hoof.

"I've heard a great deal about you, Silver Spoon," Octavia said, glancing sideways at her daughter. "I doubt highly that much of it is true, but I have also heard good things, so don't worry too much." She smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I'll let you make your own impression."

"Likewise," Silver Spoon repeated, blushing intensely at finding herself unusually speechless. Despite being generally shy around strangers, the silver filly had grown up surrounded by the trappings of high society, and as such was used to speaking with celebrities and moguls. She could converse freely with the rich and powerful elite of Ponyville, Manehattan, and even Canterlot without hesitation or fear, but it was immediately obvious that Octavia was in an entirely different league. This was a mare who simply radiated class. Her mane was smooth and shined, but was clearly unmodified in any way, hanging over one shoulder in a thick, austere sheaf. She had no makeup at all, but her face was still pleasantly attractive, as was the rest of her body, well-proportioned and properly groomed. The bow tie around her neck was prim and modest, adding a minute flair of distinction to contrast the otherwise dull hue of her grey coat and bringing out the darker purples in her irises.

Beyond her physical appearance, there was a certain air of poise and charisma about the musician that instantly and effortlessly elevated her above everypony nearby. She carried herself with dignity and confidence, but without a trace of arrogance, and the smile on her face was slight but genuine. Social standing meant nothing to Octavia, that much was obvious just from her tone of voice and stature, and as a result Silver Spoon knew she could have walked unmolested into any high-brow party or establishment in Equestria, and be an instant VIP. To Silver Spoon, who had grown up with her social position well understood and rigidly adhered to, the whole effect was thoroughly flustering.

As she reflected on this, Silver Spoon realized she had been silent for too long, and upon seeing Octavia's puzzled expression at her unsatisfactory response, she swallowed and tried again. "That is, Scootaloo told me a little about you, too."

Octavia's smile widened, revealing an even row of brilliant white teeth. "Well, don't believe everything you hear. I promise I'm not quite the cruel disciplinarian I'm sure she's told you I am."

Scootaloo rolled her eyes, but Silver Spoon said, "No, she didn't say anything like that."

"Really?" Octavia said, glancing at Scootaloo, who shrugged. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Silver Spoon. I'm sure you two have a lot to work on, so I'll get out of your mane. Scootaloo, supper is at seven so if Silver Spoon is going to stay and eat with us, please let me know before six, so I can plan accordingly."

Scootaloo laughed shortly, a harsh bark of derision. "Yeah, she won't." Silver Spoon shook her head in silent agreement.

Octavia shrugged. "Well, just in case." The grey mare trotted back down the hallway and disappeared back into the door from whence she came.

Scootaloo glanced at Silver Spoon. "Yeah, you aren't staying for supper."

"I'm not asking to," Silver Spoon said dryly.

"Good." The pegasus clopped heavily down the hallway, passing several open doorways beyond which Silver Spoon could see a cozy living room with a couch, coffee table, and lavish entertainment center, a clean, homey kitchen, and when they passed the room Octavia had returned to, she discovered it was a large square room utterly full of orchestral paraphernalia.

The silver filly actually paused at the entrance to take it all in, from the half-dozen violins and violas hanging from the opposite wall, to the three cellos of varying height perched on stands to the left, and the two darkly varnished double basses resting against the wall to the right. Under the violins was a long desk covered in various bits and parts of the instruments around the room, as well as a moderate assortment of bows, rosin blocks, and curled lengths of string. Among the melange of musical materiel were pages and pages of carefully inscribed ledger paper, some with musical passages so complex that from a distance Silver Spoon could have imagined they were simply scribbled black. In the middle of the room, standing with her back to the hallway, Octavia had a third double bass resting against her shoulder as she stood on her hind legs behind it. One hoof was curled around the neck of the instrument, and the other held a bow carefully out of the way while she painstakingly scrawled a note on the page of music on the stand in front of her.

After a moment, Octavia seemed to sense she was being watched, and glanced over her shoulder to see Silver Spoon standing in the hallway. She grinned as she set the pencil back down on the stand. "Hello again, dear. Can I help you?"

"Oh, no," Silver Spoon said quickly, "I was just...noticing your collection."

"I see," the other mare said. "And...?"

"And what?"

"Well, do you like it?"

"Oh!" Silver Spoon nodded frantically. "They're beautiful, of course."

Octavia smiled. "Thank you. Do you play?"

Silver Spoon pursed her lips. "Well...no, not really."

"Not really?" Octavia raised an eyebrow at her. "How does one 'not really' play an instrument?"

"Well, I own a cello, but I'm...I'm not very good at it." She blushed.

"I see," Octavia said. "Do you take lessons?"

"Yes, ma'am." Silver Spoon nodded. "But I'm afraid my instructor isn't very confident in my future with it."

"Nonsense," Octavia huffed, waving a hoof dismissively. "If your instructor is telling you that you can't excel at something you are willing to devote real effort to, he shouldn't be your instructor. Might I ask who you are learning from?"

Silver Spoon hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to share the name of her tutor, lest she unintentionally cause some sort of trouble by revealing to Octavia exactly who it was that was telling her she was a lost cause. Thankfully, she was spared the need to make the decision by Scootaloo's sudden reappearance at her side. "Where the hay did you go, Spoon? I've been talking to myself for like two minutes."

"I'm sorry, Scootaloo, I distracted her," Octavia said. "She was admiring my viols and I couldn't help chatting with her about them a bit." She smiled at Silver Spoon. "Go along, dear. We can talk more later, if you like."

"Come on, Spoon," Scootaloo grunted, flaring her wings in irritation as she led Silver Spoon back down the hallway to her bedroom. Once inside, Silver Spoon knew immediately that she could have deduced who the primary occupant of the room was without being led there. The bed in the middle of the room was thoroughly unmade, the dark blue blankets and yellow sheets lying in a tangled heap at the foot. One pillow was lying on the floor next to the bed, and the other was hanging half off, caught on the bedside table. There was a desk across the room with two shelves attached to the wall above it, both crammed full of books with intimidating titles like "Advanced Aeronautical Design," and "Calculus for Engineers: Theory and Application." More books were lying open on the desk, and a momentary glance inside one revealed equations and formulas so complex that Silver Spoon's head swam slightly at the sight.

Instead, she turned her gaze to the walls of the room, which were completely plastered with posters and pictures ranging from autographed promotional posters of Spitfire, Soarin, Fleetfoot, and all the rest of the Wonderbolts, to a long banner with the cutie marks of all the Wonderbolts embroidered on it, to dozens of photographs of varying age of the Crusaders, to a large-scale picture of Rainbow Dash, the Wonderbolts' newest recruit, wearing her brand new uniform and hugging a broadly grinning Scootaloo. The poster bore a long dedication scrawled down the edge that ended with Rainbow Dash's trademark six-colored signature. Silver Spoon had never seen so much stuff relating to such a narrow range of interests. Everything in the room was connected either to the Wonderbolts, to Scootaloo's friends, to Rainbow Dash, or to math and science of a level so far above Silver Spoon's level that she was momentarily suspicious that Scootaloo had just gotten a bunch of books to make the silver filly feel stupid by comparison when she saw them. She hardly needed help feeling intellectually inferior to her partner, but the books were certainly doing the trick.

Along with all the other paraphernalia posted around the room were a few puzzling items bearing the name and crest of "The Royal Academy of Canterlot for Engineering." These included a flag with the Academy's seal hanging just above Scootaloo's bed, a whole pile of brochures and pamphlets strewn across the desktop, and a small metal sculpture of three phoenixes flying in a helical pattern up from the base with a different motto engraved in the contrail behind each phoenix: "RACE for Excellence," "RACE for Innovation," "RACE for Integrity." The sculpture intrigued Silver Spoon, and she made her way over to the bedside table where it was sitting to examine it further. It was cast in three different metals, fused on the edges by slight perturbations of the ingredients that resulted in distinct streaks of color between the three phoenixes. It was extremely well-crafted, with no visible burrs or scratches, and Silver Spoon marveled at it for several seconds before Scootaloo spoke again.

"You like that?" she remarked, a definite hint of smugness in her tone. "It was a gift from the Academy, a reward for winning their 'Rising Stars' engineering competition a couple years ago. I don't know if you can tell, but it's actually made out of three different metals cast togeth--"

"Copper, nickel, and magnesium, if I had to guess," Silver Spoon interrupted, looking over her shoulder at Scootaloo with half-lidded eyes. The pegasus faltered as her mouth fell open in surprise. Silver Spoon smirked. "Prized for their versatility, durability, and lightness respectively, right?"

Scootaloo blinked, nonplussed. "I...yeah, but where did....how did you know that?" she sputtered.

Silver Spoon rolled her eyes theatrically. "Please. My father is the most accomplished metallurgist in three centuries. You think I could have grown up around that and not pick some of it up?"

"But you barely even looked at it!"

She shrugged. "So? It's not that hard to recognize a metal by its color and grain."

Scootaloo stared at her in silence for a moment. "What's your special talent again?"

"Silver working, like my father, although he's best with really large amounts and really big projects, where I'm a lot better with small stuff like jewelry, filigree, and stuff."

Scootaloo's eyes widened suddenly and a current of tentative excitement crept into her voice. "Can you work with other metals, too, or just silver?"

Silver Spoon shrugged. "Anything, really. I just like silver because it's--"

"And this small stuff you're talking about," Scootaloo interrupted her, "would it include something like, say, really precise gears and rivets and screws and such?"

Silver Spoon frowned shallowly at being cut off, but said, "Well, yeah. I mean, I could make anything out of metal if I had a design to work off of. Why?"

Scootaloo's eyes shone with glee and a broad smile crept across her mouth. "Because, Silver Spoon, Miss Cheerilee was right. I do have an idea, and you are going to love it."