Scootaloo woke to loud clanging noises behind her. She blinked her eyes open—the light wasn't so harsh now that she was more used to it—and, with a yawn, flipped over on the bunk so that she faced the bars.

And, coincidentally, the bars were exactly what were making the metal rattling noise. More specifically, there was a pony there, outside them, in the hallway. A grey-coated stallion with a sheer black shirt stood there with several keys in his magical grasp, clinking together as he shifted them around for the right one. Finally, he jammed one in the keyhole, turned it, and pushed it open with a foreleg.

"I'm going to need you to come with me, Miss," he said in a flat, unemotional tone. "You've been called to meet with somepony."

Scootaloo immediately got up off the bunk and climbed down to the ground. She didn't want to mess with this pony; even though he had no visible weapons, Scootaloo still felt uneasy around the prison guard. Once she was next to him, he turned tail and marched out of the room, continuing down the hall in an even pace. Scootaloo promptly followed him closely behind, too terrified to do anything else. As she passed Grey's cell, she turned her head to take a closer look; with some difficulty, she was able to spot a shadowy form in the back, but there was nothing she could see clearly.

They passed out of the high-ceilinged hall into a small hallway that felt more like a tunnel, with how Scootaloo had to be careful not to brush against the sides. Even the ceiling felt low to her, and that was saying something since she was still pretty small. They passed several featureless wooden doors on both sides of the hall—more and more of them as they entered further inward. Or outward. Scootaloo couldn't really tell.