Scootaloo struggled with each and every strap, but she was getting it done. Running through her head was how crazy everything was. Her life—that she'd worked hard to keep as normal as she could—had been completely flipped on its head by a single unicorn.

What was constantly confusing her, however, was how much Lyra kept insisting that she'd retain her freedom. Freedom, Scootaloo had learned, was not all it was cracked up to be. "So now we go?"

Turning to look at Scootaloo, Lyra nodded. "Yeah. Gotta find some ponies to move all our stuff, unless I really do want to move it myself. I need to think on a spell or spells to do that. Maybe I should ask while we're at the Guard."

Looking at Lyra, Scootaloo started to believe she really was a Guardpony. The armor changed her from just another mare to something more. Following her outside, she tried to work out what it was about the armor that made Lyra seem like a different pony. "Are we going to run there?"

"We could if you want. Gonna use your scooter again?" It felt a little odd to Lyra, to have someone other than Sweetie in the house with her, but it was something she knew she needed to get used to.

Why her life had become so exciting, Scootaloo might never find out, but she knew one thing for sure—she loved it. "Yeah!" Having carried the little board and handles on her back all this time, she flipped it off and fitted the handle into the board so she could ride it.

Scootaloo grabbed the offered golden bar with her forelegs as she jumped up on her scooter and held on tight as Lyra took off at a canter. The air flew past Scootaloo's face and ripped a shout of excitement from her. Riding fast was her thing, and she loved it.

Lyra's canter didn't last long before she lengthened her stride into a gallop. Unlike the ride around Ponyville, there was a lot more ponies on the street, as well as other things to get in the way. When Scootaloo thought Lyra would crash head-first into a cart, there was a loud POMF sound and a flash of golden light before they were both on the other side.

"This is amazing!" The faster they went, the more Scootaloo enjoyed it. When Lyra swung the bar closer to the drain on one side of the street, Scootaloo lifted the front of her scooter up and ground along the ridge with the back truck.

The added load of her armor and Scootaloo made a much more satisfying load for Lyra to gallop with. She couldn't stretch her legs as much as usual, but she could feel the strain with every stride. By the time she reached the gate of the E.U.P. Guard training grounds, she was working up a good sweat.

Stopping in a rush and releasing the gold bar she'd been holding for Scootaloo, Lyra snapped a salute to the Guardpony at the entrance. "I request two passes for permission to enter and goof off!"

Narrowing her eyes, Bottle Rocket returned the salute. "Private Heartstrings, you were given a life-long pass to goof off, last I heard. It's good to see you." Walking up, she offered her hoof to bump and got a good thud from Lyra. "Who's your friend?"

"A friend I'm helping with some stuff—this is Scootaloo. Scootaloo, this is Private Bottle Rocket. Is it cool if I show her around? Oh, right. I'm looking for Commander Spitfire of the Wonderbolts."

"Yeah. We have a new batch of recruits in at the moment. Shame you wore your armor or you might have gotten grabbed to teach a lesson in misjudging an enemy. Wonderbolts are over in the Lieutenant's office. They've been skimming us for some new muscle. Heard they were getting too many non-mil members." Bottle smirked at Lyra. "I was thinking of trying out for 'em."

"You should. I'm sure Scootaloo'll be a Wonderbolt some day."

Scootaloo's eyes widened. Without even realizing it she began bouncing in place in excitement. Lyra had become a force of nature in her life in just one day, and hearing those words from her mouth made Scootaloo believe them. "I will!"

"Well, let's go talk to the Wonderbolt Commander and get you set up with a spot right now." Lyra aimed herself into the training fields, but turned one last time to Bottle Rocket. "Great to see you again."

Bottle had to fight back a sigh. Lyra Heartstrings had been touted, several times, as a stand-out soldier. The fighting she'd been involved in—even as a part-timer—had left several veterans reluctant to talk about it. "Yeah, you too, Lyra."

Only when they were a little bit away from the gate did Scootaloo turn toward Lyra with narrowed eyes. "Do you know everypony in Canterlot?" She pointed back to Bottle Rocket. "How did you know her?"

"We were cadets together. It's not as bad as you think. I've just been living here for… five years now. You get to know a lot of ponies in five years." Lyra paused to snap a salute as Sergeant Bluebelle led a group of pegasi past.

"Private Heartstrings! Finally signing up full-time?" Bluebelle asked while her squad kept marching out to the platform for pegasi training.

"No, ma'am! Got you a new recruit who wants to be a Wonderbolt eventually. Where do we sign her up?" Gesturing at Scootaloo, Lyra smiled at the sergeant. "Junior Cadet Scootaloo."

Scootaloo puffed her chest out excitedly and stood a little straighter. It was silly, crazy, and she was sure it was also mad, but the constant buzz of excitement around Lyra was contagious.

"Might need a few more years yet, Cadet, but I think we'll make a Guardpony out of you." Bluebelle snapped off a salute to Scootaloo, never missing an opportunity to make a foal's day with a bit of fun.

Lyra nudged Scootaloo's shoulder with her magic. "Hear that, Scootaloo? Just a few more years. C'mon, let's go bug Commander Spitfire to see if we can get you in early."

Bluebelle raised an eyebrow. "Here to see Spitfire? Head on back that way, she was just looking over this lot."

"Thanks, sarge. Let's go." With Scootaloo at her side, Lyra headed back toward the classroom Bluebelle and her squad had just left. Just as she reached the front door, she froze and snapped to attention.

"… just saying you can take your pick of the recruits." Lieutenant Stiff Peaks noticed Private Lyra Heartstrings and his small smile broke into a larger one before he sketched a practiced salute back to her. "Commander Spitfire, this is—"

"Lyra Heartstrings. Did you get anywhere with… Sweetie Drops, was it?" Spitfire had a mind like a steel trap, and the names of the two ponies that a princess roped her into performing for was etched in her memory. She highly approved of seeing at least one of them wearing the armor of the Guard.

"Sweetie Drops and I got married." Surprised that Spitfire had remembered her name, Lyra couldn't help but feel happiness rise at being reminded of Sweetie. It was just something that would never stop being awesome to her. "She's out making a name for herself in the Monster Hunters, ma'am."

"Both of you in the guard? I don't suppose you've tried sprouting wings? I could use a flier with a brain and some guts." Glaring at Stiff Peaks, Spitfire rolled her eyes at the stallion. "All I'm getting offered here are green fillies and colts who wouldn't know a storm cloud if I dropped it on them."

"Pfft." Lyra snorted, "ponies like us don't become princesses, commander, but there was a pegasus I promised to put in a good word for, who really wants to join the Wonderbolts." As Lyra spoke, she watched Spitfire's eyebrow (singular) raise.

"I'm listening."

"Weatherpony in Ponyville. Rainbow Dash is her name. Slick flier, but looked like she needs some shaping up to fit in with the military. She can sure run." The last bit made Lyra grin—anypony who'd been through the E.U.P. Guard training would know all about running. "Though she lacks stamina."

Spitfire tapped her chin. "Everypony lacks stamina before basic. I'll tell you what, tell her we'll keep an eye out for her, and get her to work on her stamina. We swing past there every year or so, I'll have somepony get the locals to put on a show for us. I'll be honest, we need new blood, but I'd prefer it already broken-in, if you catch my meaning?"

"We actually have a deal where she'll be running with me each day. If nothing else, I'll have her at least above average for you." Lyra was glad for having the situation under control.

"You're moving out of the city?" Stiff Peaks asked, rejoining the conversation.

"Just to Ponyville. Not even an hour by train, shorter if I'm in a hurry. If you need me, lieutenant, just send word." Snapping a salute, Lyra gestured in the rough direction of the town. "We just wanted somewhere that would give our parents some breathing room, and somewhere to make ours."

Nodding to Lyra's reply, Stiff Peaks could fully understand where she was coming from. "I hope we don't need to call on you again, but will you be keeping up your training?"

"Excuse me, Lieutenant, but I should be leading my squad back to Wonderbolt HQ," Spitfire said. "Private."

Lyra stiffened and saluted Spitfire, getting one in return before she turned and walked off. "Like I said, running when I can, and you better believe I'm not relaxing on my spells. When's the next reserves assessment?"

"Four weeks." It was then that Stiff Peaks took a little more interest in Lyra's companion. Looking over the filly, he could easily assess that she wasn't Lyra's, but Scootaloo was smaller than most parents would let out of their sight for a day. "Training up next generation's Guardponies?"

Jerking at the realization she hadn't introduced Scootaloo to her companions. "Lieutenant Stiff Peaks, this is Scootaloo. Our story's a little complicated, sir, but I can assure you it's well in hoof."

Stiff had been fishing for the full story, but he could accept that it might not be the best time for it. Four weeks wasn't long to wait. "I trust it is. Is there anything the E.U.P. Guard can do for you, Miss Scootaloo?"

"I—err—Could I really be a Wonderbolt when I grow up?" Scootaloo was about as overwhelmed as ever, which had become her default state over the last day, though she was getting better at dealing with it.

"If you work hard and practice with your wings and legs every day, I don't think there's anything that could stop you." It wasn't a canned recruitment line, but Stiff felt it would stack up with their best. "Are you stuck with Private Lyra looking after you?"

It was a stab in the dark for Stiff Peaks, but it was all he could think of under the circumstances. When Scootaloo nodded, he made an appreciative noise. "Well, we won't hold that against you. I'm sure you have a smart head on your shoulders, make sure to learn how to use that, too, and listen to about… half of what Lyra tells you."

That's when it clicked to Scootaloo. The two ponies Lyra had been talking to were her bosses. "Yes, sir!"

Lyra couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. It hadn't been refined by days of being forced to shout it, but Scootaloo's acknowledgment would stand up well for a first-day recruit. "Sir, it was just a little SNAFU, we're sorting it out today so I can get this little hurricane back into school tomorrow. She'd been toughing it out alone, and I happened to pick the house she lived in as the one I wanted to move into. Now she's my landlord."

Taking a deep breath for effect, Stiff nodded. "I smell the work of a princess in that resolution. Good luck, private,"—he turned to Scootaloo and saluted—"and good luck to you too, Junior Cadet Scootaloo!"

After spending months trying to hide and keeping out of focus of everypony around her (even her friends to an extent), Scootaloo felt a wash of relief and excitement at being able to be herself again. She stood as straight as she could and saluted back. "Yes, sir!"

Seeing a chance to have some fun, and never being able to resist such, Lyra said, "I didn't hear you, cadet! Try again!"

"Yes, sir!" Shouting so much she screwed her face up in the process, Scootaloo nearly shook with the effort to get the words out—and not a small amount of excitement, too.

"Much better." Lieutenant Stiff Peaks looked at Private Lyra with a some interest, but filed the thought away for later use. "I'll see you, Private Heartstrings, at your tests." He turned and walked away from the pair, thoughts turning back to how to ensure every detachment of the E.U.P. Guard could get their share of recruits without leaving the core of the military short-hooved.

"Well, that's that done. Let's get your bits settled, then we can do some shopping. Come on." Lyra turned for the entrance and started walking.

Moving to keep up, Scootaloo found herself practically strutting. She felt better than she had in a while, and it was all because she realized she could be herself. "Thank you."

Raising an eyebrow, Lyra turned her head to look at Scootaloo. Given the latest jaunt had been for Rainbow Dash's benefit, she was somewhat surprised at the thanks. "Oh?"

"I thought I was doing okay. I thought I had things under control." It was a hard lesson for a little filly to learn. Scootaloo gulped down her pride and buzzed her wings a few times. "So, thanks."

"Want to know a secret?"

The question startled Scootaloo. She'd been expecting a you're welcome or something silly. This had her intrigued. "Sure."

"I'm on the edge of freaking out. Two days ago I was heading to a new town to look for a house for me and my wife to move into. I was thinking about how I'd have a nice little place with all these cool things to show her and let her fall in love with it as much as me." Reaching out with her magic, Lyra ruffled Scootaloo's mane just enough to make her try to pat it back into place. "Now? I've got all that and someone to look after. I need to get you home for school tomorrow. I need to make sure your finances are in order. I need to help you register the house as yours. I need to start paying you rent."

Fixing her mane up, Scootaloo looked at Lyra with a little surprise. "You're not supposed to tell me all this. You're supposed to be an adult and tell me, 'Everything will be okay.' That kind of thing."

"Well, I have to tell somepony, and you're the only pony I know who'll listen right now. It's freaking me out… and I'm on top of it. I've gotten you the house in your name. The registration and paperwork is somepony else's problem now we have this letter from Princess Celestia. We can go and buy some cool stuff and arrange it to be delivered. If all else fails, I can literally magic us to Ponyville—and might do it anyway to show you how I like to fly—and it's working. I'm actually adulting and it's working."

"That freaks you out more?"

"Yes! Everything I've ever done has been following or being asked by somepony. Well, not everything, but all the big things. Sweetie asked me to marry her, Princess Celestia invited me to come to Equestria, even becoming a pony was something I didn't even try to do on my own. This? You? I just—"

"That's why I was saying thanks! I couldn't deal with it. I mean, I could, but it wasn't fun and I just realized that." Scootaloo just smiled at Lyra. "But that's all up to you now."

"Gee, thanks!" A laugh bubbled up in Lyra. It wasn't hysterical laughter, or even panicked laughter—she just enjoyed having her own sense of humor used back on her.

Breaking into a run, the pair took off for the Canterlot Financial Reserve—the main branch of the department that served as Equestria's sole bank and bursar. With the letter from Celestia, that was no issue at all, and neither was transferring the house into Scootaloo's name.

Shopping for an oven, fridge, bed, and other items had been a little more complicated, with styles and features being big on not just Lyra's mind. In the end, however, the various large goods had been promised to be delivered, and the pair were leaving the last store when Lyra remembered the other thing she'd planned to do.

"Still plenty of time until we need to get home. Let's go see my dad. I want to find out what you think of each other." Pointing with a hoof toward her parents home, Lyra started walking down the nearest street that would lead to there.

Scootaloo—riding on her scooter—kept pace easily at Lyra's side. "Your dad is like your mom, isn't he?"

"He looks like her, if that's what you're asking." Doing her best to ignore Scootaloo's raised eyebrow, Lyra kept up a brisk trot.

By now Scootaloo had learned when Lyra was trying to be cagey about something, and all her experiences over the day had taught her that there was no use trying to prize extra information from her. This was a gag and not something dangerous, or so she'd also found. "What about a guessing game? Give me three guesses and if I get anything, you have to tell me."

Tilting her head to the side a little out of instinct, Lyra found herself grinning at the addition to the little game she'd been playing with Scootaloo. For one thing, it promoted thinking. "Alright, but if you get them all wrong, I canter there and you have to keep up."

"Deal!" Scootaloo could keep up with a canter, or so she hoped. "Is he some kind of bat alicorn?"

"You mean with a horn?"

"Yes!"

"No. There is only one bat alicorn I know of, and they are princess of Thestralia." The answer was appeasing to Lyra's fairness and humor. "Two more."

Scootaloo had to think now. With two guesses left, and not a lot to go on, she wanted to make them count. "Okay. You wouldn't do this if there wasn't something strange about him." Then something hit Scootaloo, something that had started hitting close to home. "He's not your birth-dad?"

"That's a good one. You're right, he didn't have a hoof in my birth, but he—" Lyra snapped her mouth closed before she gave away a secret. "One more."

"He didn't what? Did he have something to do with you turning into a pony?"

Regretting the game, but not at the same time, Lyra let out a defeated sigh. "You win. You got two correct."

Kicking her scooter into a mid-air twist, Scootaloo came down again beside Lyra. "What do I get, then?"

"A gallop, but you get to hold on." Lyra made the gold bar again, and the moment Scootaloo had hold of it she took off at a gallop toward her parents home.

Ducking a little lower on her scooter, Scootaloo shouted with excitement as Lyra poured on the speed. One thing she hadn't been able to get over was how Lyra could, without fail, always wind up into a gallop. She wondered if there was some kind of magic involved. "Lyra?!"

Slowing to a canter, Lyra raised her nearest eyebrow at Scootaloo. "What's up?"

"Do you use magic to let you keep running so much?"

"Nope! Just lots of work and practice. There are spells that would let an out-of-shape unicorn run for a long time, but they'd be risking getting hurt after it. That kind of magic is only for earth ponies to use."

"Earth ponies have magic?!" The concept took Scootaloo aback. "Apple Bloom never told me anything about earth pony magic!"

"Lessons on magic will have to wait until we're home." Slowing all the way to a walk, Lyra waited for Scootaloo to slow down too before she vanished the rod. "We're here."

"This is the edge. L-Like the very edge. I guess since they have wings, they don't mind the edge as much as unicorns and earth ponies."

Lyra reached a "You know I won't let you fall, right? Even if something happened, I can zoom us back up here with a teleport."

"Yeah, but…" Scootaloo just sighed. "You wouldn't understand."

It took every ounce of Lyra's self-control to not yell really at Scootaloo. "Try me. Put it in the best words you can."

"Foals my age should be starting to fly. Listening to your friends at the Guard earlier, they expected me to be able to fly." It was hard to admit, but Scootaloo had felt more open with the crazy unicorn at her side than with anypony else in her life. "What if I can't fly?"

The question was a harsh one, and though Lyra wanted to laugh it away, she knew that wasn't right. "Forgive me for asking, but are pegasi not able to fly often? Is this a thing that happens?"

"Dunno."

"Then we have something to research. If this is a thing that can happen, you'll hardly be the first." Stopping at the front door to her parents' home, Lyra waited for Scootaloo to join her.

"And what if it is, and what if I'm not?"

"Then we find out what happened to those others."

"And what if it is, and what if I am?"

Lyra manifested her magic an used a fist to knock on the door. "Then we work out how to fix it or work around it. Scootaloo, I'm a unicorn. Unicorns don't have wings at all, but I can fly."

Reaching up with a hoof to rub at tears that had managed to appear in the corners of her eyes despite her best effort, Scootaloo straightened as the sound of hooves within came closer.

Opening the door, Tufts' curiosity turned to excitement when he spotted Lyra. With a screech of glee, he pounced forward to wrap Lyra up in a hug with both wings. "My little grape has returned!"

"Daaad!" Lyra knew better than to struggle too much—struggling just meant more excited bat hugs. "You've got company."

A pang of loss hit Scootaloo at the sight of Tufts embracing Lyra. Her own father being gone was a wound that would keep opening.

Tufts froze at the somber little filly beside Lyra. "Who is this that is so unhappy to be here? Lyra, did you kidnap a foal? You shouldn't do that unless you think you can get away with it, you know. Do you need help getting away? I know a pony who can—"

By this point Scootaloo had realized that Lyra's father was quite possibly a little more silly than she was. It was enough to make her father's absence harder to focus on—which immediately made the bat pony better in Scootaloo's eyes.

"Dad! I didn't foalnap her. Okay, maybe a little, but I got Princess Celestia to say it's okay. Can we come inside?" Doing her best to divest herself of bat wings, Lyra made room for Scootaloo to get past.

"Of course! Let me get you something to eat. Have you had lunch?" Tufts spun on a dime and pranced back into his home—making a beeline for the kitchen. "Fruit salad okay?"

"You know it is, Dad." Lyra walked in behind Scootaloo, and paid attention to how the filly was looking around at everything. "Bet you don't know what those are for." She pointed with a hoof at one of the perches—heavily supported beams at almost the height of the ceiling.

"They look like places to hang clothes." The place both looked and smelled slightly different to every other house Scootaloo had ever been in. Apart from the perches (that she wasn't really sure the use for), there was strange little items that confused her. Walking over to one, she lifted a hoof to prod at it carefully. "What's this?"

"That's a didgeridoo. Don't ask me where Mum got it, but she felt she really needed to bring it with her." Lyra used her magic to pick up the instrument and brought it close to her lips. "I played one in school once, so I kinda know how to get it going, but I suck at the breathing you need to do to get a full sound out of it."

Pressing the didgeridoo to her lips, Lyra let loose with her best attempt—which lasted about ten seconds.

Tufts, who had heard quite literally the song of his people, turned and poked his head into the living room. "You never said you could play."

"I can't. The breathing—"

"Is a skill you can learn. You have an ear for music, and that cannot be learned. Pass it here and I'll show you." Holding out one wing, Tufts took the instrument from Lyra's magic. "You have the basics, not letting air escape, working your lips right, but the breathing takes practice."

Lyra was all ears when it came to learning about instruments. She watched Tufts bring the didgeridoo to his lips and the familiar drone returned, but rather than stopping after just a few seconds, Tufts continued and started varying the tone of the instrument.

The tune was a simple one, but with two different notes coming from the instrument Tufts could weave a melody over the base drone. After a few minutes of playing, he stopped and let the sound die out. "You treat your mouth like a bellows. Seal the back of your mouth with your tongue when you inhale, then tighten your nasal muscles when you exhale."

The revelation surprised Lyra, but it was something she was a little more familiar with. "Like a bagpipe?"

"What's a bagpipe?" Tufts asked.

"Same sort of note, but much higher. Uses a bag you squeeze and blow air into."

"So the bag is like your mouth? That would fit. This is a little more tricky." Tufts passed the didgeridoo back to Lyra. "If you'd like, I could make you one to practice with."

Lyra almost had the didgeridoo to her lips, but paused. "Could you make two? One about this size, and one a bit smaller."

The undertone of what Lyra was asking didn't evade Tufts. "I will do this on one condition—you will both come with me to select the tree I'll use."

"What do you think, Scootaloo?" Lyra asked.

Scootaloo had been just observing so far, but now she felt the need to be honest. "We're going to find trees? We can do that anywhere."

"Not these trees." Tufts turned the didgeridoo around in his wing-claws. "This is the wood of a eucalyptus tree—a hardwood—and it was hollowed out by termites." Sniffing at the instrument, Tufts huffed out through his nose. "It was tuned afterwards on some sort of machine. I can do better than that."

"A eucl-whatnis?"

"Where are you going to get all that, Dad?" The word dad still felt new to Lyra, but the more she said it the more she liked saying it. Tufts felt like he deserved the title.

"A Dream. Tonight. You'll both have to stay here so I can more easily pull you in." Tufts turned his face a little sour and glared at Lyra. "You are really annoying to grab out of your dreams, did you know that? Last time your mother tried, she got a headache for half a day."

"Really? I just figured no one was trying to reach me. You and Dream Thunder are the only ones who've ever gotten me into a special Dream." Lyra did think about the issue. "Could it have something to do with my training at the Guard? We didn't really—"

Tufts waved a wing at Lyra. "Nothing to do with that. You just have a strange mind."

"You can say that again," Scootaloo said.

Letting loose a shriek of batty laughter, Tufts poked Lyra with one wing-claw. "You have a strange mind. So, what's the real reason for this foalnapping?"

Lyra looked down to Scootaloo. "That's your call. Will you be fine with me telling him?"

The question surprised both Scootaloo and Tufts, though it was the former that nodded. "Yeah," Scootaloo said, "you can tell him."

"After I get you something to eat. Take a seat and I'll be back with some fruit." Walking back to the kitchen, Tufts quickly sliced up some mango cheeks, bananas, a few apples, and poured three glasses of non-alcoholic cider before he walked back out carrying the (to him) feast. "Here you are." Passing Lyra the tray, Tufts took one of the glasses and walked toward the nearest perch.

Scootaloo gasped in surprise when Tufts did a backwards flip and hung himself from the perch—upside down—by his tail. "What are you doing?!"

"That," Lyra said, "is a bat pony thing."

"Huh? Oh! The wings!" Scootaloo looked at Tufts in time for him to stretch one of his wings out to its full extension. Her eyes widened at the display and she completely forgot what she'd been talking about.

"It's a bit more than just wings. Mum and Dad have the full batty compliment—fangs, a love of all things fruit—"

Tufts interrupted with an angry screech. "But not oranges!"

"—all things fruit except oranges and other citrusy things." Plucking up some banana with her magic, Lyra took a nibble of one piece. "Can't say I'm upset about it either. You should see Robin, chopping up fruit is her special talent."

"A filly after my own heart. I'm so proud of her!" Spearing a mango cheek with his wing-claw, Tufts settled back a little and bit off some pieces of the beloved fruit with careful, dainty bites. "What happened?"

Scootaloo almost let Lyra tell her story again, but she was in the most comfortable mood she'd had for almost a year, and she felt it was time she needed to say the words herself. "I found out a-about ten months ago that Mom and Dad were—weren't coming back." When a foreleg reached over her shoulder and pulled her to a warmer spot on the couch, Scootaloo didn't fight it. "Everypony in town helped take care of me while they were away, but when I found out they weren't—

"I didn't believe it, not really. Then Aunt Lofty and Aunt Holiday came and said they needed to pack up our things, and then it got really busy while they had some ponies help. I moved my stuff between rooms, over and over, and told everypony a different thing so they wouldn't notice."

A deep pain hit Tufts as he listened to the story. He regretted asking for her story now, but he wouldn't tell her to stop unless she wanted to—and she looked determined to continue. The more he heard, the more he appreciated Lyra's judgment.

Continuing, Scootaloo was relieved she was past the hard bit. "I-I kinda got a job. A few. I washed dishes at a few places after school. They gave me a few bits and let me have leftovers. I saved the bits and tried to only eat half the food so I didn't have to work every night.

"The only downside, I thought, was I couldn't go on any school trips. I missed two this year that I needed permission notes for. But I wasn't just missing that. I—Life wasn't as fun. Lyra's like a whirlwind. She was just there last night, and again today, and she keeps dragging me along to see her friends. Friends like Princess Celestia, Princess Cadance, Commander Spitfire, and now I find out she can play music and stuff too? And she's going to be taking care of me?

"And don't think"—Scootaloo cut in before Lyra could gainsay her—"for a second that I buy all that 'We're just going to be best buds,' stuff. I wasn't born yesterday." Glaring up at Lyra, Scootaloo realized she was being hugged and fought not to pull away. "I hate being alone!"

"You aren't alone," Lyra said. "Sweetie might be off on work most of the time, but you can always come and talk to me."

Tufts hid his smile behind the skin of the mango cheek he was eating. One of his laments for his eldest daughter had been that she'd married another mare—he'd pondered ways to solve the problem for them, and apart from magic this had so far been the best.

Scootaloo leaned her head against Lyra's shoulder. Unlike the soft fur she'd expected, her head met Lyra's armored and solid self. In a way she preferred that it was nothing like her mother in every way. "Thanks."

"So, we're moving in with Scootaloo as our landlord. We pay her rent for the house, and while she'll have to pay tax on that, she'll still have more bits than working as a pot-washer would have earned her." Grabbing a mango cheek for herself, Lyra started on the soft, sweet flesh within.

Grabbing her own piece of mango, Scootaloo sniffed at the fruit curiously. "That means I'm the boss. What is this?"

Tufts let out an explosive and melodramatic gasp. "Eat it! Eat it now!" Gesturing emphatically at Scootaloo, his face read absolute shock. "Lyra! How could you let this filly go all day without having mango?!"

"But—But I didn't know! Oh, sweet Celestia, I didn't know!" Lyra, despite wearing body armor, managed to fling herself off the couch without harming Scootaloo and assumed a prostrate form on the floor—forehooves raise. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Dropping from his perch, Tufts shrouded Lyra with one of his wings. "Shush, Daughter, you have already done this filly great harm by your ignorance. Quickly, taste the mango and know paradise."

Scootaloo, currently experiencing a case of the giggles, lifted the cheek of mango to her mouth and sucked a few of the cut squares of fruit from it. Her eyes dilated a little at the sweet, vibrant taste that danced across her tongue. "This is really tasty!"

As Scootaloo continued eating her mango, Lyra managed to shoulder her way out from behind Tufts' wing. "C-Can you forgive me?"

"If you let me have the last piece," Scootaloo said as she finished scraping the last of the mango flesh from the inside of the skin.

Tufts broke into a screech of laughter and used his wing-claw to hook the remaining mango cheek and pass it to Scootaloo. "You'll fit in just fine, though in future you might have a fight on your hooves if you want to keep getting that last piece."

Telling her story herself had lightened Scootaloo. A warmth seemed wrapped around her that the memory of her parents didn't detract from—if anything it felt better because she could think about them without so much sorrow. Lyra's silliness knew no bounds, and along with her father the pair made it hard for Scootaloo to stop giggling—despite stuffing her mouth with fruit.

By the time Joyce arrived home, she found the three sitting around (or hanging in Tufts' case) and chatting about flying. "Hello, dear—" Any more of Joyce's words were stolen by a pouncing bat pony who attacked her with his usual Welcome Home Hug-Kiss.

"Ignore them for a bit," Lyra said to Scootaloo. "I hope you like more fruit, because that's all they're going to have for us. We could head back to my place, but I want to see what Dad has planned for tonight."

Scootaloo looked away from Joyce and Tufts' open display of affection and focused on Lyra. "What did he mean by dreams? I didn't get all that."

"Remember how you asked if he was an alicorn?" As soon as Lyra asked it, Scootaloo's head snapped around to look at Tufts again as if she expected him to sprout a horn. "He's not, but bat ponies have their own kind of magic. It has to do with dreams.

"Normally, our dreams are all their own little shell of… dream. Dad and Mom, and some other bat ponies, can pull your dream into theirs, or even pull themselves into your dream. Things in those dreams are more real, and Dad's the only bat pony I've ever seen able to pull things out of the dream into the real world."

"The dream," Tufts said, "is the real world, or part of it. Dream Thunder can do this too."

Tufts: what is your favorite mango

Screeching excitedly, Tufts gave both his wings a quick flap. "I would normally say all of them, but there's this one I've become especially fond of. So much so I married her."

So I do this "Ask X" thing. X can be any pony within the story. You can ask them anything and they will definitely, hopefully reply. Keep the questions appropriate to the age-rating of the stories, and they will answer the best question in the author notes of the next chapter. The more votes a comment has the more likely I will get it to the right pony to answer. Try to keep it to one question per post! They will pick one question per chapter.

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