“Here little birdy birdy! Come on! Come to Scootaloo,” Scootaloo said.

She smacked her lips and made noises with her mouth to entice the bird to come closer. The bird just stared, unimpressed.

“Um, Scoots,” Fluttershy giggled, “Maybe you should let me try ... Good day, mister bird. We’re just here on a visit and happened to come across this path after we went through the big meadow.”

Fluttershy now had the bird’s attention.

“I see you have found some nice twigs,” Fluttershy continued, “do you happen to live closeby?”

The bird ruffled his feathers and trilled something, then he ran off.

“What did he say?” Scootaloo said.

“Um, you don’t want to know,” Fluttershy said.

“Quick, after him!” Scootaloo said.

Scootaloo thrashed against the seat belt as she tried to chase after the runaway. Fluttershy finally managed to get the restraints undone, but Scootaloo had already wiggled out of her hooves and shot off into the underbrush. It was unlikely that she would get lost, and it was unlikely that she would get the jump on that bird since her crinkling waddle drowned out the sounds of the forest, so Fluttershy took her time and followed her little filly on a path more suitable for the stroller.

Like lightning, Scootaloo zipped through the vegetation. The bird’s violet feathers glinted behind a root, but when Scootaloo arrived, he had just ducked beyond some dense leaves. On the other side of a bush, the tiny bird hopped over a stretch of grass, but Scootaloo’s sprint was only fast enough to see him crest a pile of dirt. Scootaloo followed him as he mounted a lone tree. The bird couldn’t quite fly with his stubby wings, but he hopped and fluttered along the trunk until he was halfway up. Then he vanished.

He didn’t jump or hide, but he vanished. From one moment to the other, the bird wasn’t there anymore.

“Huh?” Scootaloo said, craning her head, “What? But how? How’s it possible? Where are you, little bird? I just saw you running up that tree. You can’t just vanish into thin air.”

Somepony giggled, but it wasn’t Fluttershy. On the far side of the tree, another pony stood. She wore a lab coat, probably stark white underneath layers of dirt and earth, carrying similarly stained pens and clipboards.

“You’ll have to come over here to figure that one out, little filly,” the mare said.

Scootaloo walked, but the tree bark remained in place, allowing her a peek behind the scenes.

“Whoa,” Scootaloo said, “there he is!”

“Yup,” lab mare said, “his friend there is the Rainbow Jay. And you’ve been victim to its most powerful defensive capability.”

The tree bark hadn’t been a tree bark, but the long, elegant feathers of a second bird, mesmerizingly swimming with colors to mimic the shape and texture of tree bark. The feathers dripped back into many colorful hues as the bird realized its illusion had been blown.

“The little one’s right behind the big one,” Scootaloo said.

“Yes,” lab mare explained, “the little one’s of the family of the common runners. He’s allowed to seek shelter behind the Rainbow Jay’s camouflaging plumage because he brought some straw for their nests. The runner would be quite defenseless on its own, and the big one wouldn’t be fast enough to get the needed materials alone.”

“So they’re, like, living together?” Scootaloo said, “Because they can help each other, even though they are different birds?”

“That’s exactly right,” lab mare said, “this kind of thing happens all throughout nature, living beings dwelling together and covering each other’s weaknesses. Do you wanna know how they call it when that happens?”

“How do they call it?” Scootaloo said, eyes huge.

“It’s called symbiosis,” lab mare said, “these birds are such a perfect match, you wouldn’t be able to tell they’re from different parts of Equestria. The Rainbow Jay is from far north, where almost all animals have some form of magic, but the little runner can’t do any magic whatsoever. But, hey, they’re making it work.”

“That’s a fascinating story,” Fluttershy said.

“You think that’s cool?” lab pony said, “You should head back to the station and see for yourself.”

“The station?” Fluttershy said.

“Yep, local ecology research station and aviary,” lab pony said, “They should be preparing for a tour right now. We’re the ones responsible for the entirety of Field One, the largest of the Fields, so you know it’ll be interesting.”

Scootaloo bounced beside Fluttershy as they followed the mare’s directions, marvelling at the pretty vegetation. Most arrangements were composed a bit too perfectly to be natural, but the terrain sported a healthy mix of trees and plants of varying specializations, from plains over swamp, forest, highlands, glades to prairie biomes. None of them contained anything too exotic, but they were pretty nonetheless.

At the heart of it all, stood a large building, not dissimilar to the modern office buildings in the city, but surrounded by countless auxiliary stables and greenhouses. Some ponies wore lab coats or carried farming equipment, but most of the crowd were obviously tourists, streaming into the station with their funny hats and clothes and gawking fillies and colts.

The inside was surprisingly clean, somepony had to be on constant cleaning duty against all the mud being dragged in by the staff. It was a large showroom exhibiting various objects of historical significance in glass cabinets, except that birds were entering and exiting through the door as well, apparently undisturbed by the visitors, their nests in homely little alcoves in the ceiling.

“Okay, everypony, who’s here for the tour?” a mare in the only clean white lab coat said.

The respondent cheers came most loudly from the youngest ponies in the audience. Scootaloo only realized after the fact that she had been yelling as well.

“That’s great!” the guide said, “We’ll just need to wait a little more until we begin. We have prepared some apples and apple juice for you in the meantime. They’re grown and harvested locally, so why don’t you try them out? And the bathrooms are over there, please try to go before the tour.”

Great, that’s one thing crossed off the list. Scootaloo didn’t need to go to any bathrooms before any tours. And Scootaloo wasn’t the only foal there. There was at least one other infant, being carried by her family, who had her hindquarters obviously in thick diapers, like Scootaloo’s. Most of the visiting ponies went to wash their hooves, but Scootaloo and the baby got to hang back and chill.

The refreshment table was too small to service the entire crowd, so somepony made it her mission to dispense the drinks by hoof in order to expedite the process. The line moved quickly thanks to her efforts, which was good, because the baby was in front of Scootaloo and seemed rather thirsty.

“And one cup of apple juice for the foal,” the mare said, “here you go. Don’t knock it out of your daddy’s hooves while he’s trying to feed you. Oh, and who do we have here? Another little filly. Are you old enough to drink out of a cup by yourself yet?”

“Uh,” Scootaloo said, “Yeah, why?”

“Are you sure?” the mare said, “Aren’t you forgetting something in particular?”

“Umm,” Scootaloo said. What was she forgetting? She had to think really hard. Better calm herself down. Nuk, nuk, nuk. Oh. Yeah. Right. Scootaloo took the pacifier out of her mouth and placed it aside as she received her cup of juice.

“There. Much easier to drink this way, isn’t it?” the mare said.

The juice was decent. Naturally, it paled in comparison to the untouchable Apple Family apple juice, but it was pleasantly sweet, and the characteristic sour pang of freshness really hit the spot. Scootaloo drank it down in one go.

“Thanks,” Scootaloo said.

“You’re welcome, cutie,” the mare said, “now go have some fun, will you.”

Yummy! The pleasant rubbery dessert of the pacifier tasted all the much better with a tummy full of fresh juice. Scootaloo waved goodbye to the juice pony and comfortably waddled back to Fluttershy, who was in the process of observing an exhibit in a little glass case.

“Ooh, shiny,” Scootaloo said, “What’s that?”

“Some kind of tool for analyzing chemicals,” Fluttershy said, “it says, enchanted lattice nucleotide sieve, a regular grid of arcane attractors attuned to individual chromosome transcriptors, used to gene sequence the first fungus indigenous to Skyview.”

The miniscule mesh hung in its stand rather plainly, but the way it twinkled in various colors witnessed the fact that the material was woven with varying enchantments.

“Cool,” Scootaloo said, “so there are plants which are only in Skyview and nowhere else?”

“Apparently yes,” Fluttershy said, “that’s quite a feat. Regular plants and animals don’t usually live in the clouds because there’s nothing to eat. They must have gone through a long process of cultivation to make something like this happen. Come, let’s look at the next one.”

The next exhibit looked a bit more otherworldly than the scientific tool. It was a rock, or, more like, a mineral, dull cyan extensions growing out in a direction like a little blue tentacle monster. It didn’t do much, but it was perceivably magical.

“The first magically reactive calcite formed upon enchanted rock into a cloud and recovered in one piece,” Scootaloo read, “Wow, this thing must be ages old. Minerals in a cloud? How silly is that?”

“Well, natural processes do tend to sway a bit into the ... extreme when magic’s involved,” Fluttershy said, “Although the color is kind of reminiscent of the sky, isn’t it? That’s fitting at least.”

The next item was on extravagant display, a blade fixated within a metal grill. It was like a set of sheep’s shears, except quite a bit larger.

“Now would you look at that,” Fluttershy said, “the dragon shears with which legendary Ogden the Travelled harvested the wool of the mythical sky dragon, whence she made clothes to retrieve Skyview’s first core clouds from the Frozen Fangs. Ooh, isn’t that exciting, Scootaloo? Look, they even have a poster detailing Ogden’s story.”

Fluttershy was completely engulfed in the wall of text beside the display case. As it turned out, Ogden appears multiple times in the ancient history of Skyview, before her daredevil trip into the rich wastes. Furthermore, she facilitated the city’s founding by playing the role of a messenger and an explorer for the ruling families that first began to lay claims on the skies.

It wasn’t like Scootaloo wasn’t interested in the story, in fact it was quite engaging. But she found herself a bit distracted. The other ponies had finished up with their bathroom breaks by now, and now it dawned on Scootaloo that they’d had the right idea. With all the fresh apple juice and everything else, her belly was beginning to feel kind of stuffed.

And that stuffing needed some relief. Sure, foals didn’t have to use any bathrooms, but that didn’t mean they didn’t appreciate a quiet moment in private to settle their business. And with Fluttershy silently studying the comprehensive historical text in a segregated corner of the room, why not seize the opportunity?

Scootaloo stood as still as she could, so as not to disturb her mommy’s concentration. Nopony was watching, so she allowed her tail to raise a bit, the instinctual motion encouraging her inner self to do the deed. Scootaloo didn’t really have to pee all that much, but, with a slight strain of her tummy, and a comfy chomp on her pacifier, she could squeeze out a bit after all.

Warm droplets rolled down her skin and left a little stain of moisture. Other ponies were close, they walked by and looked at the exhibits, but luckily, nopony could tell what Scootaloo was doing, even as she allowed herself a small sigh of relief. She gave a little shake of the backside, rubbing herself against the soft, absorbent fluff of her diaper, and her fur became all nice and dry again.

How cool! There was no trace of wetness to be felt - Scootaloo had gone to the bathroom, and her clothes were still dry, just like the big ponies! Of course, she had her diaper to thank for that (which she silently did), but Scootaloo was still proud of how mature she could be, and with her head held high, she rejoined her mommy in reading the very adult history texts.

“Here I am, everypony,” a stallion came through the door. He wore the lab coat with the most numerous pockets, overflowing with rulers and magnifying glasses that clattered when he walked. “Sorry for being late. I got caught up looking for a particularly fast bird who had stolen a sample of twigs from my desk. Anyway, everypony here for the tour? Good. Let’s get going right away.”

Everypony gathered around the guide and followed him through a side door. The group walked along a trodden path, through a landscape that tried to seem less influenced by ponies’ hooves than the fields, like if a painter had imagined a perfectly balanced wilderness.

“So my name’s Florence, and I’m the head of the ecology team here in Field One,” he said, “What you’ve just seen’s the administrative building, so no fancy lab equipment there, only dusty lecture halls and classy receptions. It does take quite a congregation to run the most diverse cultivated ecosystem in all of Equestria though, so we’d better not disturb the paper pushers in their important contributions.”

Scootaloo tried to follow Florence’s explanation, but something kept distracting her from the corner of her eye. It was a little bird that was hard to miss, its violet feathers shiny and colorful, and it jumped across tree stumps to branches to keep up with her. Scootaloo stopped to inspect the bird’s pretty feathers, and the bird stopped as well to gaze at her.

Scootaloo got closer. The bird got closer. And suddenly it flapped and made a move to grab her pacifier.

“Hey! No!” Scootaloo shooed the bird, securing the pacifier with her teeth, “go away!”

“I’d better hold on to my valuables if I were you, little filly,” Florence said, “you’ve just made acquaintance with our local Twinklestep populace. They settled near the office, since all the visitors come through here, and they know they can nab something that fancies their eye.”

“I doubt the bird would know what to do with a foal’s pacifier,” somepony said, to a round of laughter.

“Not that it cares, the Twinklestep wants anything that’s shiny or sparkly,” Florence said, patting the goggles in his pocket. They were attached by some string. “It decorates the nest with shiny valuables in order to make it stand out from the others and attract potential mates. More shiny stuff means the bird is more nimble and capable, producing better offspring to surpass them in turn. That’s the wondrous way in which nature works. And besides, who can resist shiny trinkets?”

“That’s kinda cool,” Scootaloo said, “but the pacifier’s still mine.”

“Don’t worry, Scoots, I think it learned its lesson,” Fluttershy said.

The Twinklestep sat on a branch and glowered at them, showing off its pretty plumage condescendingly. As if it had any need for Scootaloo’s silly little toy.

“You can probably smell it by now,” Florence said, “but we’ve reached the bee farm. Now, it may be tempting, but please don’t eat the flowers by the wayside, they’re carefully monitored for pollination activity. Which means they’re probably crawling with bugs. But a healthy population of bugs is the first step you need to take for a stable ecosystem, so our bees are important in keeping everything running smoothly. And look how industrious they are!”

The closest tree in the little clearing was bulging with bee hives along its trunk. Little insects were buzzing about everywhere, crawling around on flowers and carrying bright loads of pollen back to the tiny entrances in massive numbers.

“How can so many hives be right next to each other?” a filly beside Scootaloo said, “look, they’re not even crashing into each other.”

“Bees orient themselves using the position of the sun and directions they communicate to each other,” Florence said, “which is something they’re exceedingly good at. Our bees have become so good, in fact, they can adjust their rhythm of travel to be in tune with the neighboring hive. That way the bees don’t obstruct each other when they come and go. Amazing isn’t it? Here, have some honey for the good question.”

There was a little table prepared with a few honey scrapings and fresh dandelions for the visitors. Fluttershy took a flower, dunked it into the honey and ate it. Then she fed a second one to Scootaloo. The wax was crunchy and sharply aromatic.

“Mmh,” Scootaloo said, “tastes like when you eat a whole bunch of flowers all at the same time.”

“It’s really different from the honey in Ponyville,” Fluttershy said, “I like how sweet it is in comparison.”

After everypony had their fill, they trekked on past some more trees and began cresting a hill. When they stopped, Scootaloo found herself engulfed in the earthen smells and long, echoing sounds of the forest. A woodpecker tapped relentlessly somewhere in the distance as the crowns of the trees, bearing both leaves and needles, swayed overhead.

“The only thing we don’t produce locally at all is lumber,” Florence said, “this here is a designated forestry area meant as co-habitat for the fields and the meadows. We mustn’t forget that we’re in a sky city, and space is limited, so we use it to make living environments for as many plants and animals as possible. As you all know, nature favors diversity in life, and by respecting that fact we’re able to maintain our highly condensed ecosystem.”

By the time they reached the top of the hill, the city ponies had already begun panting from exhaustion, but Fluttershy and Scootaloo happily marched past the group and out of the forest, stepping into bright sunlight. The illusion of a densely vegetated, rolling green hill wasn’t quite perfect, since the city’s skyline was visible in the distance, but it still felt pleasantly fresh and airy.

“You had better stand still for this one,” Florence said, halting everypony, “you’re about to get a show.”

Somepony stood further down the path. She wore plate armor upon her upper body, and, an almost impossible sight, a huge bird almost half her size stood on her back, surveying its surroundings.

“This is Windslicer and her golden eagle Greif,” Florence said, “he comes from the Shrouded Peaks, and we suspect he has Roc blood in him given his size. Don’t worry, though. We won’t get on his bad side.” He coughed and murmured. “And we’ll try not to get on hers either.”

From underneath a side pouch of her armor, Windslicer unholstered a light crossbow. The weapon was small, but visibly took great strength to cock, the steel cables clicking under the strain. Out of the quiver around her shoulders, she pulled a modified bolt, and nocked it onto the groove. It wasn’t really a bolt, more like a small red ball impaled on a stick with some feathers for aerial stability.

Windslicer aimed downhill and fired the crossbow. The bolt whizzed through the air and vanished somewhere in the distance. With intense concentration, the bird watched and waited.

A single word, cold as metal. “Go.”

The bird turned projectile and shot off without as much as disturbing a single hair on his owner’s mane. The blade of feathery fury sliced through the air soundlessly, as Greif rode out his trajectory faster than the eye could follow. At a moment’s notice he had become naught but a speck in the distance, arcing in a long, graceful curve that perfectly intersected with the grass in a single point. He continued describing a wide loop through the sky that ultimately brought him back to his mistress and terminated precisely on her back, on the spot he had stood before.

In his beak, Greif carried the red bolt. Everypony stomped their hooves in applause as the bird hopped onto her shoulder and deposited the toy neatly back into the quiver. He didn’t care much for the applause, but he very eagerly received a hefty treat from Windslicer’s pouch.

While appreciative for the show, everypony, including Florence, preferred to steer clear of Windslicer and Greif in passing. The brooding pair paid no heed.

“Not all of our birds are ferocious hunters though,” Florence said, “if you look above and in the bushes, you’ll see the results of our ornithology department’s great work. Bonus points if you can name them.”

“You’ve got a pretty big flock of blackbirds under your wing,” Fluttershy said.

“Yes, that’s right,” Florence said, “and how did you know?”

“Um,” Fluttershy said, “their songs stand out from the others when they fly low during mating season.”

Indeed, the blackbirds trilled rapidly and with great variety, a contrasting backdrop to the rather smooth and, for pony ears, homogeneous songs of all the other birds dotting the sky.

“Whoa, you sure know your birds,” Florence remarked, “anypony else?”

Impressed by Fluttershy’s knowledge, everypony got rather engaged in trying to spot easily identifiable birds closeby. The classical sparrows and swallows populated the skies above the meadow in search for easy meals in the form of insects and seeds, while finches and even a wren preferred to huddle on the branches of a little tree and observe the visitors from a safe distance.

The further they went, the more exotic the birds became. An elusive alder gimpel was easily spotted once it stirred in the grass, foraging with its senses heightened by some natural form of magic. A bunch of pigeons nested in a patch of dirt, though Scootaloo couldn’t imagine their feathers staying such a brilliant white without the use of magic either. And, finally, there were increasingly more small animals which weren’t birds at all.

A little squirrel scampered along the path and quickly clambered up the bark of the massive tree ahead. The tree was positively gigantic, its trunk so broad as Scootaloo several times from nose to tail, and the top was high enough that even Fluttershy would have to fly for altitude for a while to reach it. And the plant seemed very old. Deeply furrowed and gnarled, countless limbs and branches sprouted from the weathered trunk, offering ample crevices and hideouts for the myriads of little birds and critters arriving and leaving constantly.

“And this,” Florence said, “is our tree of life. Well, it’s not a real tree of life, like what exists in different parts of Equestria, but still. Somepony had planted an enchanted seed here in the past, and it’s been the ecological enabler of Field One for the longest part of ancient history. The tree flourishes from whatever life happens in its vicinity, and so it grows and nestles to accommodate and feed pretty much everything you see around you right now. And the more plants and animals make their home here, the more the tree will grow in turn.”

“Symbiosis!” Scootaloo blurted.

Florence blinked. “That’s what I was getting at,” he said, “and can you also explain what symbiosis is, little filly?”

“Um,” Scootaloo said, tucking her tail from all the sudden attention, “symbiosis is when plants or animals live together and help each other. And it’s common in nature.”

“Very good,” Florence laughed, “the definition’s a bit of a point of contention, but it’s good enough for our purposes. Well then, seeing how we’re done here, let’s go have a seat.”

Scootaloo couldn’t stop wagging her tail from the praise, she practically bounced toward the tree. The air around the tree of life was cool and humid, and full of the sounds of countless little animals scurrying to and fro across the dome of leaves aglow in a rich and satiating green from the warm afternoon sun. Situated snugly in the shade was a seating arrangement, a big wooden stool in the middle of a sprawling collection of rather worn bean bags.

The young ponies happily bounced on top of the bean bags, as everypony took their seat around Florence. Fluttershy patted the pillowy surface beside her, and Scootaloo came crashing in, flopping onto the bean bag and stretching out across its yielding volume.

The break was welcome, Scootaloo hadn’t realized how tired her hooves had become from the hike. It wasn’t surprising, though, walking for longer stretches turned out rather difficult with the constant hindrance of her bulky underwear affixed to her rear underneath her skirt. The other foal didn’t have that problem, she was being carried in a sling by her daddy. Well, if a little difficulty walking was the price for freedom, Scootaloo was willing to pay it.

“And now comes my favourite part,” Florence said, shushing the audience, “where I tell you the story of the evolution of all life in our world. You see, the lands we call our homes haven’t always been the pieces of paradise that we know. Not by a long shot, quite a number of events had to take place on a global scale before any of this could be possible.”

“In the beginning, the world was naught but a roiling mass of heat, a crashing and exploding jumble of the most primordial of energies. This went on for a while, hundreds of millions of years, the sun and the moon and the stars, as they were, eventually feeding enough into escalating arcane processes to bring the elements into existence, and with the stability of matter came the dual stability of magic, both of which are necessary to support life in the first place.”

“A while later, again millions of years, the roiling storms and arcane surges ravaging the world managed to mix things up enough to produce stable compounds that could interact with sunlight, arcane charges, and other forms of raw magic. We can observe and test the very same compounds changing under external stimuli even today in the lab. These compounds eventually were capable of restructuring their surroundings to produce replicas of themselves, effectively creating a first form of procreation. Some would argue this is the first time we can call something life.”

“This went on for some time until it so happened that two or more such things stuck together. Now, obviously that wouldn’t be of any consequence unless they could also reproduce together, which didn’t happen until quite a while further. But when it did, oh boy, did it take the world by storm. Just think of it, several little things sticking together, each specialized in something, one for collecting surrounding elements, a moveable one for propulsion, and a third one encoding the process of recreating the entire group. Now, isn’t that cooperation kind of a recipe for success?”

Scootaloo was positively riveted by the tale. She was at the edge of the bean bag when the compounds figured out how to produce and distribute general purpose energy among themselves, creating the first form of proto-bacteria. She was flabbergasted as the little beings began utilizing the power of the sun and employing magic for the first time to reshape parameters of their environments to their benefit. She was exhilarated when enough lifeforms came together to create the first cellular organism, necessitating a whole bunch of crazy chemical ingenuity to establish something like a crude form of internal communication that allowed for coordinated efforts.

And, slowly but surely, Scootaloo was starting to get kind of uncomfortable.

Only now that she was lounging on the bean bag, and her body had begun winding down in the comfortable post-workout exhaustion, did the increasingly bothersome tingle in the back of her head become apparent. Scootaloo had been trying to ignore it, but she could ignore it no longer.

The journey that was their little adventure, specifically exploring new culinary experiences with exotic food and drink, had left her rather stuffed. Not that it hadn’t been worth it, her time with Fluttershy was the most fun Scootaloo had ever had, but the sad truth was that an abrupt end was near.

Scootaloo seriously needed to go to the bathroom by now. The sweet little game of pretend Fluttershy had played with her had been nothing short of exhilarating, but it wouldn’t withstand the crude interruption of Scootaloo doing her thing. Scootaloo would stop playing to be little, and she doubted they could get back into it afterwards.

She had dragged it out for as long as she could, but the call of nature was too imperative, and Scootaloo had to take care of it like a big pony.

“Um,” Scootaloo whispered, “mommy?”

Fluttershy didn’t hear.

“Mommy?” Scootaloo whispered louder.

“Yes?” Fluttershy whispered back, “What is it, Scoots?”

“Um, could you help me with … something?” Scootaloo said, “When we get back to the station … think you could, um … you could take me to the bathroom?”

“Why ever do you want to visit the bathroom?” Fluttershy said, “You know, you usually wouldn’t expect that from a foal.”

“Yeah …” Scootaloo said, “I kinda need to use the bathroom … and it’s, like, you know. Urgent.”

“Oh, poor Scoots,” Fluttershy gasped. Her voice was like silk as she brushed Scootaloo’s cheek with a gentle hoof. “There, there. How about you try to go potty now, hm? You’ll feel much better when you’re done, just see.”

Scootaloo swallowed. “I’m trying to …” she said, “but, like, the bathroom’s way back …”

“That’s true,” Fluttershy said. She put her hoof on Scootaloo’s head and gently began stroking her mane. “It’s okay, Scoots. Remember what we said. Go ahead whenever you’re comfortable.”

Scootaloo’s cheeks were getting warmer by the moment. “B-but … but I can’t … it’s like, I have to, like,” she said, leaning in close to whisper as quietly as possible, “I have to go number two.”

“Mhm,” Fluttershy said, continuing her mane strokes evenly.

Scootaloo was about to choke. “You want me to … in my … “ she said, “in my …”

“Yes, you can go in your diaper,” Fluttershy said evenly, “that’s why you have it on.”

“But … but … it’ll get all icky …” Scootaloo said.

“Yes, Scootaloo, foals can’t go to the bathroom like big ponies,” Fluttershy said, “that’s why they have a diaper to take care of it, like you. Now, finish up making your potty. I would like us to listen to the rest of the story, please.”

Scootaloo sought Fluttershy’s face for a trace of jest, but there was none. And she was right. Any concern Scootaloo had of her responsibilities was little more than a fancy thought. There was no false act, nothing played, no pretense involved.

Scootaloo was a little filly, that’s why Fluttershy took care of her. No truth was more real than this, especially not Scootaloo’s silly notion of doing things which she was much too little to do on her own.

Nothing counted except the crystal clear imperative of Scootaloo’s base instincts.

Do what mommy says.

Fluttershy picked up Scootaloo and put her down halfway on top of her seat, so that her upper body was lying on the bean bag while her hind legs stood on the grass.

“Here, it should be easier this way,” Fluttershy said.

Scootaloo wanted to thank her, but her body was already way ahead of her in following her mommy’s directive. It felt entirely different than what Scootaloo was used to. She was aware that she needed to go, but because she was just a little filly, she had no choice but to relieve herself right here and now.

Her diaper had no special mechanism in place to make the process less awkward for her, no superabsorbent core to soak everything up, so special fabric to wick away the moisture from her skin. She was simply expected to push it into the seat of her underpants, because it was convenient, simple as that.

Scootaloo moved as gently as possible so the rustling of her diaper wouldn’t alert anypony in the audience. Guided by intuition, she couldn’t help assuming the same posture so typical for infants, bending her knees and sticking out her butt. While the motion made her stomach rather comfortable and relaxed, it also made her skirt ride all the way up and pulled the diaper tight against her backside. She’d better get on with it before anypony could see.

She prepared to do her part, but found that she was already about to go, needing only to relax and let her natural tension do its thing. Scootaloo waited patiently, her head buried in the woven surface of the bean bag, shuddering in the pleasant relief as she felt herself beginning to fill her diaper. The act felt very comfortable and appropriate, finally confirming the reason for why the diaper’s backside was wide enough to cover Scootaloo’s cutie mark on both sides and why it went so far up her back.

The urge suddenly intensified when the available space in Scootaloo’s diaper became filled out and nothing more would come. By pure instinct, Scootaloo tightened her stomach, raised her tail and began pushing against the resistance of her clothing, squishing more on top of what was already there, before the diaper pushed back and spread the warm mass evenly across Scootaloo’s buttocks.

Scootaloo got goosebumps from the pleasant relief as she gripped the bean bag tightly with her forehooves, a little grunt escaping through her nose. A mare sitting closeby turned around at the noise, but what she saw was ordinary enough not even to warrant a raise of the brow. What she saw was Scootaloo, just another little filly, her thickly diapered rear wiggling in the air, with her muzzle scrunched up behind her pacifier from the strain as she pushed and squirmed. Every parent instantly recognized what was going on, and the mare barely paused to count her luck not having to clean that one up, before turning away again.

“Ahh …” Scootaloo sighed, slumping on top of the bean bag. She was comfy, she was relieved, and she was now so wonderfully empty.

Fluttershy had been right, this felt more refreshing and natural to her than Scootaloo could have ever imagined. Her tummy, was so gratifyingly light, Scootaloo wanted nothing more than to relax and suckle on her pacifier, contentedly enjoying the pleasant feeling.

“Are you finished, Scoots?” Fluttershy said, patting her back with a hoof.

“Yeah,” Scootaloo mumbled.

“Good,” Fluttershy said.

Her hoof didn’t go away, though. In fact, it began moving further down, going all the way down Scootaloo’s back and across her backside, vanishing underneath her skirt and coming to rest square underneath Scootaloo’s tail. Fluttershy gave a bit of pressure and made the plastic yield, the back of Scootaloo’s diaper now completely filled out to a smooth roundness.

“Good filly,” Fluttershy said.

Scootaloo was already engrossed in Florence’s story again. It was easier than she had anticipated. Sure, whenever Scootaloo moved, the warm presence underneath her tail made itself apparent, but all she had to do was to kinda ignore it and she could proceed as usual. And that was pretty useful, she would much rather listen to the tale of the kingdoms of life and how they came to be, because the story was really, really interesting now that she wasn’t distracted anymore.

And with her mommy by her side, she knew that everything else was taken care of.