“There you are, Scootaloo!”

“You can’t just run off on me like -- uh, okay.”

Scootaloo snuggled up to Terry in a big hug, grinning all the way.

“Sorry,” Scootaloo said, “I didn’t mean to run off. I just wanted to check if there’s anything interesting back there.”

“And? Is there?” Terry said.

“No,” Scootaloo said, “Did I miss anything over here?”

“Well, they sang a bunch,” Terry said, “And then they stopped. Some guy wearing a mountain of gold and a bunch of crows just showed up.”

“That could only be Conductor Fair Pass,” Scootaloo said, “And they’re ravens. Let’s go see him.”

Terry raised a brow at Scootaloo’s newly acquired waddle. It was difficult to walk with a significantly increased weight strapped to her lower half, not to mention the by now absurdly proportioned bulk. Scootaloo did her best, despite looking ridiculous, to counteract the imbalance with a wider gait and through increased use of her tail. Thankfully, Terry didn’t say anything. She did, however, elect not to take Scootaloo on her back this time.

The plaza was absolutely packed. It’s as if everypony had crammed in on the last centimeter of space just to be part of whatever was going on. They were even sitting on the metal cages around the cold fire, though, curiously, there was nopony flying immediately overhead. The band and the singing group had been swallowed by the masses, but Terry and Scootaloo managed to squeeze their way through to Circuit and Magnolia, who had been occupying the best spots.

“What’s he gonna do with the bucket?” Scootaloo said.

“That’s not a bucket,” Magnolia said, “it’s a chalice. Don’t you see the grape vines?”

“What’s he gonna do with the chalice then?” Scootaloo said.

“Just listen,” Magnolia said.

Fair Pass’ sermon couldn’t be overheard, his piercing voice easily dwarfing the noise of the crowd. He couldn’t be overlooked either, the massive golden chalice, despite the intricacy of its grape vine decorations, overshadowed by his towering jewelry regalia. Indeed, only one thing shone more radiantly than his elaborate robes, and that was the ravens’ obsidian plumage, flocks of birds sitting packed on the chalice’s rim and on top of and all over the conductor himself, blazing smooth black feathers, and sparkles in their attentive eyes.

“... and the story has been well received, my listeners,” Fair Pass preached, “for this year, we look back upon a most stellar record of growth and prosperity. We saw the return of our brave sailors from the far side of the world, just recently. We witnessed the renewed interest in our history and our culture. We secured more trade outposts, built more real estate, stored more surplus and grew our workforce than beyond the past years’ wildest dreams. And we serenade, my listeners, we sing, ever moving forward, and one song rings louder than any other. It is the song of mutual respect and cooperation, for the Canoness listens, and she carries the tune beyond the horizons of Equestria.”

“Rise, my listeners! Progress! Who you are here, your future sings bright indeed. And remember to share your wealth! Especially you, who tonight came out the colosseum victorious. The Canoness listens! And so your intent is just, of your wishes she will approve!”

With the last word, Fair Pass swung his hooves theatrically, and the ravens took to the air, from his head and his back, from the rim of the chalice and from inside the chalice. It must have been hundreds, an endless flurry of onyx beaks and feathers, catching the golden light like a roiling maelstrom among the stars.

Somepony stepped forward and threw a shiny bit into the chalice. Except the coin never landed inside, one of the birds caught it out of the air and made off with it into the darkness.

“What are they doing?” Scootaloo cried over the increasing commotion.

“Throwing money,” Magnolia said.

“What?” Scootaloo said.

“It’s a donation,” Magnolia said, “You donate to the Choir, and the Canoness is gonna make your wish come true. Look!”

More and more ponies stepped forward, and they all cried their wishes into the sky before tossing a glinting coin toward the chalice.

“I wish to be part of the next airship crew!”

“I wish to buy my own house near the farm!”

“I wish that pretty zebra at school would notice me!”

None of the dazzling arcs described by the golden bits even reached their terminus. With perfect precision, accurately and without collisions, did the ravens pluck the money out of the air. Even if somepony completely missed their mark, a flash of claw of beak was at the ready to accept the offering and carry it away.

Magnolia had produced her own coin from a bag. “I wish to be big and strong,” she said, “so I can stand up for myself and for my friends, and that I can help everypony who needs it. Kind of like Terry’s auntie.”

“Hey!” Terry said.

Magnolia tossed the coin really high, almost hitting one of the ravens, who took it and promptly flew off.

“Okay,” Terry said, “I wish to be smart and kind, and to never lose my temper. So I can get the job at the daycare and look after cute little foals all day.” She cautiously threw her coin, and ducked when a raven closed in, but the bird elegantly evaded her and claimed the bit.

Circuit sought Scout for advice, but the tiny pony was aglee with the shiny spectacle. “I guess I should be wishing for success in school and stuff,” Circuit said, “But, oh, what the hay. Release the new issue of Power Ponies already!” His coin went the way of the others.

Scootaloo was left with empty hooves. “But ... I don’t have a ...”

Wait. In her jacket. Breast pocket. Something hard. What was that? She undid the button, and pulled out a perfectly shiny new bit.

“Cool!” Scootaloo gasped. Just what she needed!

She carefully clasped the coin in a hoof, reached out, and threw the bit into the air as far as she could. One of the ravens immediately locked on to her, came in at a low arc, and picked up the small piece of metal, vanishing merrily into the night.

Scootaloo’s friends gathered around her.

“So? What did you wish for?” Magnolia said.

“Uh,” Scootaloo said, “I just wished for you guys’ wishes to come true.”

“Really?” Terry said, “You wished nothing for yourself?”

“Nah,” Scootaloo said, “These last two days, I already got everything I ever wished for.”

Scootaloo was swooped up, the world a blur of fur and smiles, as her friends piled on for a group hug. What was up with them? Scootaloo had only said the truth, no need to make a big deal.

Nevertheless, she enjoyed the snuggle, however brief it was. The raven ritual was beginning to escalate, and they had to scurry away from the plaza to avoid the barrage of metal and feather.

Scootaloo had meant what she said, though, and probably even in ways she couldn’t fully tell. She’d been having one heck of a time in these two days, seeing so many amazing new things and having so much fun. And, she had enjoyed every moment of it to its fullest. Scootaloo cherished the excitement of discovery, being among great ponies and feeling the air of progress, and she loved playing filly and being allowed to wear comfy diapers and play her little games and have neat clothes.

But that wasn’t all. There was more, something that Scootaloo only now found herself able to begin to understand. Because she could do stuff to her heart’s content, and never, not even once, was she made to doubt herself, to keep secret what she wanted, being scared of the repercussions. For the first time since she could remember, there was no fear, no apprehension.

For the first time, ever, Scootaloo was free to be herself.

And it was all thanks to this amazing city, thanks to her incredibly cool friends, and thanks to her breathtaking companion, Fluttershy.

Fluttershy, and the other grown ups, were still with the jungle masks, but they seemed to be nearing last call. Scootaloo longed to be with her.

Meanwhile, somepony had managed to pull a piece of wood from one of the cold fire cages. A small impression in the dirt served as impromptu fire pit, and Scootaloo and her friends joined the others around the flame.

Magnolia and Terry huddled close to the elusive warmth, as did Circuit, who held little Scout close. Scootaloo didn’t get to choose her seat either, she was simply picked up and plopped down onto the hard packed dust. Not that she minded, though, Scootaloo was probably sitting more comfortably than anypony else. The particulars of the malleable damp bulk underneath made for a surprisingly luxurious seat.

They talked. The subjects were familiar and very adolescent. School, parties, relationships. Scootaloo found herself completely unable to follow the conversation. The presence of the voices was soothing. She soon wiggled free of Terry’s protective embrace, and scuttled closer to the fire. The light clear flame was mesmerizing as it danced on top of the solitary piece of wood. The wood was barely even charred, yet the flame managed to be so bright, and though it seemed kind of impotent, there was still some heat to be felt. Scootaloo found herself entranced, reaching out with a hoof and --

“Oops, careful there,” somepony said, and Scootaloo was pulled back.

“Gotta watch you more closely, huh, Scootaloo?” Terry said.

“She’s cute,” the other pony said, “is she, like, your little sister or something?”

“No, we’re not related,” Terry said, “But her mommy is right around the corner. I am supposed to take care of Scootaloo for tonight, and that means she’s my little treasure. Isn’t that right?”

Terry held Scootaloo close and gave her a light kiss on the back of the head. Scootaloo found her cheeks flaring up from the cutesy gesture, but she didn’t care. The other pony giggled, and Scootaloo happily grinned back around her pacifier.

Scootaloo’s friends and the others went to different schools, but apparently had some common acquaintances. That meant lots of juicy details from events the other side hadn’t heard of. School, parties, relationships. Scootaloo usually indulged in these topics eagerly, but now she found herself way too relaxed to participate. She crawled off to the side a bit, joined Scout in examining some rocks. The rocks would be pretty if they weren’t covered in dust.

In fact, the procession had kicked up a lot of dust. Over in the plaza proper, the donation festivities had died down a bit, but lost none of their fervor. The most devoted of the Choir’s followers remained, serenading melodic praises alongside Fair Pass, amidst a plume of dust, feathers and bird droppings. Most ponies were glad to leave the space and spend their remaining money at the bars on the other side.

All, except for one. Scootaloo recognized the figure. He was big. His piercings were gleaming as much as his spiky mane. It was Slog. And he wasn’t headed for the bars, he was walking straight towards her, until he had built himself up in front of Scootaloo, in all his armored glory.

“Hey, filly,” Slog said, “nice singing back there.”

“Uh ...” Scootaloo said, “Really? I mean, thanks?”

Slog raised a brow, piercings jingling.

“Sorry,” Scootaloo said, “you just didn’t look like somepony who would be interested in singing.”

“Right,” Slog said, “just giving credit where credit’s due.” He mustered Scootaloo. “Looks can be deceiving, you know.”

“It’s not the looks that matter,” Magnolia joined in, holding a hoof against her chest, “it’s what’s in here. It’s the heart. A good friend is a good friend, no matter how they appear.”

Slog either ignored her or considered her words silently. He then turned to Scootaloo. “I saw you at the colosseum,” he said. His voice was strong, hard, like it needed to force its way out of his bulking neck. “Seems like the contestants recognized you. How come?”

“Oh, that’s a long story,” Scootaloo and Magnolia giggled, “We can tell you if you want.”

“Did you come here to see the fight as well?” Magnolia said.

“Yes,” Slog said.

He remained silent, but Magnolia didn’t let up, “So? How much did you enjoy it? It was awesome, right?”

“Uh,” Slog said. His stoicism began to crack. “Yes ... The fight was a very impressive display of combat prowess. We’ve seen Scribe in the ring before, you know, but when they announced that she would be facing a mystery opponent, it was sure to be something new. I’d never seen a transmuter in battle before, and for it to be the legendary Gorn ...”

“And he was the biggest challenge Scribe had faced yet,” Magnolia marveled, “No fight had taken her this long to finish. I wonder if she’s found her equal?”

“It wouldn’t be surprised,” Slog said, “for I couldn’t follow Gorn’s movements myself. He was very fast, and his range of transmutation skills practically endless.”

“He wasn’t doing anything particularly arcane though,” Scootaloo said, “Given that he’s no unicorn, and channels magic through his gear, I’d wager he employed only simple materia transmutes, using the dust and the concrete as its base. His magical equipment would have never held if he hadn’t constructed it with such precision. That’s where his true strength lies.”

Slog seemed genuinely surprised. “You know about transmutation magic?” he said.

“Not very much,” Scootaloo said, “but I’ve seen it used before. Twilight taught us in magic class.”

“Twilight?” Slog blinked, “Twilight Sparkle?”

“You know her?” Scootaloo said.

“Sure I know her,” Slog said, “Twilight Sparkle. Protegé of Princess Celestia herself. One of the most remarkable magical prodigies of our time. They keep writing about her in the Colossus, and many more magazines. I’m just surprised that you would have met her.”

“Oh, I live in the same town as her,” Scootaloo said, “I’m Scootaloo by the way. And this is Magnolia.”

Slog regarded the two fillies and said, “And I’m --”

“Oh, we know who you are,” Terry said acridly, barely looking over her shoulder.

“Huh?” Slog said, blinking, “What’s her problem?”

“Don’t you what’s her problem me, big guy,” Terry spat, “You know exactly what my problem is.”

“I really don’t,” Slog said defiantly.

“Oh, you don’t, huh?” Terry said, “Back at school? When you made me look ridiculous in front of everypony? You led me on and made everypony laugh at me. Dollies? Does that ring a bell? You bullied me, and you didn’t even care!”

“I did no such thing!” Slog shouted, “I don’t, bully, anypony. Bullying is for losers, and I sure as hay didn’t hear you call me a loser right now.”

Terry’s jaw dropped at the preposterous retort.

“They have a history,” Circuit whispered to the bewildered onlookers.

“Besides,” Slog said, “if I insulted you, you probably did something to tick me off, so it’s your fault, really.”

“My fault!?” Terry fumed, “How dare you! Don’t believe walking around decorated like a hearth’s warming tree gives you a free pass to make ponies around you miserable, and then insist it’s their fault!”

“Well, it’s hard to imagine it’s not,” Slog said, “don’t think nopony notices your arrogance from afar, with your haughty dress and your snotty attitude.”

“Snotty attitude? I’ll give you a snotty attitude, you little --”

“Guys! Guys,” Circuit said, standing between the two. Slog was large, but Terry was considerably larger still, “Enough. No need to fight tonight, okay? It wouldn’t be beneficial for either of us. So let’s just calm down, everypony.”

“I’m not here to fight,” Slog said, “I was just here to talk to these two fillies. If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

“These two fillies,” Terry hissed, “are my friends.”

“So?” Slog said, “Does that make them your property? Your precious little toys that you have to protect from the big, bad savage from the gutters of the lower city?”

“If the ponies from the lower city,” Terry said, “are all as uncultured, rude buffoons as you, then yes! That’s exactly what it means!”

“Better to be rude than to be stuck up,” Slog said.

“Better to be stuck up than to be barbaric,” Terry said.

They were heaving. Scootaloo feared that violence might yet happen, but it didn’t. Slog wordlessly turned away and walked.

“To think I even bothered coming up here,” he said, “all I find is the same narrow minded pretense they keep telling us about.”

“Oh, you’re just looking for trouble,” Terry said, “I know your type.”

“Don’t speak about my type,” Slog said, “I don’t need any more of that.”

“Come on, cut him a break,” Scootaloo remarked, “It must be difficult enough for him, if he’s paying for his own going to school.”

“What?” Slog spun around, furious, “Who told you that?”

“I just heard,” Scootaloo said, “that you choose to go to school in the city instead of the lower city. And that you work at the steel mill all day. I just wondered if you pay your own tuition, because your parents wouldn’t permit you to go?”

“I don’t need permission from anypony,” Slog roared, “I’m not somepony’s plaything, I’m not somepony’s property. I’m not a worker from the steel mill. I’m not a buffoon from the lower city. I’m myself, I’m my own pony, and nopony is going to take that away from me. Not you, not the steel mill workers, not my parents, not anypony.”

“I’ve been defending you city ponies in front of my parents all my life, even though you’re making it increasingly difficult for me. I know this is not the way forward. I know we’re not supposed to let the old way separate us. But my parents have been in the lower city all their lives. They don’t know how to break out, how to learn to understand what and who lives above their heads. Only I can do that. And if they make me work for it, then so be it.”

Scootaloo didn’t know somepony so muscular could tremble like a twig in the wind. “And your parents don’t want you to be here,” she said, “because they don’t want you to mingle with city folk. Because nothing good ever comes from that.”

“H-how do you know?” Slog said, eyes wide.

“Because Terry told me that her mother said exactly the same thing about lower city folk,” Scootaloo said.

Terry had shut up as well, quite taken aback by the outburst. “My mother didn’t want me to come here either,” she said, “but I went anyway. I don’t believe her reasons, that it wouldn’t do me any good. Never did.”

Slog swallowed. “It’s difficult,” he said, “I don’t ... it sometimes feels overwhelming. I can’t make them stop. Stop talking about their ways, and about our ways. They don’t want to. Because our ways are better than theirs. It’s how it’s always been. In the mill, on the street. I don’t want to hear it, and they don’t want to hear me.”

“And you can’t make them stop,” Terry said, “because they repeat endlessly, countless lifetimes of the same. Not just your seniors, but others of your age. They know it all. They do as they should. They belong. They’re insiders. And you are just a foal. Funny words and nonsense. You just go to the festival, and see for yourself that mingling with them will do you no good.”

“So all you can do is leave,” Slog said, “and see for yourself. Show them you’re no longer a foal.”

“Well, maybe you are,” Terry said, “maybe it’s better that way.”

“Wow ...” Magnolia said, “you guys have it tough with your parents. I don’t have any problems with mine.”

“I also like my mother,” Terry said, “it’s not like she’s a bad pony. I just don’t believe she understands everything right. That would be unreasonable to think, right? Nopony can understand everything.”

“I think my folks back down are doing their best,” Slog said, “and, hey, whatever works for them, works for them. I just don’t agree with them. But that doesn’t make them bad ponies. I just need to find my own way.”

“Have you considered moving into the city,” Terry said, “on your own?”

“Well, when I’m done with school,” Slog said, “I’ll surely be thinking about it. Don’t know what I’ll do for a job yet, but ... I’ll be thinking.”

“I, uh ...” Terry said, “Maybe we should talk.”

“Um,” Slog said, failing to meet Terry’s eyes, “I just ... I don’t - sometimes it’s just getting a bit much, you know. I don’t want to, but everyone talking at me, shouting at me, I feel like I’m buried, like I’m not getting any air. And then I start shouting, or I say things that I wish I hadn’t said. Like, you know ...”

Slog was fumbling over his words. He didn’t look so big anymore.

“I was just thinking ...” Terry said, “I mean ...”

“Look,” Slog said, “I really need to go now. My folks are expecting me home. But I’m kinda ... glad we talked. I’ll see you guys at school, alright?”

“Sure,” Terry said.

Slog departed, but not before turning over his shoulder and catching her gaze at last, “And ... um. Sorry.”

Then he was gone.

“Well, that was something,” somepony said. The group around the fire had watched with a spectrum of expressions, from shocked to entertained. One pony looked almost disappointed they hadn’t fought in the end.

“At least they got to talk it out,” Circuit rolled his eyes, “I’m sure I wouldn’t have heard the end of it if they hadn’t.”

“You’re sure?” Magnolia said, “Didn’t we meet for the first time just today?”

“Yeah, but I have a feeling we’ll be meeting again,” Circuit said, pointing at Scootaloo, “at least while she’s around.”

“Hey!” Scootaloo protested, “It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t even do anything.”

“Duh,” Circuit said, “Foals don’t do anything. They are just foals. That’s all they do. Isn’t that right, Scout?”

Scout received a nuzzle on the cheek. He blubbered in delight.

They got back around the fire. Barely anypony spoke, and most avoided Terry, who seemed to be caught up in her thoughts anyway. It was late. Scootaloo was getting tired, and she was glad to see the bars were beginning to close up. She was longing for her comfy bed, and truth be told, her hindquarters were beginning to feel kind of cold and clammy. She was lucky to have her friends nearby, she wasn’t sure how she would have fared without the comfort of their presence.

“Say, Terry,” Magnolia said, “what does your mother actually do for a living?”

“She owns companies,” Terry said.

“In the city?” Magnolia said.

“Yes,” Terry said.

“Is that what you were going to talk to Slog about?” Magnolia said.

“I said we’d talk,” Terry said, “nothing more.”

“Do you like him now?” Magnolia said.

“I still think he’s a buffoon,” Terry said.

They left it at that.

Ponies got up to leave. The entire plaza had become rather empty, a few figures drunk from the festivities lingered to marvel at the astonishing setup, but there was no trace of Fair Pass, or the marching band, or the singing group, or the majority of the crowd. In fact, the airspace above the fairgrounds had been opened up again, and ponies were descending with ropes and chains to tie down their vendor stall supplies, or to pack up and leave, and in the distance guards were patrolling the outer walls of the colosseum to make sure there were no partygoers left alone at dangerous heights.

Conversation around the fire died out, and everypony was content to stare at the magical flame wordlessly, the silent fire only contributing to the general tiredness with its hypnotizing soft ballet. It was soon time to go home. The grown ups arrived.

“Hey there, everypony,” Victory said, grinning from ear to ear. The smell suggested she’d finally had her smokes. She walked over to Terry and crossed necks with her, and Terry returned the gesture affectionately. “Has my little Terry been a good filly for me tonight?”

“I hope so,” Terry said.

“Well, that was a surprisingly mature answer,” Victory said.

“I guess they’re not so little after all, huh?” Magnolia’s mom said, and the four mares laughed nonsensically, obviously more than just a bit tipsy. She embraced Magnolia gently.

“Just enjoy it while it lasts, girls,” Merry Winds said, “I know I will.” She closed in on Circuit and Scout and pulled them both into a gleeful hug. Circuit hugged her back with similar enthusiasm, and little Scout was just happy at the funny feeling of being embraced.

Even while inebriated, Merry’s motherly instincts were unfaltering. In one subtle and confident motion, her hoof slipped down toward Scout’s bottom, and skillfully probed a few spots with some light prodding. Scout didn’t understand what was going on, he watched the other ponies with huge eyes, tracking their motions and watching the complex movement of their faces. But the way Merry’s ears perked up, he had something less than sophisticated inside his diaper.

Scootaloo snickered. Poor Scout. He was so small, he couldn’t resist having his diaper checked in front of everypony. It was clear what had transpired, if only from looking at Merry’s rumpled nose. How embarrassing it must have been, in front of all the --

Uh oh.

Movement. From behind.

“Hiya, Scoots,” Fluttershy said, voice like honey.

“Hi, mommy!” Scootaloo said, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, sweetie,” Fluttershy said. She embraced Scootaloo from behind so graciously, Scootaloo instinctively went almost limp. The sudden warmth of motherly hooves was wonderful, one big limb around the chest and the other one around the tummy.

But Scootaloo couldn’t prevent it from happening. The most natural thing in the world, Fluttershy’s hoof slid down across Scootaloo’s stomach, down below her skirt, seeking to examine what was between her hind legs.

Fluttershy gasped. “Scootaloo!”

“Yes, mommy,” Scootaloo said. Fluttershy hadn’t even needed to check underneath Scootaloo’s skirt, the sodden plastic-clad bulk hung heavily out under the hem.

“Oh, you really need a fresh diaper, sweetie,” Fluttershy said.

“Yes, mommy!” Scootaloo said. She sucked on her pacifier as hard as she could to create some distraction. Everypony was watching.

“Sorry, we don’t have any diapers left in your stroller,” Fluttershy said.

“Yes, mommy,” Scootaloo said.

This literally couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

“You used them all up today,” Fluttershy said.

“Yes, mommy,” Scootaloo said.

Or maybe it could.

“Do you wanna go back to the hotel?” Fluttershy said.

“Mhm,” Scootaloo nodded yes. Only her pacifier could save her now.

In reality, nopony had paid particular attention, except for Terry, who was biting her hoof to hold back her laughter. Oh boy, was she going to have a field day with this one.

Fluttershy left briefly, and returned with the stroller. Scootaloo was picked up and placed into the luxurious seat, finally able to lean back and relax, the world becoming framed by comfy, soft upholstery.

But her predicament wasn’t quite over, Fluttershy was unable to pull the strap closed between Scootaloo’s hind legs. She had to pick Scootaloo up again and sit her upright, and only then did she manage to pull the strap up and just barely snap it into the waist belt, the fabric taut around the considerable bulk of Scootaloo’s diaper. Scootaloo was starting to understand why foals were always uncomfortable when their diapers were full, but she would manage until the hotel.

All the things were packed, everypony said their farewells.

“I guess this is goodbye, huh?” Terry said to Scootaloo, “I’m glad you were here.”

“I’m also glad I was here,” Scootaloo said.

“Will you come to visit us again?” Magnolia said.

“I hope so,” Scootaloo said.

“Well, you’d better make sure,” Circuit said.

They hugged, and then they parted. They went in different directions, so Scootaloo was soon left with only the mollifying soft security of the stroller.

And the very pretty pony pushing it, as Scootaloo looked at Fluttershy’s chin from below.

Scootaloo sure hoped she’d come to visit again.

All in all, being herself felt pretty good.