I wish we could tell tu the gas didn`t choke Scootaloo, and that she didn`t get terribly ill from it. And that we had to wait for her every half-hour so she could puke. And that she didn`t hate me for not taking the disease instead of her. What`s worse was the chemical burns, which made her eyes swell up badly.


She couldn`t handle it any longer, so she gave up. Me and Sweetie Belle both took turns carrying her. It was a long way to shelter, and we ain`t about to let her die. She started choking again, we had to get somewhere fast.

"Oye, over here!!! I can help ya with that filly tu be carrying." the voice belonged to an old Stallion wearing an old coat. Sweetie Belle approached him cautiosly, scanning the area for any traps. I followed her slowly, I heard Scootaloo gasp and wease. So I picked up the pace a bit, he seemed nice after all. I rested Scootaloo down on the cot, "I`ll take good care a her, I promise with me life." he vowed willingly. I nodded, I had to trust him after all. I stowed my wepons in an umbrella case, then sat back and let my eyes close.




To be continued...