“ALRIGHT!” a shrill voice rang out across the emptying buckball field, “GET SOME! THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!”

“Good work today, Swifty-wifty!” chirped Pinkie Pie, ruffling her daughter’s curly, red hair, “You sure were… brutal on that field!”

“‘CAUSE I’M A KILLER!” Swifty Scuffles roared, bucking at the sky and stomping the ground like it had offended her great ancestors. “I MADE THAT LIL’ UNICORN BLEED, HAH, AND I’LL DO IT AGAIN BEFORE ANYPONY’S GONNA BEAT ME AT BUCKBALL!”

“Haven’t we had that little talk about buckball being fun, honey?” asked Pinkie Pie, raising an eyebrow.

“I AM HAVIN’ FUN!” the foal shouted, grinning wildly up at her mother, the lightly bleeding cuts across her muzzle shining in the sun, “I’M HAVIN’ A LOTTA FUN!”

“…Well, that’s all I ask!” shrugged the mare, with a smile, “Oh, let’s hurry up, butter cup, I’ve got some some cookies to bake for the party this weekend-~~if we can keep them in the house, this time!”

As the pair hurried off on the direction of home, the littler pony continued to celebrate her sporting victory by kicking, stomping, and screaming aggressively, dirtying her pink coat even further with mud and grass stains.

“I can’t wait till next practice, Mama!” Swifty howled, “I’m gonna rough up those foals so bad, they’re not gonna know what hit ‘em! Why, I’m gonna kick so hard that the ball is gonna break the bucket! I swear, when I get on that field again I’m gonna-~~”

Swifty’s thrashing was cut short, when her muddy hoof crashed down upon a dandelion, and she was suddenly silent. A slow, creeping horror spread across her, and her face drained of it’s powder-pink happiness, as she slowly, carefully lifted her back leg from where it had landed. She looked down, and her green eyes met the broken stem and scattered fluff of the crushed dandelion.

The filly sniffled.

“Mom…” Swifty mumbled, softly, as hot tears beginning to rush down her face, “M-Mom I-II–I hurt the I–hurt the–the–the-” In an instant, the filly burst completely into tears, and fell to the ground.

“Oh no,” whispered Pinkie Pie, kneeling down and putting her front leg around Swifty’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Swifty-wifty, it’s okay…”

“I-I~~I-I k-killed it!” she wailed, and clung tightly to Pinkie, “I didn’t m-mean to do it…”

“I know you didn’t, honey bunny, it’s okay,” she soothed, glancing from her foal to the flower, trying to think up a good way of switching the mood back to how it had been a moment ago. Pinkie’s eyes lit up, as an idea hit her.

“Hey, y’know what the upside is, Swift?” she smiled, pulling away to look at Swifty, “See all the fluffity bits, that got thrown everywhere?”

Swifty nodded, sadly.

“Well, that’s what’s supposed to happen! When a dandelion gets old, it’s supposed to poof-” she made a dramatic exploding motion with her front legs-“and all the fluff goes everywhere, and grows into new dandelions!”

“S-so everythin’s… okay?” asked the filly, meekly, brushing her mane out of her eyes sheepishly.

“Everything’s okie dokie, Loki!” her mother grinned, hoping back up onto her hooves, and holding one out to Swifty. “Watcha say we throw the new little flowers-to-be an itty bitty birthday party when we get home, huh?”

“THAT SOUNDS LIKE THE BEST IDEA EVER!” she shouted, jumping up as well and rushing in front of her mother, down the path towards home. “Let’s totally do that, Mama, it’ll be the best party you’ve ever thrown! We can frost cupcakes to look like big ol’ roses, and we can-~~”

The two pink ponies tore down the road, giddily planning the next celebration.

---

Swifty Scuffles has long been the character that I’ve had the least notes on, the least established personality. My only notes for her actually say “extremely contradictory in every area of her personality,” “sadistic pacifist,” “yells like Ned,” and “emotions change on a dime.” So, naturally, I had to explore those things! I definitely think I have a better handle on her character, now