Dark-Pit growled under his breath. The wind clashed into his face and his hair poked him in the eye no matter how many times, he put them back. Why can't those stupid gods do something by themselves for once? Why do I have to do this dirty work while they can stay in their pretty, little palaces? He thought to himself, let himself fall on a bigger rock and his arm cleaned his forehead of the sweat running over it. He hated summer. Especially the heatwaves that come with summer. He flinched at the sudden voice of Viridi ringing through his head: Maybe because these stupid gods could wipe you out like it was nothing. Dark Pit grumbled something under his breath while Palutena added her two cents: Yes. And the sooner we find Pit, the sooner you don't have to do our dirty work anymore. „Yeah,yeah... Whatever." The dark angel looked over to the few centurions Palutena gave him as, as she put it, „help". As irony has it, they were more of a handicap to him. They constantly asked what they're suppose to do even though it was obvious. And they seemed to be colorblind. „Pit! Captain! Sir!" A huge, bulky centurion stomped towards him and the dark-winged angel unconscious compared them to an elephant with fancy armor: „For the last time, I am not-!" he broke off as he noticed the golden laurel in the centurion's hands. That would explain why I can't reach him. Palutena mumbled as Dark Pit grabbed said laurel. „Where have you found this?" It didn't seem to be broken or anything. A few scratches here and there, yes, but nothing big.
We should really pick something less easy to fall off. Viridi said and the angel could hear the snark towards the goddess of light in her voice.
„In a bush of stinging-needles." With that, the centurion pointed to his fellow comrades and a big „field" of stinging-needles. Said comrades searched through the plants, hissing at the sharp pain running through their flesh. Dark Pit rolled his eyes at the sight before turning back to the first centurion: „Have you found anything else?" „Only a few heart-shards. Should we keep searching?" „Yes!" The angel snapped, his eyes burning out of annoyance. The big warrior flinched, nodded quickly and stomped back to the others.
Viridi? Can't you move the stinging-needles away?
Are you kidding? This is hilarious! I mean, look at them! Brave, imperturbable soldiers being taken down by such small and, might I add, adorable plants! It just goes to show that nature is still stronger than any other force.
It would make things a lot easier though.
„And it would make finding Pit a lot faster." Pittoo added and looked at the golden headgear in his hands. As his twin hit the first stone, which apparently caused him to unconscious, a sharp pain rushed through the dark angel. He still felt it in the back of his head and the goddess' voices were everything but smoothing. Urgh, alright... But only because I feeling nice today. With that, the plants moved the leaves moved away. The dark-winged angel stood up and stepped next to the centurions. The plants were slightly crushed. Some of the stems were cracked. Something or someone definitely landed here... Dark Pit leaned closer as he noticed prints on the ground that lead out of the gorge. He followed the hoof prints and leaned down. The prints were the size of his stretched out hand and they seemed new. „Centurions!" He lifted his voice and turned to them: „Follow those hoof prints! Tell me immediately when you see anything related to Pit, got it?" They nod and did as Dark Pit ordered them too. You should follow them too... Palutena advised causing Dark Pit to, yet again, sigh. You owe- „I know!" He snapped at the goddess and walked after the warriors. The little wings on their helmets buzzing like bee-wings. The angel huffed. Why can they fly with those wings, but his own refuse to work?
The dark-winged angel suddenly noticed a shadow. It was only in his peripheral vision but he noticed it. He sharply turned around. The shadow was flying over them, looking down. At first he thought it was just a bird, an eagle of some sort, but it was too big... He narrowed his eyes and drew his silvery bow. The shadow began circling over the gorge, their wings flapping from time to time. Dark Pit recalled that only vultures circled their prey... Vultures and harpies... Dark Pit had read books about them in case he needed to fight one so he knew most of their strategies when it comes to fighting. Harpies were notorious for killing their prey by first scratching said prey until they could no longer fly (if they couldn't to begin with that is) then lifting them in the air and letting them fall to their deaths. The books said their claws could easily cut cloth and skin. The angel got ready to shoot, focusing on his target and fired. The harpy yielded to the arrow and hissed. Yet, it didn't attack like Dark Pit had predicted. Was it waiting for the rest of their swarm to come? Why would they? The angel was alone since the centurions went without him. Was the winds too strong? He didn't know how strong harpy-wings were. They were definitely bigger than his own wings and perhaps that made them stronger. While angel wings are based on magic, harpy wings are mostly muscles and bones. Dark Pit shook his head. No time to think about that now!
The harpy still didn't attack. The angel tensed the bowstring and focused on his target. Sweat ran over his eyebrow as he let said bowstring go. The golden arrow flew through the air and hit the harpy. He heard it yelping before turning around. Dark Pit watched it fleeing, hoping it or any of their kind wouldn't come.