SMASH GAMES 2: CHAOS | Super Smash Bros.

14 - The Pink Puff

Little Mac 

They'd been walking for what seemed like forever, but they still hadn't gotten anywhere. Not that he'd been any help, navigation-wise-he'd been staring blankly at Pinkie's trophy from where it was tucked under Palutena's arm, still a little queasy over what had happened. He was surprised that Palutena'd had the mettle to trophy the little pink thing-once he'd seen the big blue eyes and innocent expression, all the fight had kinda drained out of him. 

Were there more people like that out here in these woods? Innocent-looking people that he'd be forced to turn into trophies? The thought made him feel ill. Maybe he'd take Palutena out as a wingman on those hunts, have her pull the trigger instead of him. 

Speaking of, the tall, green-haired lady was supposed to be guiding them back to the Barracks, but if the rapidly setting sun was any indication, she wasn't doing a very good job. 

"Hey!" Little Mac snapped, poking her in the back with a boxing glove. "Palutena! Are we going the right way?" 

She didn't answer-he circled around her to see that her eyes were at half-mast and were staring straight ahead. Little Mac fumed. Nope, scratch that. He wasn't going to have somebody that would stand around in a daze and watch him get shot up be his wingman. 

Little Mac grabbed her hand and yanked her to a halt. "Hey!" he shouted again, forcing her to look down at him. "Are you awake in there, Palutena? I asked you if we're going the right way!" 

She gave him that annoyed look of hers again before looking back up into the sky. "Storm's coming," she muttered. 

Little Mac huffed and looked down at his locator. He blanched and then turned red. "We're...we're going the wrong way!" he snarled, stamping his foot. "The barracks are north, moron! North! We're going east!" 

"Storm's coming," Palutena said again, her golden eyes falling to the earth.  

Egad, this lady was a head case. Little Mac thought that she should consider herself lucky that he didn't turn his trophy gun on her. "Okay," he said, trying to breathe out his annoyance. "We're going east, but the barracks are north. That means to get back to that point we have to go..." He turned slowly, watching how his map shifted on his watch as he did so. "Northwest." He nodded to himself. Northwest. That would be shorter than cutting back west and then heading north. 

Against his better judgment, he grabbed Palutena's arm and shoved her in front of him. "Go on," he snapped. At least if she was in front of him, he couldn't leave her behind. He watched her for a moment, at the way she moved forward in a daze, glancing around with dilated eyes like she was dizzy. Seriously, something was wrong with her. Maybe the Doc was right and it was that purple juice they'd all been guzzling? After all, look at what the junk had done to that Rosalina chick.  

But if it was the juice, why wasn't Little Mac puking or stumbling around like a head case? Better yet, why weren't the other players? 

They continued northwest, moving at a steady pace through the trees. Little Mac kept an eye on the sun as they went-it was well past dusk, and everything in sight was bathed in the setting sun's blood-red rays. It grew steadily colder, and Little Mac's nose and jaw began to sting from the chill. He couldn't wait to get back to the barracks and jump into bed.  

A twig snapped somewhere nearby. Little Mac ignored it, figuring that Palutena had probably stepped on a fallen branch somewhere ahead of him, but a suddenly rustling sound from behind him made him freeze. He turned, giving the area a wide sweep. Nothing but gloom. 

Behind him, Palutena stopped. "What is it?" she asked. 

Little Mac glanced at her and scowled. Are you awake or aren't you? He thought to himself.