I went around the garden, looking for something to fight with. A Company agent grabbed my wrist and turned me around. "Where do you think you're going?" he said with a pompous scowl.
"Let go, or I will hurt you," I warned him.
"Oh, yeah? What could you possibly do with those dainty little hands?"
This infuriated me. I picked up a nearby rock, flew about ten feet in the air, aimed carefully, and dropped the rock on the agent's head. As he slipped to the ground unconscious, I yelled down, "Oh, dear, I think that rock just fell out of my dainty little hands."
Dropping things from high up seemed to be an effective fighting technique. I found some twigs and used a power that all pixies had: shaping plants to meet our needs. With my newly formed darts, I flew over a few agents and took them down with a shot to the neck. From my higher vantage point, I found what I had been looking for earlier: a shovel. I swooped down to grab it and started bashing in some Company heads.