Ever since the infestation of spirits, Morgan found himself hiding in his cave nearly all the time for days. When the event first occurred, he had something of a sensory overload. The auras of thousands upon thousands of beings exploded out of the earth at once, filling the samoyed's mind with far too many images to comprehend. He crawled to his original abode out of pain, where the vast amount of saltwater nearby was enough to repel the ghosts for the time being.

After taking some days to recover, the canine brought himself to leave his hiding spot out of some sense of duty. For the first time in quite a while, he formed a thick, full set of ice armor out of the sea's water, as well as a pair of large pikes of ice. Tossing aside any thoughts of wasting any more time, he pulled a wave forward from behind himself. The water gathered around the samoyed, then blasted forward to allow him to cut through the forest at a high speed. He was as determined as ever to help out any Tanglers in need, even if it hurt him. As he passed by the Crater, he shuddered as he sensed the aura of post-death emanating from the cracks that had appeared there. He reached the town in a brief minute, landing in front of the broken statue in the square.

Suddenly, the General was hit by a wave of sensory information. Even if he was not near the crater, he could feel the presences of a massive amount of others all at once. He cringed and felt a bit faint; he had only been used to sensing a few Tanglers at a time, but the spirits had clearly overrun the town with immense numbers.

A chilling feeling hit Morgan next as his mind began to parse the auras of those nearby. They were more than just familiar; he whispered, eyes shutting. The ice around him flickered like a cold fire as his breath quickened. These ghosts were not foreigners. They were not even all particularly ancient. The dog gasped out a breath of surprise as his deductions were answered.

Not one, not two, but at least twenty Tanglers' voices echoed out around him. A huge mob of apparitions appeared in a circle, each one appearing scarred, battered, and maimed. The startled dog found no words to answer with, no justifications for any actions of lack thereof. To his silence, the disgusting spirits replied with force. Several ghostly animals tackled him all at once, screeching as they collided with his armor. They phased through it and bit into him, leaving an unusual pain with no marks and causing Morgan to yell.

Yet, he was not the only one hurt; the former Tanglers screamed in a garbled, distorted unison not unlike nails on a chalkboard. The armor had burned them, badly. Their already mangled, grotesque forms then boasted ugly scars across their faces where they had touched the saltwater armor, which rattled the General even more. The angry Tanglers did not care, for the leader was clearly the target of their hatred.

But his plea fell on deaf ears. A familiar Tangler emerged from the crowd, his announcement of the outdated term surprising the samoyed. Once again, he had no response, and received a searing swipe across the face. He nearly picked up one of his pikes to attack back with, but held himself back completely as his muscles tightened up. He had no desire to hurt those whom he had already hurt with the pain of death, so he did not fight back as more and more of the apparitions threw themselves at him to attack. His screaming barks could be heard all over the town nearby as the spirits hacked and slashed at him.

(TL;DR: A big group of Tanglers who had disappeared and died since Morgan became leader have come back to torture him. He kinda needs a lot of help since he's been stricken by guilt and won't use his saltwater weapons to hurt them yet.)

Morgan was in a world of pain that only grew as time went by. He could hear Delilah on the other side of the crowd, to whom he yelled, "Go! They'll -- hurt you!" To confirm his claim, a small part of the group moved toward the pink living Tangler, intent on attacking her when they got their chance. The crowd still focused on the General, however, and continued their assault on his body as parts of his armor melted away.

Next came Arrow, whose cutting words only made the samoyed even more aware of his guilt. he thought, striking and shaking the ground with a paw. Once again, his armor took the appearance of white-seafoam flames, scaring away a few of the spirits. Meanwhile, a few others headed toward Arrow to make her their next target.

The canine knew Arrow was right. He had to do something, but the entire situation was too much for him. His breathing was erratic, and so his icy armor continued to lick the air uselessly. He still felt the presences of a huge crowd of presences, all of their combined malice forming a disgusting cloud that filled Morgan's senses. On top of it all, the pain all over was increasing as more ghosts took potshots at him. Unable to take much more, he found himself shaking under the weight of his armor before it evaporated into the faux-fire.

Before long, Morgan was already lying on his side on the ground. The dead Tanglers were still attacking him then, bringing him to the verge of vomiting. Yet, the pain tapered off almost as quickly as it began once a familiar voice boomed over the scene. As the demon appeared, the apparitions stepped back and away in what seemed to be fear. The General gasped and coughed, his mind losing focus as things turned hazy with his uneven breaths. He closed his eyes for what felt like only a second before he felt a paw touch his, the voice accompanying it with a calmer tone.

Morgan whispered, clearly having trouble speaking. He opened one eye to see his beloved savannah, opening the other one to match his gaze as requested. Indeed, the reflective pools of black brought immediate comfort to the samoyed, who could not help staring deep into them. Without the constant pain hitting him anymore, he was able to nod, determined to follow the Captain's instructions. As he began to breathe with Vigenere, Morgan let his senses extend themselves, feeling a distinct warmth among the coolness of the ice that reformed in a ring around the pair from his twin pikes. The haze in his mind dissipated little by little as he focused only on his boyfriend's aura.

He could feel everything then - rather, he could feel everything he needed to feel. He let his tongue flop out to muster up a loving smile. He could not speak, so he thought, hoping his partner would hear him somehow. One last conscious breath found its way in and out of him; the earth shook and cracked as ice blasted outward in a ring of cold flames, enveloping the majority of the crowd of ghosts at once. A gust of wind followed the ice ring, throwing clouds of dust all over the area. Delilah's bundle of sage was immediately lit on fire, which turned from seafoam green to its usual color upon contact with the herb.

Screams of tortured, burning pain escaped each of the afflicted deceased Tanglers, who began to flee for their un-lives. Some of the few who remained were paralyzed, trembling as they looked down at their burned appearances. Several still remained unharmed, but their numbers had dwindled to only a handful. Some avoided Delilah, however, seeing as she was holding a potential weapon.

In the aftermath of the elemental blast that had come out of Morgan's collapsed body, the ghosts were utterly terrified by Vigenere's brief display of power. The nearest ones were shocked, shaking and distorting before falling into the ground. All the others headed for Renegadeanthem and Arrow next, launching themselves toward the two but stopping short.

The effects of Delilah's sage were already beginning to hit the spirits, who froze in their tracks before turning tail to run. However, it was too late; the ones caught close enough to her sank into the ground, returning to the abyss whence they came. The rest fled the scene, repelled. It was likely not a permanent solution, but it was effective enough for the time being. In any case, the advent of Delilah's apparent powers could definitely be helpful for later.

Morgan did not yet stir, but he was stable. After his final, cathartic assault on the undead Tanglers, the General was calm enough to appear asleep. His boyfriend had helped immensely; without his appearance, the wild ghosts may have caused even more damage to all the nearby Tanglers. Morgan's body had previously been shaking from the sheer unadulterated pain he experienced, but it stopped once Vigenere stood above him for some time. Of course, the unconscious samoyed still needed to be brought somewhere. Even if the square was somewhat safe, the exposure to the elements was a bit of a risk.