War. A terrible thing. Though it is needed, sadly, to bring joy back again. We fought. Hard. I had to face Grease. Alone.
"You puny plushes! You just fight for simple things, like peace and happiness. You never realize how complicated the world is. You need power. That is why we have arisen. For power!" I unsheathed my claws and growled. "Very scary!" Grease said sarcastically. I lunged. Grease snarled and rolled me over, pinning me down with his newly sharpened claws. "There is no point in fighting me! Join us, and you will not be harmed!" I looked at the evil, black, arctic wolf, not believing he was a son of Mr. Fluffy, or that Mr. Fluffy was dark. I looked over Grease's shoulder at the mob of phantoms crowding the area and sighed.
Strangely, that simple sigh made me feel like a ghost of haunt had finally stopped, like a worrisome part of me had escaped. I knew we would win. I pushed over Grease and pinned him down. I let go, and purposely flung him down the canyon, not hearing the sound of him falling on ground yet. Though I still felt I knew something. I knew he would return, they would, evil would yet grow again. After seeing the possible death of his son, Mr. Fluffy whispered something to the rest of his army, and then turned to the army of phantoms. "Retreat!" he bellowed. The phantoms dissolved as if going back to to their evil domain, and Mr. Fluffy dived after his son, into the canyon. The rest ran, retreated. We had won.
'
