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The concept of 'goods protection' was still soaring securely above Pyxis' head, but he supposed that he should thank Domino nonetheless. That sad face kind of made him want to make a sadder face, and he knew all about getting caught in a loop of miserable faces. There was no time for that now.

"Well, um, I'm usual, so thank you! I think I must've gotten confused." He had very little time to consider whether or not this was an acceptable course of action before he felt himself plucked up and placed on their tallest team member's shoulders. Though he was a little startled by this, he could only laugh, pleased with this new vantage point.

"Hooray, thank you! Now we can be double safe!" he chirped, smoothing out the bits of the canine's hair he'd messed up on the way to his shoulders. Couldn't have anything out of place. It was a well timed adjustment, apparently, as a ghoul was approaching them. She seemed friendly. Most importantly, she didn't look like she was stealing their things to eat them. But...

He gasped, bringing his fingers slowly up to barely cover his mouth.

"Ohhh, goodness, miss...I don't mean to intrude, but your hand is not in a hand place," he observed, quieting his voice to a stage whisper at best. He didn't want to offend her, which...probably meant he should be kind enough to introduce everyone.

"Hi, though! I'm Pyxis, and this," he stopped to look down and pet Colonel Woof's ears, "Is President Pupnik, and that," he pointed cheerfully at his fellow candy connoisseur, "Is Domino! And we're trying not to let our stuff get eaten and also not let ourselves get eaten by punching things! We're gonna win!"

He didn't realize he'd gotten a little too excited until he clapped his hands together and almost lost his balance. He steadied himself, chewing his lip in complete concentration, and flashed a smile when he was a-okay again. Then quickly poked a lollipop into a slightly higher orbit, hoping to avoid a sticky situation between his candy and his carrier's hair.

"You should come too! We can fight eat-y shadow things with styyyle!" Hopeful, he blinked down at her, flakes of shimmering dust falling from his lashes to his cheeks.

Edgar felt overwhelmed. The effort it was taking to fight these shadowlings off just felt like far too much. Those who were fighting them off really didn't seem to be making much headway against them and it was really frustrating. The zombie boil managed to fling away the attacking one, though it hardly seemed to do anything. Was it even worth it to keep trying? He wondered, glancing around.

Before he could decide whether to not to bug Domino more, the annoyingly ear piercing scratchiness of the Ickycom interrupted his train of thought. Go to the nearest exit? Huh. He guessed they weren’t just dealing with a small-scale pest infestation here. And as the little gremlings faded and were replaced with bigger ones, the serious of the situation began to settle in... Sort of. Part of his brain was still rocking out to Muttley Crue, and might be permanently lost.

But Hairwolf was pleased; Pyxis was such a good passenger. He practically purred when the ghost’s fingers ran over his lovely locks, except that dogs don’t purr. Nope. They did however stare curiously when new ghouls in brightly coloured clothing approached. Or rather, exploded in their general direction. At first glance it might seem as though he were giving Vi a rather indecent glare as she joined them but what he was really thinking was, a) where can I get that shirt and b) would it flatter my midriff? And also, who does your hair?

But instead of voicing his many, many questions, he waved as Pyxis and Domino made introductions for their squad. The werewolf smiled sweetly at the little ghoul, some part of him wondering when his quest for rockin’ tunes had turned into adventures in babysitting.

“Hold on,” he warned Pyxis, grasping one of the ghost’s legs tightly with one arm and reaching to pull Domino back to his feet with the other. His lack of free hands left him unable to swat at the swarming shadowlings and he had no choice but to try and usher their group to a less occupied area.

“We should find somewhere to take cover, dudes and dudettes. We’re sitting ducks out here.”

Healing? "Oh....Oh vait!" His fists loosened from his sides and he held a hand up at the boil who retreated away from him, then scowled before smacking himself in the forehead. "Dumkopff. He vas trying to help you. Ach!" He began shaking his head, then stopped, and turned.

"DANKE!" There, he had thanked him, which was really what he should have probably done to begin with. Unfortunately, Mathias had always been quicker to act and react then to think.

But anyways, back to kicking arsch!

....Where did all the arsch go?

The intercom had him tilting his head back to look around at the ceiling, the floor shaking had him looking back down again at his feet, his wings ruffling up slightly in alarm as his ears twitched in every direction imaginable.

And then there was more arsch, though this arsch was bigger then the last arsch he had encountered.

"It is about time!" He stepped forward, claws at the ready. Who even cared that these things were pretty much the same size as him? He threw himself at the nearest one with wild abandon.

And promptly got his own arsch handed to him. How embarrassing.

Alastair's ears twitched as the Ickycom sounded with an urgent request. "No need to tell me twice." Haven given up waiting for Van's attention the demon adjusted the bags in his hand and prepared to leave. Of course it isn't that simple. The ground began to shake and soon enough countless yellow eyes were peeking at him. "What the... Are they getting bigger?!"

A tune caught Alastair's attention, a tune which sounded almost like the howl of a puppy. With this realization he knew just where the source was and turned towards Van. Mister Lion Priss? "Well, it's an improvement at least. What do you want, mongrel?" As he came closer he noticed the stranger had been injured. Wishing to avoid getting his clothes stained with Van's blood, Alastair stopped approaching and kept himself at a safe distance. "They're making a meal out of you, aren't they?" He sighed, resting his face in his palm at the pathetic sight of a wounded pup.

"Like I said before, I'm not in the mood for babysitti-" The shadowlings attacked, clamping onto his bags and tearing them from Alastair's grip. The contents spilled across the floor as another little beast snapped at his ankle. The lion yelped and viciously retaliated against the mysterious shadowlings until they fled back into the darkness.

Cervantes was feeling sorry for himself-- quite sorry, in fact. He hadn't even managed to locate Mister Lion, and when he had, the Prissy Lion was too busy monitoring his shopping bags and being a jerk. When the Shadows ripped his bags open, Van just snorted, and then started to laugh outright. "You deserved that, Prissy Lionface!" Van taunted, then giggled. Sort of. It was a puppy version of a giggle, anyway. Laughing made him hurt more, also he realized he was really really hungry and the jerk wasn't going to give him any food at all, or even any sympathy!

NO FOOD AT ALL! MISTER PRISS IS A MONSTER, he thought to himself. Hungry and dejected, Van flopped onto the floor in the middle of the onslaught.

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Until his ears perked up, as he heard that boil he'd healed earlier call something out, and assumed it was for him, looking over, his little ears flopping to the side. "You're welcome!!" he called out, enthusiastically. Apparently, that tiny bit of praise was all he needed to perk right back up. Van was to his feet in an instant, brushing himself off, and bounding over to Touchstone with a skidding halt.

"Hello, ambiguous friend! I've come to test my magic fingers!" Van declared. "But I'm still hungry," he added, with a grumble in his voice and then a sad puppy whimper, "and I could really use a burrito?" he suggested, ears flat against his head, peering up at Touchstone with wide puppy eyes.

As if anyone had a burrito, amidst this many shadow creatures, in the middle of a fight. But he totally forgot about healing, because he was busy being a pathetic puddle of sad puppy.

"Oh right you wanted to know what my name is! I like made-up names, though," he said, his tail swishing back together, mood suddenly suspiciously perkier than before. "If you're not up to the challenge, though, I guess you can call me Van. I guess," he added, sad again. Fake sad, this time.

Arynek was given a mission by her Uchitels to go the the maul to buy some scareberry jam for tomorrow's breakfast. So the timid shy ghoul wore her dark cloak as usual and dodge the crowd as she can. Then, she heard screams and people rushing towards her, escaping for their lives. Arynek blinked her eyes twice, without any idea of what was happening. She looked around at the rather free open place she was standing now and found herself surrounded by many many yellow eyed creatures.

So cute!

"Hello there, are you new-born shadow?" She asked one of them shyly.

What's that? It's a boil! Arnyek blushed quickly and tried to move unnoticeably away from the hellhound as he was not looking.

"No......they won't. They....are ....so cute...." She muttered in an awkward way. Someone helps her! No boils, no boil please!