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Before Lloyd, Morro did not have a ton of experience possessing anybody. At least not for that long. He was either trapped in the Cursed Realm or never saw reason to. It was as simple as that.
There was a lot he'd forgotten about existing as a human. After all, his time in death far exceeded his time in life by now. He lived 15 years. Almost 16, really. A shame. And he's been a ghost for 35? 40? Maybe even close to 50? Who keeps count? That would be depressing, and he has far better things to do. But yeah: the human body is so inconvenient. An absolute trainwreck of a design, in his humble opinion. Having your muscles feel like lead. Running out of breath so, so easily. Heck, even having to breathe. And don't get him started on how he literally almost pissed himself in front of the others once because he figured he'd "deal with that irritation later.”
Then there's having to waste so much of the day "eating" and "sleeping". But he didn't properly do those. He kinda forgot sometimes. Force of habit. Is that why he felt so slow in that thing?
Speaking of eating: the first time he had to actually make food for himself again was...an experience. One he was glad to be alone for.
He searched Lloyd's mind for recipes. Something fairly simple to go off of. When it came time for the actual cooking, he permitted Lloyd to have just enough control back over his arms and hands to get the job done. It would have been a disaster otherwise. He tried to take a bite, not expecting anything groundbreaking. He almost instantly began shaking as the smell of the food grew stronger. He had to take a couple minutes to recompose. You see, ghosts lack 3 of the 5 senses that people have. They can't taste. They can't touch. They can't smell. And there was something about this in particular that had Morro on edge.
Once he was finally able to eat, he understood why. He then cursed himself inwardly. How could he forget who Lloyd happens to be related to? As soon as the food hit his lips, he recognized it as (what was) his favorite meal. The first thing Wu had ever made him after taking him in. He hated that he still found it delicious. He hated that it still felt like home, despite the fact that he'd long since rejected the monastery.
He told Lloyd that if he ever cooked that again he'd gladly discorporate them both.
Even if he knew the other boy didn't know, he was now stressed. He had to lay down. Breathing started becoming more difficult, and he was getting shaky again. No. No. No. NO.
He couldn't even recognize that much until it smacked him in the face. What other information did he lose? What else didn't he know about himself anymore? What did he even do in his spare time when he was alive? Who were his friends? Did he even have any? Hard as he tried, all he knew was a dream, a desire for vengeance, and...that time. The Caves of Despair. He shuddered thinking about it.
Maybe this is what it meant to be among the cursed. And suddenly, he realized he did not wish this on the ninjas. After all, he didn't hate them. He actually quite liked them. They were tenacious. Innovative. Funny. Weird. Just the kind of people he would have called friends if he had any. Only they were in the way, and that was an issue. But this? No. No. Not this. This was beyond anything even he would want to put them through. So, after some time, he made a choice.