"Come along!" Milda called brightly, following the press and push of Sabrina's paws in her back, the cavedweller stepped out onto the gently swaying bridge without a care in the world. She couldn't, of course, actually see just how long the bridge ahead of her stretched, nor how the cables and planks seemed to have seen better days.

She sniffed the air, the whiskered end of her muzzle twitching, morphing the soft spots that dotted her hide into strange, more irregular shapes. Smelled like sulfur, as the earthen furnace always did. But she could taste the weight of empty space on the air too. The chasm that the bridge must stretch across, the tilt of crispness with so much free flowing air.

Her heightened senses heard the sway of the bridge, the creak of the planks, the gentle rubbing of rope against stone. The bridge was intact then! Mostly… since it still clung to either side and swayed - that was all Milda needed to know.

Besides, the small procession of restless spirits behind her did not need a place to set their hooves (or their feet, she supposed, Milda could hear that not all moaned at her from the same height, not all of them tasted the same, smelled quite like one another.) Happily, Milda was positive she had a menagerie following behind her.

The Harvester should be pleased.

A shift in the air, and Milda's sing-song voice called out, "Trevorrr!" She'd given all the spirits names. Whether or not they belonged to them was another story. "Stop wandering off," she chided in an amicably exasperated tone. The spirit, which she had decided was some kind of toad creature, rumbled a low sound, but she was fairly certain she smelled his return to her procession.

"Alright team! One at a time. Arthur, you lead the way." Milda picked on the closest spirits, and he drifted past her without complaint.

One by one, toad, humanoid, some feathered being she was sure, traipsed their way across the bridge, all of them slowly making their way back to the Harvester under Milda's guidance.

This was her favourite time of year. When the Harvester returned, and Milda decided to wander the dungeon in search of souls. Sabrina was a homebody of course, and Milda had a nice little set up deeper in the dungeon. She did not often merely adventure for the sake of adventuring.

It meant too, that when Xochitl came to visit (a loose term that would have been more accurately defined as 'Milda scenting them in her corridors and seeking him out before they could escape her'), she was always home. That Star always had a soft bed, warm food, to return to.

But the harvest moon would wane soon enough. The soul vines retract back into the dungeon whence they came. And Milda would cosy on back to her home and ready herself for visitors.

Miiiildaaaa, came the drawn out moan of one of the spectres, drawing her attention.

"Oh!" They were nearly all across. "Thank you, Gerald, dear."

She nosed at the largest of the ghosts, her whiskers passing through him, but she was sure he understood it for affectionate thanks none the less. His repeat of Miiilldaa was certainly gentler this time.

"Alright gentlefolks!" She called brightly, stepping onto the bridge, and quickly side stepping when Sabrina's claws dug sharply into her back, to prevent her hoof from falling straight through an empty hole in the bridge's slats. "The Harvester awaits!" She called brightly and carried onward.