Cobwebs and mold might be the death of Sylvia. The dungeon corridor was one of her least favorite places to clean but someone had to do it and that brave and hardworking someone was her. There was a soft duster in her hand as she tackled the cobwebs as she sang a happy tune. There was nothing quite like a song to help with chores particularly if it involved this dark corridor. One of her kneazles, Melody who had accompanied her, brushed gently against her ankles. Soon she was forgetting that she was working in this creepy corridor.