Ellen ran - she could not look back. The branches lashed and whipped her face, but a greater lashing, and a larger whip waited for her if she got caught. Her feet flew forward pulling her further away from the town. She was ahead of the angry mob, but their sounds overtook her in flight. The salutation of their raging shouts, fueled her resolve quickening her pace.

But she knew not where she was going. She was a leaf in the whirlwind of the forest. They must not catch her, or the treasure she had stolen. In the darkness of dusk Ellen could see a clearing up ahead, she burst towards it. She broke through the curtain of the trees gazing upon the stony stage.

The symetry of the twin stairs let her know what she must do. She clawed at the ground, tearing earth from earth. The roar of the vigilant mob frightened her, there was no reason for why they had not discovered her.

She quickly placed the treasure into the hole and without hesitation heaped the dirt she had displace back upon it. Suddenly the barren ground shook and blades of grass prickled through the dirt. Ellen cried out in alarm, and the furious mob closed in.

Ellen never spoke, though they hurt her for days. The treasure was nowhere to be found, and the earth was undisturbed throughout the sepulcher. But the grass upon the ground she entrusted it’s care to, still manifests gratitude.