The scent of mint filled the air, bringing a smile to Mintha's face. She lowered her nose to the delicate plants and inhaled slowly before moving on to another plant. The meadow stretched out around her, a wild garden in the heart of the woods.
Weeds full of medicinal and magical properties grew in her meadow, all tended by her careful hand. In the center, most special of all, grew the prize of her collection. Touched by the hands of the Gods, it was said that the seed that fell here came from the narcissus Kore dropped when taken to the Underworld. The beautiful cup was a golden yellow, a king among flowers. The trees grew away from the clearing, knowing not to encroach on it's bit of sunlight.
Mintha sang out to her charges as she sat beside them, plaiting dandelions in her hair. A swift breeze skittered through the trees whispering a warning. Mintha fell silent and so did the forest, waiting to see what would happen. A sharp noise turned her around, peering into the underbrush. Animals and Fae had come to her for healing, for companionship, but neither would scare the forest into silence. Humans rarely found their way with their clumsy feet and hard hands. But only humans would cause such a silence. She held her breath, staring at the opening between trees.
They began swaying in agitation. The leaves trembled and stirred as if a fitful wind was pushing against them.
"Run," they whispered. "Run.:
Mintha stood, yellow blossoms falling from her hands. Men stomped out of the forest in all directions, hands filled with shovels and buckets. There was no where to run.
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