The Elf and the Queen of Voles

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when a little vole with a red cape and a wee tiara popped out of a hole in the ground, twitched its nose and put a tiny paw to its furrowed brow.

"Daylight over the hole! O breeze! Sorrow!
Exposed and plain visible! Poor me!
To walk the roof of the world tomorrow
Here today, to find me in prison free!
O, woe, woe, woe, woe, woe, woe, woe is me!"

"Howdy, Ms. Vole!" Etwas greeted with a wave.  But the vole's eyes moistened and she lifted her little nose high into the air, changing the tiny left front paw on her brow with its opposite against the bridge of her nose.

"Queen Ahmy Dala, I am known below
Yet here in frost above it isn't so.
The voles forget and the elves- they don't know
To call me 'Our Highness' is naught- O woe!"

"Um, ok, your majesty.  Good day to you, I mean, our Highness and whatnot."

The old vole bowed as though pierced from behind.

"That which is day arrives yet overland
The sun rises and darken's my spirit!
In dim and dank caverns, my title grand,
We rejoice who now cries. You might hear it.
Alas, I weep for my hole- yet fear it!" By now both of the voles hands were outstretched away from her shaking trunk, as though tied by taught leathers to trees in opposite forests where owls hunted and foxes preyed.

"Um," offered Etwas, hoping to be helpful, "Your hole is right underneath you.  In fact you're standing in it."

A darkness crept into the poor Vole Queen's eyes.

"Forsaken no more, joy!" Queen Dala chirped. "Below! Below!" And she dove back down where she had appeared a few mere laments ago.  The elf watched her tail disappear and sighed.

And ever since then, Etwas leaves alone the tails of those who are already dragged.