Sawtooth Spire racing in my mind, doing 100 in a 60

Stag came as quickly as he could, the alarm in his heart carrying his legs far faster than anything he had ever seen.

He exploded on the scene scarcely able to read the room; he noted the wailing child, the confused Star -- the absence of Mahler or Wylla. His breath was ragged, as he had not been near when he first heard Phaedra's wails. 

He glanced from the gravid form of Star, back to the girl pushing from her embrace. Wordlessly he pulled himself close, eyes somber and searching for whatever thorn it was in Phaedra's heart that nicked her so. He knew outwardly she seemed fine, and so he allowed his racing heart to settle -- and yet still, alarm coursed its way through his frame, as if at any minute the hammer would fall.