Neverwinter Forest when the stars threw down their spears

"She disappeared," said Valiant.

He'd been drawn to the edge of the hated forest by familiar, mournful cries. He'd always found the other male sort of uppity and pathetic, but he still felt sorry for the guy. In another life, perhaps they would have been family. Instead, Valiant had hardly any family left to speak of.

White Elk swung around to face him, tears streaking messily down his dirty cheeks.

"What?"

"Callyope," he said, his eyes tracing the bedraggled features of the younger man. He felt bad for being the one, once again, to deliver such news. Last time it had been that Callyope was married, and the time before that, that Ariadne was dead. Now, he feared that another sister faced the same fate. "No one's seen her for months. Solharr moved the pack to the quarry."

He's moving on. That remained unspoken, but it was clear from White Elk's expression that he understood — Callyope was not expected to return.

"Her parents died, just a few weeks ago," Valiant went on, his voice heavy, filling in all the tender cracks of the other man's silence. "The pack's in shambles. Vai's still sick. Things've been tough all around. At Moonspear, too."

Valiant sat beside White Elk. They both stared off into the dark woods.