Sindri didn't have a heads-up. Perhaps there had been a scream, perhaps she'd been too lost in her own thoughts to hear it, but of all things that might've summoned the evening rose.... it was simply the faint smell of blood and the clacking of shifting rocks on an early morning walk. Confusion warped the calm, drizzly morning, and the short yearling blinked as her senses struggled to piece it all together. Her paws carried her faster.

Her charcoal gaze fell on Bragi, sweet, poor Bragi... digging.

She couldn't tell if the smell of blood came from the sister, or her nephew... who should've been right there, standing beside his adoptive family.

Where was he?

A quiet, strangled wail left her, and she sprung forward to help clear the rubble. She didn't say anything -- what could she say? Asking questions didn't help move the stones from his body. Knowing how he got here was, for the moment, irrelevant.

Even Astraios fluttered down with a distressed screech and clawed at a few small pebbles, very helpful indeed.