your poker face ain't fooling nobody

Rhyme said her name again, and whatever mission he was on seemed to leak out of him. He stopped moving and almost instantly he slumped onto his haunches, as if his will to even so much as sustain himself had left with his goal.

"Rhyme," Samara began, she took a few tentative steps towards him. The woman wanted nothing more than to rush to him, to start pulling the mud from his fur, to feel the warmth of his body and to try and pull him back to reality. Her heart was breaking and she was almost afraid he'd hear it. "Rhyme, what happened?" She had to know, had to start somewhere, her voice felt so weak, wavering under the strain of her worry. Her fear.

By the look of him, something terrible. She suddenly worried for his children, had any more of them gone missing? Or worse? Was Abaven still standing?

"Speak!" Think!