[plum]

[ open reaction to Lotuspaw's death ]

Nectarflame stepped out of the dirtplace tunnel a little later than she had hoped, having heard commotion and despair mid-push. There was not really any way around that, though, was there.

Her eyes locate Cinderstar first, inspecting her for any sign of injury. No... She only appeared tired, sad, angry. That was about right. Letting out a sigh, the golden warrior skirts around the group. She would not try to get close to the body being displayed, she would not try to touch their pelt as she said her farewell. They were not close, and she would not offend. Her respects would be paid properly.

The mention of a patrol surfaces and a small alarm bell tinkles in her mind. Flicking her ears, Nectarflame shoots the silver she-cat a look. The idea itself was not a terrible one, but the expression which her mate wore while promoting it was what stood out to her. It was wrong. She was angry. Cats died on the flighty paws of fury. "No," she murmurs to no one other than herself.

Another heartbeat later, Nectarflame shakes her head a little more clearly. "I will remain and assist the Clan from camp, then," she meows tersely. "If Sundust or Rosepaw need an extra set of paws."