He never expected the heaviness in his heart to weigh him down like a ton of bricks, each step as if his paws were cast in iron and chained. He knew what she was getting into; he had learned, with time spent at her side, that there was no arguing with her once she made up her mind. He had been internally screaming for her to yield, to listen to reason, but deep down he understood her motivation. Yet when the news hit, having been rung victoriously through every excited maw until it landed upon the ears of the Monarchy, he found it hit him as if an anvil had been unleashed from the heavens, its target the immovable boyar. He padded to his usual place in the common area of the encampment, his steps slow and purposeless. He was grieving, as they all were, but he knew hope still lingered within some hearts. Perhaps she'll come back, our valiant angel of death, they whispered. Others, who had awaited the demise of the tsar with eager eyes and grasping claws, kept their mouths smartly shut. He couldn't tell what danger would unfold had he witnessed their retorts and the gossip that would spread amongst them.

Taking a seat and shakily curling his tail around his paws, the white tom turned his face up, his green eyes watery. He needed to be strong for his people in this moment and the time to come. He was their leader now; they relied on him to be a role model, a pillar of strength, and their ultimate protector. He would be their shield until another – his eyes slid to the black she-cat at the edge of the clearing – was ready to take his place.

"Brothers and sisters... Friends and family. I call you here to confirm a rumor that has driven through our way of life like a brand. It is an unfortunate wound to wield, but like all things, time will allow us to heal." He inhaled a deep breath to quiet the warble in his voice and still the tremble of his lower lip. "Tasman E'Clair is dead. She was slain by the Pride Clans." He cast his lidded green gaze upon every soul within his range of vision, "I ask that this night not be spent in anger or thoughts of revenge. There will be a time and a place for such things. For now, I ask that we give this night to honor our fallen tsar and give her our thanks. She was a valiant soldier, a caring ruler, and a most devoted ally. She was there for us through thick and thin; a rising underdog in her own story. She wormed her way into all of our hearts and we will never forget her. I ask that we have a moment of silence, to honor her passing and the legend she has left behind."

He bowed his head, closing his eyes and inhaling a quiet, shaky breath. A tear threatened to trail from the corner of his eye down his cheek, but he clenched his jaw. Not now.