The arrival of the other Elite, mixed with the fact that none of the others seem irreparably damaged, lowers Bristletuft's hackles. Thank Noctus for little miracles.
"Duskwater?" She squints briefly, then confirms her identification and moves on quickly. "Badger attack. No serious injuries." The Elite gestures with a foot to the strip of bloody pelt on the cave floor. "We're leaving right now. I'll lead with you as rear-guard to keep an eye on the group." She looks over the other Sentinels and nods sharply. "Right. Order: Sandstorm, Arbutus, Ename. Keep your ears open when we're out there, and be ready to react quickly. Ename is right-- take some bats if you think you can manage them. The Clan will need food."
Shaking her feathers out, the large female turns to the mouth of the cave, grabbing the pelt "trophy" in one foot as she goes, and a few bats in the other foot. Without looking back, the Elite launches herself past Duskwater, out into the storm. Getting to a more appropriate shelter will not be easy, but they should be able to manage it without any losses now that the weather is easing. But still, it will be a long, long night-- for everyone.
