"Enough!" Viperbite, Frostnose's grieving mate, stood up and glared at the protesting cats. "Mudthroat is right. We can't . . . she wouldn't want . . ." He sucked in a deep breath. "Frostnose wouldn't want us to get sick because we buried her. Mudthroat will bury her after a vigil." He turned to me. "Any rules on that?"