Should you find my soul (open!)

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[attr="class","text"]In the business of newleaf, Boulderheart had seen little of his siblings. Falconclaw and Cinderstep, both adept hunters, had been spending more and more time stockpiling the prey pile, plumping up clan bellies through squirrels and robins. As a more… hunting-challenged member of SkyClan, he had been less involved in parties and patrols lately, which, on the positive side, left plenty more time for adventures. Although not one to find himself down about, well, anything, the broad-shouldered tom did feel a slight twinge of remorse in his chest. When they were kits, the three had been inseparable, even with his brother’s constant withering stares and exasperated huffs (ah, what a guy). Now, as adulthood began, their lives took on a more dutiful, tightly-scheduled air. Well, for Cinder and Falcon, anyway. Boulder still did his best to avoid the heavy lifting - preferring to take on the role of ‘jolly mascot trotting behind the quarterback’ during warrior duties.

On this particular day, the grey warrior, upon returning from a morning patrol, had been out bird watching. Had he caught any of them, it would have bene referred to as bird hunting but alas, he was empty pawed. Though, he had spotted the location of three birds’ nests, which was vital information to the clan. Not that he had climbed up to investigate and potentially snag a couple eggs or two, though. Actually, come to think of it - he couldn’t exactly remember where those nests were…

Down by the river, right? A couple fox lengths to the right of that rose bush? Or was it a few tails from the weeping willow? Oh, foxdung. The memories slipped from his grasp.

Well, at least he tried! And that in itself deserved a reward.

Setting a course to a juicy squirrel he imagined to be sitting on the fresh kill pile back at camp, Boulderheart began his prance home, paws light and pace leisurely. He even hummed a quiet tune, mumbling words to himself as he swished across the forest floor. Lovely day, it was.

A strange scent crossed his path just as he was coming up to a looming oak tree and curious, Boulder took to investigate it. It hardly smelled like any clan cat he knew, with earthy hues and unkept wildness. Was an intruder trespassing on SkyClan territory? He followed his nose up the bark of the tree, climbing onto his back paws, front ones perched against the trunk, to get a better look. He peered into the shadowy darkness of the foliage, poised to confront whatever threat lurked above.

However, as his eyes adjusted to the light, Boulderheart picked out a familiar face. Half-face! Of course! How did he not notice this before? Man, did he ever look… unkept. Feral. With an impossibly cheery tone, the young tom called up in surprise,

“Woah there, Half-face!” he chuckled, a hearty, care-free sound, “I could’ve sworn you were a stranger! Cool tree you have here!” He squinted up at the older cat, waving his tail as he spoke. Although the entirety of SkyClan knew the story of the once deputy, Boulder hardly kept up with clan politics, listening to the tale once and then shrugging with nonchalantness. He was still a fresh apprentice when it all occurred, so the gossip only felt relevant for a day or two before something new arose. He was always nice to Boulderheart, so the tom saw no reason not to be now.

“I’m liking the windswept look on you! I couldn’t pull it off but it sure looks great on you.” There was not a hint of sarcasm in his booming voice, just plain, warm openness.