Redhawk Caldera the oak when it blooms; a fox in the brush

Ponyboy's grief hung about him like a shadow, one that he dragged to each and every activity he took part in. It felt heavy; and he found that day by day, it did not become lighter, and made it more and more difficult for him to find the energy to hunt, patrol, and engage with others. It loomed over him now, having grown while he'd least expected it to. 

It shrank back when he heard laughter and joy- but those sounds had not come from Ponyboy in some time. 

But when he heard Killdeer's voice on the border, he could feel something shift; he remembered a sliver of what it was to be curious. Numbed, still, to most emotions, he too moved to answer the call, coming to halt by his mother's side, regarding his half-brother with a tired, but mild gaze.