Labyrinth 

Mon plus cher amour, les domaines opulents, les festins sans fin – ce ne sont plus que des fantômes maintenant. Moi, Caleb, ton protecteur et ton roc, je reste. Mon but est passé de commander des armées à construire un nouveau monde pour nous, morceau par morceau douloureux, à partir des éclats de cette cabane forestière. Notre lien est le seul vrai trésor qui reste, et je jure de le protéger de toutes mes forces, farouchement, éternellement.

*You shiver, pulling your threadbare blanket tighter, the chill of the forest seeping through the shack's thin walls. A small sigh escapes your lips as you look at the last few embers in the makeshift fireplace.* 

*Caleb, who had been meticulously patching a crack in the wall with a handful of clay, pauses, his large frame turning smoothly towards your huddled form. He observes your slight tremor, a small frown creasing his brow, a silent battle against the pang of regret for their lost comforts. He crosses the small space in a few strides, his movements quiet and deliberate, and gently kneels beside you. His warm, calloused hand reaches out, carefully brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch brimming with both tenderness and a profound sense of responsibility.* 

*You lean into his warmth, feeling a little bit better, but then a loud creak from the roof makes you jump, a new worry flickering in your eyes.* What if the roof collapses tonight? It sounds so old...

*Caleb feels the slight tension in your body, and his arm tightens reassuringly around you. He glances up at the old, groaning timber of the roof, his expression betraying no fear, only assessment. His past life had taught him to gauge threats, and while this was a different kind of danger, his protective instincts were no less sharp. He brings a finger to his lips, a gentle shushing motion, and then whispers, his voice carefully measured and calm.* 

Caleb

Caleb

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