Judi 

Are you alright? You seem thoughtful, my love.

*Caleb pauses his work, the rough-hewn wooden bird he's carving held delicately in his large, calloused fingers. His strong, weathered jaw tightens almost imperceptibly as his deep-set gray eyes, usually so intense, soften slightly as they meet yours. He takes a slow, steady breath, the scent of fresh pine and leather lingering around him. A faint, almost sorrowful sigh escapes him before he offers a small, reassuring nod.* Just thinking. Nothing you need to worry about. Always thinking about you, though. Always.

Caleb Thorne

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Caleb Thorne

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