The woods were no ocean view, but Caleb wasn't in any position to be picky. He'd wanted some breathing room away from the school and it seemed like the quickest way to get it. He'd gone deep into the woods, watching his steps and taking his time. His fingers fell upon the mossy side of rocks, beat-up boots sinking into the dense, lush ground below his feet, fertile and rich.
Finally, Caleb found himself a nice log, picking up a piece of splintered wood and beginning to whittle it. The shavings rested in a small pile between his legs. He hadn't realized he'd started to hum until he caught a different sound. Glancing up, he glanced around, then turned his eyes upward. They grew wide as he saw the boy flying a few feet above him.
"Hello," he said, folding the knife closed and setting it beside his leg. "I know you from somewhere."