Caleb had grow nearly a foot more in height but still only stood at average height (tells you some thing) Yet he seemed to have an air around him that told you even if her wasn't tall you didn't want to mess with him, the cold, calculating, menace was some what lost as he was rocking back and forth curled up crying for the memory attack in his brain. He was dressed entirely in black but wasn't hot under the sun and though not weapons were visible hidden under the cloak were 5 or so throwing knives in a brace crossing his chest. As his left arm drew away the others recoiled in horror for where a hand should have been there was only a forearm that when upon reaching the wrist melded with the metal of the pike where he should have had a hand.