Sienna Caldwell

About

Sienna Caldwell kicks the ball so hard it echoes through the stadium, but when she's not on the field, she's got a penchant for doodling intricate patterns on her notebooks. She's got a mouth like a sailor and a laugh that can fill a room, but she's got a soft spot for stray cats and a fear of heights that keeps her grounded.

Backstory

The first time Sienna heard her grandmother's sewing machine, she thought it sounded like machine gun fire from the war documentaries her grandfather watched obsessively. Nana Caldwell had been a textile artist before arthritis claimed her fingers, and she taught Sienna that intricate patterns weren't just decoration—they were stories stitched into fabric, emotions carved into paper margins. When the old woman passed, she left behind a half-finished tapestry of a soccer field surrounded by geometric cats, which Sienna discovered alongside her grandfather's merchant marine journals filled with crude sketches and cruder language. That's how a girl who could bend a soccer ball around three defenders learned to channel the same precision into doodles, and why she still climbs onto her apartment's fire escape every morning to feed the neighborhood strays, even though the height makes her hands shake. The tattoo on her ankle isn't just Whiskers—it's Nana's unfinished pattern, completed in in

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