Egyptian Long Tribal Braids Novels & Stories

“Done?” “Al-most-there…” Haley was the last one who was braiding down near the floor. “There! Alright!” Getting up, I stepped up to the mirror. It looked incredible. There were two smaller braids on each side of my head, as well as a complicated center braid that was thicker than the rest. It was one I hadn’t seen before. Moving my hair over my shoulder, it all came together in a complicated braid of what looked like more than seven different strands of braids.

Her hair was done in a loose French braid that wrapped over her shoulder. Bronx had on a black suit and tie with his hair gelled back. Honestly, he looked like a future CEO and had the confidence to back it up. Brianna wore a beautiful lavender wraparound dress that flared out at her knees. Little silver flats worked perfectly because she was already fairly tall. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. They all stood where we placed their names on the stage. You could tell that they were nervous, but their pack pride shone through everything. I gave them a genuine smile because they were very important to me and to us.

They stood in two queues, left and right, some of them holding a long stick having a round glass ball of dark color attached to the top of it. As he was stepping down the stairs, his aura spread drastically in the environment. His sight fell on us as he walked in between the queue. His hair was long, even twice his tall height, perfectly braided and carried by his one hand like something precious. For him, there was a saying that his whole magical powers and knowledge were collected in that braid. His eyelashes were long and thick with dark black eyebrows. His pupils were golden in color and his complexion was fairly bright contrasting with his jet black hair. Perfectly called beast and wiza

Uche picked the first arrow and sauntered towards the line. His lips parted when he saw the glee in his wife's eyes. He was taller than most men in the camp and the muscles that streaked his body made his skin glow. Looking at him, Ejima could not stop thinking about the smooth feel of pottery. His hair was long too, and had been braided into two delicate strands, with their dark color, contrasting the cowries that dangled on them. It was an unfamiliar look, that one was strange. Ejima never liked Uche wearing long hair or beads. But seeing them on him made her...

she whispered the last part conspiratorially as though her father was in the vicinity and was in danger of hearing. Everest was still pondering over the revelation when she threaded the second and last glass bead into the front braids. She cracked her knuckles and examined her handiwork, an inward complacence infusing her chest. She had parted the hair in curly zigzag lines and made cornrows. Zigzag cornrows. The last rows on either side of her head had been braided backwards — to the front — so that they hung down either side of her face to her chest and glittered with the big, transparent grass-green beads that hung down them.

Maeve "And they really didn't talk about Tasia at all?" Myla moved about the room, glancing at her reflection in the mirror as she examined her hair. It had been styled in long, thin braids that touched her waist and had been woven with strips of turquoise silk. They had been fashioned in an intricate updo, and the bun of braids on the top of her head had been decorated with tiny jewels shaped like seashells. She looked absolutely exquisite, and I was very much looking forward to whatever dress she was wearing tonight.

With that, I started to make my way back to the cabin. As I walked, I stopped to watch an older woman braiding a young woman's hair. It was a beautiful style with braids along either side of her temple and then one large braid along the top. Once the braids reached the crown it was tied off and fell in long, loose curls down her back. The elder woman caught me staring. "Would you like your hair braided?" she asked. "That is kind of you," I said holding up my hands, "but I wouldn't want to be an inconvenience."

I gave her a brief nod and stalked towards the dressing table, hitching on a stool. Layla made sure to style my hair beautifully and daringly. Unlike other she-wolves who wore their hair the same pack design, I was a bit defiant. I wore my home pack's style of braids - the upper half of the hair is made into a french twist while the second-half will be curled beneath my shoulders. As usual, the people would be outraged for bringing a strange style but Kaiden didn't mind. , he loved it. He always gave me this intense look whenever our eyes met and I'd fall in love with him all over again.

“Umm-hmm. Same o’ Ian Gallagher.” Her hair’s longer than when I last saw her—when she and her brother, Big Easy, took over the Gulf Coast pack. It’s styled in thin braids she’s bleached a soft white which only accents her olive-toned complexion. They hang to well below her exposed tattooed waist, and as always, are bedecked with strange feathers, pierced medallions, crystal beads and a few random animal teeth or talons, I can’t tell which.

Her hands move so fast they become a blur of fingers and scarred drum sticks. "Sorry," I mumble. Everyone is staring daggers at me. Wait. Hol'up. Why is that? "Ah-ah, this is like the fifth row you messed up. What's wrong with you today?" She queries. The single ebony braid not tapered into a neat cornrow down her scalp cowlicks before her eyes. There are tiny gold rings slipped through her braids; there always are. I use to think they made her look formidable, like a warrior princess out of an epic movie.