Outline Owl Tattoo Drawing Novels & Stories

“Do…do you want to see it?” “Only if you want to show it to me,” I say, my voice quiet. “I do.” She pulls her fingers out of mine and turns around. Chloe lifts her shirt, slowly revealing her back to me. There, covering her entire back, is a watercolor tattoo of a black bird in mid-flight. Its body is curved in a “c” shape, its wings spread overhead. The background is filled with splashes of color: teal, green, and purple. And the words “Take these broken wings and learn to fly” are inked between the bird’s wings.

The towel tied around his waist and his hair dripping wet was making her center crave for his touch. “Are you just going to stand there and stare all day?” He questioned in a miffed tone and she cleared her throat. “Leah will be coming in late today. I was supposed to inform you yesterday, but you weren't in the right state of mind.” Olivia said, her eyes focused on his bare back. She sighted the tattoo and remembered running her hand on it. It was a drawing of a cross and an Italian writing around it. What does it even mean, huh?

He whispered back. He smiled again, and my hand flew to my eye again. Thentos took one of the young elves' shields and held in front of my face. I could see the light blue, silver tattoo that started at the corner of my right eye and swirled down in a beautiful, intricate design. It looked like a vine crawling out of my eye down to my cheekbone and the other half over my eye towards the corner of my eyebrow. I removed the crown and placed it around my neck instead, like a choker.

Marcus continued slowly. “He said when she handed him candy, her wrist was exposed for a moment. On it was a very unusual tattoo.” Marcus took out another photo. It was a child’s drawing. A twisted pumpkin face, its mouth split all the way to the ears, its eyes hollow spirals. “This kind of gothic-style tattoo… a lot of people have them…” My voice grew quieter and quieter. Marcus said nothing. He simply placed a third photo in the center of the table. The background was a beach and the open sea.

Heath put his hand on Rhett’s shoulder and squeezed it, before going to the door. Rhett walked over to the drawing table under the window. The morning was beginning to brighten, and the birds were flocking to the bird feeder that he kept outside. He liked to study their feathers and poses, trying to bring the details into his sketches for tattoo designs. He flipped open his sketch book and reviewed the designs he had in mind for Aislen, and the stencils he had prepared. He’d do the piercings first, he told himself, whilst she was most angry. When she’d calmed down, he’d start the tattoos.

It’s just thin outlines, like the start of a sketch. “How do you do it?” I ask, shuffling closer to get a better view of the ink of Callum’s thigh. He scoops an arm around my waist, spreading his legs wide and tugging me in to sit on his other thigh. “Just freehand,” he purrs into my ear as I lean forward to get a closer look. “I draw it out on paper, then use that for reference when I tattoo it.” He describes his process with such nonchalance, like he’s completely unaware of how insanely talented he is.

“Then… thank you, Lerder. For giving this ground back to us all.” He hesitated before nodding. “Thank you too.” Elara pressed their joined hands close to her chest. The partnership rippling through roots, sun, air. At midday, children gathered under the old oak by the healer’s hearth. Eluna stood before them, her sketchbook in hand, she traced their small faces. “What do you imagine this line to be?” She pointed to a sinuous line drawn in the dirt. “Draw it in the air.” A young shifter girl drew a glowing spiral—wolf and bird shapes emerged. A human boy traced it as a river.

I took a small step closer without deciding to. My eyes moved across his shoulders and then I saw it. On his back, centered and clearly the most carefully rendered of everything there. A woman beneath a full moon, a veil drifting from her in a wind that only existed in the image, her hands reaching toward something or someone just beyond the edge of the ink. The detail in it was extraordinary. The veil rendered in fine lines that caught the morning light differently from the rest of the work, the figure beneath it given presence without a face, the moon above her enormous and full and casting a light that existed only within the frame of the tattoo.

“That’s great! Do you remember anything else like a tattoo or a cut or any distinctive feature?” David thought for a while before drawing the picture of the beak of a bird within a shape that resembled a broken ‘T’, without the left half of the horizontal line and the vertical line seemed to be wacked in a bit. “This was on the left hand” David pointed to the back of his palm. “Umm” Dana nodded and looked in interest. David’s ego took a boost seeing Dana was interested. He started to draw more bits and pieces to the other portraits. All he wanted at this time was for Dana to sit admiring him.

The smaller person also has dark-colored hair and a green body. There’s a red line between the two people. Jenny’s fingers touched the edge of the stone steps. Her nails scraped against the stone, producing a “scritch” sound. She turned her gaze away from the drawing paper and looked at Olivia’s face. Olivia is using pink crayons to draw something in the lower right corner of the paper. Her wrist is very agile; the crayon draws an arc across the paper, then pauses. She changes the direction and draws another arc. The two arcs intersect, forming the outline of a butterfly.