Round Fingers Under Military Uniforms Novels & Stories

As if danger was closing in on me. I didn't lose my concentration for long and quickly stood up straight. The falling rain drops kept me awake. "I'm fine, thanks." The man in the trench coat responded in a low voice, then released his grip on my hand. For a brief moment of contact, I felt scraped by something cool. I looked around and noticed that he was wearing a sterling silver end ring on his pinky finger. The simple lines were outlined in the shape of a scorpion with a high vertical tail, and the tail ring was very well designed.

She braced herself and waited for the man's next advice. - "Aim down when the weapon is in the resting position" he instructed, and she followed the rule. Lora wore black leather pants juxtaposed to her body, along with a thin fabric T-shirt and coat. On the other hand, Colton's clothes made him extremely serious. The military pants, moss green T-shirt, and the holster at his waist were almost like an extension of his body. The man was tall, strong, and had the expression of someone hardened.

His trousers were a dark grey, tailored to fit him perfectly, and tapered down to a pair of gleaming black boots that shone in the light. But it was the details that truly set the guard's uniform apart. His cuffs were adorned with intricate knots of gold braid, each one delicately handcrafted to create a pattern that was both elegant and intricate. The epaulettes on his shoulders were encrusted with glittering jewels, each one sparkling in the light and catching the eye.

He has an almost full moonmark on his right wrist, a sign of the great achievements he has accomplished. He is wearing a war attire, a sleek, black leather jacket with silver fangs; which I believe are from demons he has slayed, rests along the shoulders and an embroidered wolf on the back. Beneath the jacket, is a form-fitting white shirt with a pair of dark, fitted pants with reinforced knee padding. On his feet, are high-end combat boots with a polished, metallic finishing.

"What I said was I don't need *you* to be afraid." Cain's hand did not move beneath hers. Her fingers pressed down one by one on the back of his hand. As if counting something. His knuckles arched slightly under her palm. The second joint of his index finger bore the thick callus of a sword grip. The third joint of his middle finger carried an old blade scar. The edge of his pinky held a thin patch of chilblain scarring. In the same position as the faint red mark on the webbing of her thumb.

I couldn't help but smile as I moved ahead in line. Soon, I collected my uniform. The uniform was neatly folded and tied with a dark velvet ribbon. As I untied it and lifted the fabric, I felt a mix of awe and curiosity. The outer robe was a deep, earthy brown—plain yet dignified—signifying that we were new initiates, still unranked in the academy's hierarchy. The material was thick but soft, perfect for the colder weather in the highlands.

—elegant and relaxed in a way that said they’d never been asked to carry anything heavier than a glass. I stood at the edge of the entrance, invitation in hand, fighting the urge to smooth my dress for the tenth time. It was not Frostveil finery. It wasn’t my old bar uniform, either. We’d picked it the way you picked weapons: simple black, long-sleeved, high enough at the neck to keep hungry eyes off my scars, loose enough through the middle to hide my small but real bump. My wrist was covered. The bracelet sat hidden, hot, a familiar circle of wrong.

I simplified my worry and only thought of those close to me, mainly my father who I loved with my entire heart. When the Federation sprung up, almost overnight, there was a lack of uniforms and red bandannas were worn on the upper arm to signify infantry. When soldiers died and more uniforms became available, red-striped patches replaced the bandannas. I never asked about the families of those soldiers who died and were made to leave the tunnels. Again, I buried my head in the sand.

He unbuttoned his wrist and stretched his sleeves up till his elbow. Maira didn't touch it, just gazed at it like an eagle. Her focus landed first on his scratched and crooked fingers, then slowly inching up to his wrist, and finally at his buffed arm devoid of any excessive fat. "Okay, put it back!" She said, "Now for the real thing!" 'oh come on… there is still more!' "I have a team, more like a hunting party. Everyone is capable and strong, however the party has no connection to the military. In fact, most of the members have no military background."

The cloak extended down to his ankles, with slits on the sides to allow for unrestricted movement during combat. Beneath the cloak was a form-fitting, dark ensemble made of flexible, reinforced material. The shirt and pants were designed for agility, featuring subtle armor plating at vital points to protect against attacks without sacrificing mobility. Black, fingerless gloves covered his hands, enhancing his grip and leaving his fingers free for delicate tasks. Completing the outfit were a pair of sturdy, black boots with soft soles, enabling Claud to move silently across any terrain. The boots were reinforced at the toes and heels, offering both protection and an added edge in hand-to-hand