Warrior African Tribal Tattoos Novels & Stories

Halle lowered her voice and asked, “I want to ask if you know anything about wolf tattoos. The kind of tattoo that doesn’t show normally but will reveal itself when it comes into contact with warm water. It’s a whole red wolf, not just the wolf head.” Some thoughts later, the person on the other end of the phone said, “In the Western Frontline, the Lycantroops usually use a wolf as their totem. However, they are very particular with their tattoos. Based on what I know, a whole wolf can only be tattooed on someone of the highest rank.” A high-ranking person in the Lycantroops? Halle started to have a better understanding of the situation. “Thank you, Uncle Lee.” After the call, she used whate

I said while fiddling my fingers. "You do not have to thank me. I'd happily eliminate every last one of those cowards from the entire region," he said tightly. I noticed his jaw was set and couldn't help but take in his features. His black hair feathered across his eyebrows and I watched as he ran his hand through it to brush it away from his eyes. His full lips were set in a frown as if he was picturing eliminating the witch hunters in his mind. I also noticed the tattoo that ran from his neck and down to his shoulder. The abstract design framed a triple goddess moon symbol with a dagger that impaled the inner circle. This brought my thoughts back to the night before and Tor's magnificent p

She was flustered after talking to Kabir. "Why do I feel this way?" She whispered quietly. Yara barely heard her above the loud music. "How do you feel?" Yara questioned but got no reply, Minahil was busy looking at Waniya and Ahmed who were standing some feet apart from them. *** Waniya was wearing a black and white bandana top with a blue ripped jeans. Her belly was pierced and she was wearing a silver colored piercing. Her hair cascaded down her sides in thick curls. Eyes embellished with thick eyeliner and intoxicated from the alcohol she was drinking. Her smooth, curvy figure was aligning perfectly with Ahmed's chiseled body who was standing behind her with one hand wrapped under her bo

It disappears beneath the fabric of the tank top, hinting at a larger tapestry that covers his torso. "What’s that one?" I point to a symbol on his rear deltoid. It looks like a wolf, but abstract, geometric. "Ink," he deadpans. "You don't say. I thought it was a very specific bruise." I lean closer, squinting. "It looks tribal. But not the I got drunk in Cancun kind of tribal. It looks meaningful. Is it a gang thing? A badge of honor for every time you successfully intimidated a client into silence?"

In the distant forest, thousands of warriors in red beast-skin armor poured out like a flood, rushing toward the tribe, and the earth trembled under the feet of these tiger-like warriors. "They are from the Red Tiger Tribe. These damned tiger brats, are they going to start a war?" On top of the city walls, an expert from the Ancient Wood Tribe sneered and said, "They are so stupid that they dare to attack our main city. We can even exhaust them to death if we don't kill them directly."

Deep-set forest green eyes flecked with amber held a calm vigilance, much like Malik's. Tribal tattoo spirals peak out from a tailored, dark navy tunic of woven wool, its broad shoulders reinforced with leather pauldrons embossed in tribal knotwork. The tunic’s front panels overlap like scales, fastened by a hammered silver clasp shaped as interlocking spirals. His trousers are equally dark, cut slim to tuck into fur-lined boots polished to a soft sheen. Draped over one arm was a heavy cloak of midnight-black bear fur, the underside dyed forest-green to mirror Malik’s vigilant gaze. A silver circlet resting low on his brow, engraved with his tribe's crest.

I swallowed hard, my eyes smoldering with disbelief. He was majestic. And dreadful. His torso was a scene of trauma. Thick cords of muscle caressed his ribs and his stomach; yet, it was the scars that held my attention. Claw marks. Burn scars. Knife wounds. And tattoos that were black tribal ink, swirling over his shoulders and down his arms, declaring him a warrior of the Old Ways. He looked like a god of war carved from obsidian. "Quit staring, Ryker drawled as he kicked off his shoes. On the contrary, this seems somewhat rude."

Sasha blurted out. Aki shrugged. “Brown Slayers have full body tattoos, right? Well, it turns out Budo’s tattoos are non-tribal and resemble those of gangsters.” “What’s his spirit animal?” Sasha asked. “A hissing cockroach,” Aki replied. All three Slayers looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

I'm sure all these guys are covered in these markings. Some of our pack warriors have these markings, but not as many as this male. Our pack warriors just get them mainly for body art but for them it's different. They don't just get these tattoo just because they want them, they have to earn the right to carry these markings on their flesh. "What business do you have here?" He stops a few feet away, staring at me with a cold glare. I ignore his glare, not letting my ego get me into a glaring match with him. They have something I need and me being defensive won't get me what I want from them.