White Hair On Brown Skin Novels & Stories

"Is that why my hair changed color, too? Because of the wolf?" "Yes. When you change for the first time, the wolf settles in. When you changed back to human, the magic of that first shift allowed the changes of the wolf to manifest in your human form. Most of us turned in our twenties and there's not very much difference before and after. Your hair color reflects the color of your wolf. As a wolf, you are silvery white with a darker gray strip along your spine. White wolves are a rarity among us. You were going gray when you were attacked, right?"

Even without being told, Ravi knew that no Wolf had purple fur. The common ones were brown, grey, true Luna's had pure white, there was a light black colour and such. But never any of the shouting colours. He healed himself and after he made sure that he had no wounds, he rose and changed back to his human form. At the ground where he was lying, there was a mixture of burnt fur, burnt clothes and burnt skin. It smelled disgusting. He looked at his skin and he smiled. His skin looked like a new baby's. So smooth and shiny.

I hissed. “I dare not.” His eyes darted to mine, then back to my fur. “I have to inform you… this resembles vitiligo. A depigmentation disorder. It is common among humans, and sometimes animals. But—” he paused, and his voice dropped lower, “I have never, in all my years, seen a demon with it.” I let out a bitter laugh. “You insult me. You think I came here for human diagnoses?” “It is no insult,” he replied quickly. “I tell you what I see. The skin, the fur—it loses pigment. There is no pain? No burning?”

My fingers moved, straight to his face, shifting the white strands, tugging them backwards to reveal his thick black brow that sat calmly on that handsome face. I watched him. He was so handsome. Like—he should be, right? They all shared the same face, so they all were handsome. But like… this hair—it made him so different. As I watched, I couldn't help but wonder. This white hair of his—was it dyed? Bleached? I looked closely. There were no black roots. No sign of it at all. That could only mean that it wasn't dyed. Bleached, maybe? Suddenly—

he shouted back. Yellow boy. His bright blonde hair stood out very well in a city of dark haired people. Sol has a disease called albinism where his skin has little to no pigment as well as his hair. His eyes were the color of the sky, skin as white as snow and hair as yellow as the sunflower. Doctors said it is very rare. He thinks it is the reason his parents gave him up, he is weird, not normal. But of course, the sisters told him otherwise.

’ I thought. His skin has a deep shade of brown, one that you can say has been soaked under the heat of the sun many times a day with a smooth and beautiful complexion. He’s bald, no hair can be seen on his head. I don’t know if it’s sexy or nasty but I tried to hold my chortle when a gleam of sunlight reflected his hairless head and into the surface of the little brook. “The sun is out now,” I sighed as I arched my head up to the sky, stretching far into the horizon where the sky could be seen everywhere and anywhere as cloudless. Bright and with the color of sky blue.

I smile. “Are you ok darling?” My Mum asks. “Yes! I’ve never felt better!” I growl. I continue to the shower room. I walk in and stand in front of the mirror. My Mum, Dad and doctor stand in the doorway behind me. “It will take some getting used to Killian, you’re lucky you had that mask on or you wouldn’t have any skin.” My Mum explains. “I’m… I’m… WHITE!” I screamed. “Killian. We can do things to improve that. It is due to the white plastic melting into your skin. It has caused a chemical pigment change to your scarring.” The doctor explains.

Her hairstyle was a striking, asymmetrical design, with one side shaved close to the scalp, while the other side boasted a longer, combed-over style that cascaded down to her shoulder. A small, dangling lock of hair on the sideburn area added a touch of whimsy to her overall look. The contrast between the black roots and the blue-tipped hair was a subtle yet intriguing detail. Her skin, a radiant, icy white, seemed almost translucent in the soft light, as if infused with the same crystalline purity as the frozen palace around us.

She greeted us both as we walked in. I'm unfamiliar with the appearance of the elderly woman; I've never seen anything such creation like her before. Her accent, the way she spoke. The shape of her body and the color of her skin. Why is it that our skin is fair and white while hers is light brown? Her hair is long and lush, with a gunmetal grey hue. And her eyes appear milky, which could indicate that she is tired, but they usually gleam with vigor. Her face can appear tired at times, but she is usually active and alert.

Jayne asked with a skeptical look on her face. Eva got up and went to her mirror. She was sure she tucked all her hair under the wig and she, at least, dyed her previously white hair brown again. Eva always noticed how her hair, after being dyed, usually got lighter over time, like her hair was rejecting the dye. At first, she didn’t pay any mind to it, considering she could always dye again. Dye wasn’t working on her hair anymore. It seemed like the white hair was swallowing every other color up. Eva felt a sudden rush of panic. Just when she thought everything has been taken care off.