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Created 6 months ago · 3 comments· 0 likes
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He stood unmoving—arms bare to the wind, chest painted with the sacred line of the Dog Men. A human barrier. A living vow.
They called him “Iron Spine,” not for his strength alone, but for the unbending will that forged him. His war paint was not for fear; it was for memory. Each blue stroke down his face marked a battle survived, a brother lost, a promise kept.
Across his breast hung medallions of rawhide and bone, worn smooth by time and storm. The eagle’s plume crowned his head like a war cry made flesh. And the ravens head above his brow? A spirit guide for those who walked the twilight path between this world and the next.
When the People faced the long knives and the broken treaties, he was the first to tie his sash to the ground, staking his life as immovable. To retreat would dishonor his ancestors. To fall would simply mean rising again in song.
This was not a moment of war, but of declaration.
He was Dog Soldier—not just in body, but in soul.
This creation was not made on NightCafe.
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So interesting! I wonder if that's why people of today like to cover themselves with tattoos?