If you don't think I've seen scars, I'll take you down to hospital ER on any Saturday night.
The left side of Howie's head was absent hair and a series of three dark scars were visible.
The scars ran all the way through his hand, as if it had been chopped up and put back together.
Without the scars, he was a darkly handsome man, his features heavy and masculine.
Healing his scars made her feel a familiar sense of exhaustion, and she retreated to the couch in front of the TV, content to doze and recover.
"I'm happy …" He paused as he turned, startled to see the Grey God without the scars that knotted his face the last time Jule saw him.
The scars covering him from head to toe were from more than his master's beatings.
She sat to pull on shoes and saw the scars around her wrists, evidence of her fight against the bindings Jilian used to strap her onto the table.
He traced his fingers over the scars on his hands and followed them up his arms, then his chest, then his legs.
His body was covered with faded scars that fascinated her, made her want to trace the lengths of them with her fingers then her tongue.
Waiting for him to snap or yell as he had when she arrived to Hell, she touched him timidly with her other hand to begin exploring the ridges of the scars on his chest.
The scars the Dark One created when he turned her Immortal were more faded today than yesterday.
Half her face was knotted with horrible scars, the other half displaying skin close to the same shade as the white pillowcase beneath her.
The scars from the demon attack were there.
These scars were huge and knotted.
She shuddered, looking at the tiny scars of his teeth on her forearm.
She dressed quickly to avoid comments on either her collar or her scars and flung herself into her bunk, reminded of her cell with Lankha.
He sat beside her and reached for her, his gaze on the newest scars given to her by Kris.
She sensed the unseen scars of war and strife, the price of Anshan's struggle, buried deep beneath the surface of the hardened man before her.
Even from the distance, she could see the scars down one side of his face.
She couldn't imagine even one of the genetically altered warriors healing so quickly from an impact great enough to create the deep scars on his face!
She traced the scars along one side of his face, taking in his features with concern.
When he looked too fast, he still saw the jagged, deep scars that the Healer had gotten rid of.
Some scars stay just below the surface.
She couldn't help hurting for him, all too sensitive to the scars left by her own past.
Scars were visible on one cheek, on the back of his neck, and on the wide upper body that was exposed the previous day.
Violent scars marred her torso and arms.
Plagued by the ill-formed memories, she looked at the scars lining her arms before stretching for the knife beside the bread.
There were two small scars on her neck.
If not for the scars on her neck and those of the woman she escorted out this morning … "What happened to your arm?" he asked.
Sorcery, the scars raised on the body, the knocking out of teeth, circumcision and rules as to marriage have been quoted; but many such customs are found among savage peoples far distant from each other and entirely unrelated.
The breast or back, of both sexes, is usually tattooed, or rather, scored with rows of hideous raised scars, produced by deep gashes made at puberty.
The date palm is a beautiful tree, growing to a height of from 60 to 80 ft., and its stem, which is strongly marked with old leaf-scars, terminates in a crown of graceful shining pinnate leaves.
All of this left scars on me.
Neither gnarled fingers nor old scars nor old doubts and sorrows were any of them in evidence now.