Gold metallic temporary tattoo reading BRIDE TRIBE with a feathered arrow, in a lettering style, on the inner forearm.

Bride Tribe lettering with arrow on a forearm

Lettering · Forearm · Colour · Photo

The design shows the words BRIDE TRIBE in capital letters, stacked in two lines, with a thin arrow running diagonally beneath them and a feathered fletching at the end. The letters and arrow are rendered in a shiny metallic gold foil with clean, even edges and no shading. The background is a soft-focus green, and the wrist and forearm are shown in the lower half of a close-up frame.

Lettering Forearm Word Arrow Feather

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The road sign for Dry Creek had been bent by someone with a grudge, so it pointed at the sky, and Marisol was the only one in the van who thought that meant anything. The other four were busy with the foil transfers, peeling the last ones off the backing sheet and arguing about which wrist looked best. BRIDE TRIBE in gold, a thin arrow beneath, feathers at the tail. Bea had insisted on the arrow. It meant they were all going the same way, she said, which was a lovely thing to announce at seven in the morning with no coffee in anyone.

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They reached the petrol station at noon, where the heat rose off the forecourt in sheets and the man at the counter asked whether they were a hen party or a rescue mission. Marisol bought four bottles of water and a paper map nobody needed, since the phone had given up past the salt flats. On the dashboard the gold letters caught the sun and threw small coins of light across the windscreen, and each time the van dipped over the rough tarmac, the arrow seemed to nudge a little further west.

It was Bea who noticed the road bent round an old quarry, and the only way through was the turn they had driven past twice. Marisol pulled over and switched off the engine, and the silence sat in the van while the others looked at each other. Nobody said they were lost. Bea just tapped her wrist against the window, where the arrow pointed back the way they had come.

So they turned around. By the time they reached the turn again the sun was low and orange, and the foil on four wrists had gone the colour of honey. Marisol kept her eyes on the bent sign, which now seemed to point straight down the road to the church, and felt for the first time all week that she knew exactly where they were headed.