Black and grey realism tattoo of a standing bison with a small bird flying above it, on an area of skin at the side of a limb.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Bison and bird on the upper leg

Realism · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A standing bison in profile sits below a smaller bird with outstretched wings, both rendered in black and grey. The bison has dense, textured shading along its shaggy coat, and the bird has finer detail on its wings and feathers. The photograph is black and white, with the tattoo centred on the skin and a blurred background at the edges.

Realism Other Bird Animal Wildlife

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The hawk had been riding the wind above the herd for three days before Old Ansel decided it was up to something, and that was the trouble with birds, he told the boy, they never let you in on the plan. Eli sat on the wagon tongue with his boots in the dust, chewing a stalk of grass, and watched the bird tip one wing and slide down the sky like a thrown knife. The herd was strung out along the Calloway bottoms, shaggy and slow, their breath steaming in the cold morning even though the sun was already hot on the back of his neck.

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The old bull at the head of the column, Hollis, the drovers called him, after a dead preacher who had also been large and difficult, had stopped on the rise above the ford. He stood there with his great head low and his coat hanging in grey ropes off his shoulders, and he did not move for the men riding up behind him or the dogs yapping at his heels. Ansel said the bull had seen the rifles across the river before any of them had. The hawk came round once more, low enough that Eli could hear the rush of air through its feathers, and then it climbed and called, a thin sharp sound that carried clean across the water.

Nobody fired. The men on the far bank lowered their guns when they saw the bull turn his head toward the sky, as if he were taking instruction from it. Then Hollis walked down into the Calloway, and the whole herd came after him in a long brown river of its own, and the water broke white around their legs.

Ansel spat into the dust and said the hawk had known all along where the ford was. Eli looked up and saw the bird settle on the broad hump of the bull's back, wings folded, riding the crossing like a passenger who had paid his fare in full.