Navy blue bison design on white textured paper, with a night sky, crescent moon and stars across its back and snowy mountain peaks in its body.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Bison with mountains and night sky

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A bison silhouette is shown in a single navy blue ink on textured white paper. The upper body is filled with a night sky containing a crescent moon and small stars, while the lower body is filled with snow-capped mountain peaks. The clean outline and simple flat shapes give the design a printed, illustrative look.

Mountain Night sky Moon Star Snow

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Ada, the wind hasn't let up since Thursday, and the stove smokes whenever the door opens, so forgive the smudges. Mr Pruitt came up from the lower pasture yesterday with his hat in his hands and told me the herd had split at the creek crossing, half of them gone east toward the foothills where the snow sits early. I took the grey mare and the dog and rode until the light went thin. Past the old fence line the sky was already navy and the first stars were out over the ridge, and a bison bull stood broadside in the trough of the valley, the peaks behind him white as sugar, as if he'd been cut from the dark and pinned there for me to find. He didn't run. He only looked at me the way a neighbour does across a fence, and then he turned and walked slow into the snow, and the ridge took him.

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We brought the rest down before the frost. I won't pretend it was tidy, but nobody lost a beast, and the calves came through the cold with their ears intact. Pruitt says the bull is a wanderer who keeps to the high country and only shows himself to those who ride out with no rope in their hands. I told him I had no rope and he laughed for a full minute.

I've been thinking about that moon, the thin one that hung over his shoulder like a hook. Come spring, when the passes open, I want you to ride up with me and see it for yourself. Bring your good boots, and leave the sensible ones at home. There is a meadow past the second ridge where the grass comes up to a horse's belly, and I have a notion we might find him grazing there, or we might not, and either way the afternoon will be worth the saddle sores.

Your loving brother, Tom