Neo-traditional tattoo on a thigh of a hooded, blindfolded woman with a black raven, a hand holding rope and an orange crescent moon.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Blindfolded woman and raven on a thigh

Neo-trad · Thigh · Mixed · Photo

The tattoo shows a woman in a hood, blindfolded with a rope bound across her eyes, with a black raven perched beside her and a pale hand gripping a rope below. An orange crescent moon frames the figure, and the design sits across the outer thigh of a person wearing dark clothing. Bold black outlines define the forms, with grey and black shading on the raven and hair, and touches of orange, red and yellow.

Neo-trad Thigh Woman Raven Crescent moon Rope Hood Hand

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rope was already knotted when the raven came down the chimney, shaking soot across the flagstones as though it had paid for the privilege. Maud Tallis did not look up. In the eleven weeks since her brother's boat went out past the Wash and came back without him, she had learned that looking at the bird only made it louder.

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Old Sarah at the ferry had said a blind woman could hear true water, and that a raven would walk her to whatever the sea had kept. Maud wound the hemp twice over her eyes and tied it at the nape, pinning her hair out of the way. The bird settled on her left shoulder, claws pricking through her wool shawl, and she felt its weight shift as it leaned in, the way Tom used to lean when he wanted her to laugh at something that wasn't funny. The sea wall was cold under her bare feet. Eleven hundred paces, Sarah had said. Maud counted every one.

At nine hundred and ninety the bird lifted, and she heard it land somewhere north, beyond the reeds where the mud swallowed a dropped lantern in a breath. She followed the sound of its wings. Her hand came out and found a rope, cold and tarred, running down into the black water, and her heart went cold with it. She pulled. The rope came up heavy with weed, and then it went taut in a rhythm she knew: three short tugs and one long, the signal Tom had always given their mooring at home.

She untied the knot only once she was inside her own door, the blindfold still damp. Tom sat at the table with a bowl of broth he had not touched, his hands raw from hauling. He did not stand. "The bird found the way," he said. "I only had to wait for it." Maud took the loose end of the rope from the raven's claw, coiled it twice around her wrist, and asked him nothing, not yet.