Fine line black tattoo of an outlined cat beside a small crescent moon on the skin of a thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cat and crescent moon in fine line

Fine line · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A small black tattoo shows an outlined cat in profile, with a thin tail curling behind it, next to a separate crescent moon. The linework is single and fine with no shading, and the design sits on a plain, lightly lit area of skin against blankets. The image is a close, straight-on photograph in a single colour.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cook has gone to his bunk and left you the galley, the only warm room aboard once the middle watch is set. You fill the kettle from the tap that runs brown for the first minute, then wait for the ship's cat to decide you are worth the trouble. Tansy has been aboard longer than the bosun and considers herself the real master of the stores. She sits on the locker lid with her tail wrapped round her paws, watching the porthole where the moon keeps sliding past the glass.

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The hull creaks, the stove ticks as it cools, and your tea has gone stewed in the tin mug. Tansy stands, stretches, and drops to the deck with the soft weight of a sack of flour. She goes to the porthole and looks up, her tail lifting. You know what she is after. The crescent hangs low over the bow, thin as a paring knife, and every night this week she has tried to get it down.

Last night you told her it was only the harbour light caught in the glass, and she did not believe you. Tonight you open the porthole an inch. Salt air pours in, cold enough to make your eyes water. She hops onto the sill and pauses, and you see her head tilt the way it does when a sound comes from far off. Then she turns back to you, as if you have wasted her time.

You look where she was looking. The moon has slipped behind the rigging and left a single silver line on the water. Tansy jumps down, winds round your ankles, and starts to purr. In the morning the cook will find the porthole open and the sugar bowl knocked over, and he will say it was the cat, as he always does. He will be right, which is the trouble with cats and moons.

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