Black and grey realism leg sleeve with a woman's face and a black cat on the calf, a three-eyed cat and ornate scrollwork with lettering on the ankle and foot.

Cat and woman portrait leg sleeve with scrollwork

Realism · Calf · Black and grey · Photo

Two bare legs rest in a bathtub, both covered in black and grey tattoos. One leg shows a large-eyed cat, a small crowned creature and ornate scrollwork down to the ankle and foot, with lettering inside a cartouche on the top of the foot. The other leg shows a realistic woman's face with dark hair beside a black cat with pale eyes, and a hand near the cat's face.

Realism Neo-trad Calf Ankle Cat Woman Face Crown Scrollwork Lettering Hand

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cat would not come aboard until the nets were counted, so Maud Ferrier stood on the slipway with a bucket of herring heads and waited for the tide to make up its mind. Behind her the fleet sat low in the grey water, nine boats with their names freshly painted, and the only one with a cat was her father's Morwenna. Tom Ferrier had found the cat on the breakwater the winter before, a black thing with pale eyes that looked through a man rather than at him, and he swore it had never once been wrong about weather.

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Nobody in Porthgwidden called the cat a witch, though Mrs Pell two doors up had her doubts. They called it lucky, which in a fishing town comes to the same price. The small grey tom that followed it everywhere wore a bent tin crown from a Christmas cracker. The children said he was the king and the cat his queen, and that the sea had handed them the harbour on condition they keep the boats whole.

On the morning the lettering on the chandler's sign had faded past reading, the cat sat down on the coiled ropes and would not move. Maud pushed at it with her boot. Her father laughed and cast off without it. The cat looked past him at the mouth of the bay, then at Maud, and she understood she was being asked to stay ashore. She stayed. The wind came round before noon and the Morwenna limped home with her sail in ribbons, Tom bailing with his hat and swearing the sea had taken a run at the point and turned away when it saw a shadow on the water that had no boat under it.

That evening the cat went back to sitting on the chandler's step, crown askew, as if nothing had been decided at all.