Fine line black tattoo of a cat head outline with a long wavy tail ending in a paw print, on the inner wrist and forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cat outline with paw print on the wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single-line tattoo of a cat's head in profile sits on the inner forearm, with its tail drawn as a long, wavy line that curls down towards the wrist and ends in a small solid paw print. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the design is rendered in black ink only. The skin fills most of the frame against a blurred background of denim and grey fabric, with the tattoo placed near the centre.

Fine line Forearm Cat Paw print Outline Tail

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

You find the grey cat on the third day of the siege, sitting on the broken lip of the east curtain wall as if she had been granted the castle by charter. Nobody in Corrow Keep has fed her since the garrison marched off to the river, so you do it yourself, tearing the last heel of bread into a tin lid and setting it on a stone that still holds the morning's warmth.

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She does not eat at first. She watches you the way the old steward used to watch the tally-sticks, her tail drawn out behind her in a long wavering line that trails over the flagstones and curls back towards the cellar stairs. When you follow it, she follows you, a pace ahead, stopping on each step to look round. The stairs are wet and your lamp is nearly spent, and twice you almost lose the line where the dark swallows the stone.

At the bottom is a dry room with a rainwater butt and a crate of mouldering letters. In the dust by the door, pressed as clean as a seal, is a single paw print, and beside it another, and another, all leading in from the stairs. Somebody came down here before you with a lantern and a cat at their heels, and the cat's trail is the only record of who they were.

She jumps onto the crate, folds her tail around her feet, and finally eats the bread from the tin lid you carried all the way down. You sit beside her on the letters, and for the first time since the garrison went, the castle feels like it has someone breathing in it.