Colour tattoo of Charmander, the orange Pokémon with a flame tail, on the upper arm, drawn with black outlines and loose watercolour style splashes.

Charmander with flame tail on upper arm

Upper arm · Colour · Photo

A cartoon Charmander, the orange lizard Pokémon, faces right with its curled tail ending in a yellow and red flame. The bold black outlines are sketchy and loose, and the body is filled with orange, red and yellow washes that bleed beyond the lines. Orange splashes around the figure add a painterly, watercolour feel against the pale skin.

Upper arm Pokemon Lizard Cartoon

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Now then, shuffle in close, the wind's coming off the Sallow Fens tonight and it has teeth. You've never heard of the lizard that lived under the bell tower in Ostrel? Then hush, and I'll tell it the way my grandmother told it to me, with the fire between us and nothing else allowed to interrupt.

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The creature was no bigger than a loaf, orange as a dropped apricot, with a curled tail that burned at the tip like a candle stub. The bakers kept it because its flame lit their ovens faster than any bellows. But that autumn the rains came sideways, the flame guttered down to a sulky ember, and the lizard took to sleeping in the cold ash, refusing to be coaxed out for so much as a crust. Nobody thought much of it until Wenna, the baker's youngest, went out across the causeway after her runaway goat and the mist came down like wet wool.

That's where the lizard earned its name in the old songs. It came scrambling out of the ash, tail flaring, and went ahead of her over the black water. Every drop of its light fell on the reeds and painted them gold and red, so she could see the path where the path had gone under. Wherever she hesitated, it stopped and looked back at her with one green eye. When at last the goat's bell answered from the far bank, the flame at the lizard's tail had shrunk to a bead, and it climbed onto her shoulder and fell asleep there, warm as a coal.

The town hung a lantern on the bell tower in its honour, and the lizard was never seen again. If you walk the causeway at dusk you'll find a patch of orange paint on the old stone wall, splashed and bled into the grain, that no one has ever managed to scrub away. Some say it's the lizard's ghost. I say it's only paint, but I've never once put my hand near that wall without feeling it warm.