White line drawing on a black background of a crescent moon framing a sunburst, with a row of dots and three feathers hanging below, as a tattoo design.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Crescent moon, sunburst and feathers drawing

Black and grey · Flash

The drawing shows a crescent moon enclosing a circle with radiating sunburst rays, with a row of small dots along the inner curve of the moon. Three feathers hang from the base of the moon, each drawn with a central quill and fine outlined barbs. The linework is off-white on a dark charcoal background, with no shading or colour.

Crescent moon Sun Sunburst Feather Dot

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The sun came down to the broken keep at Corvel every evening that autumn, because the moon had taken the north tower for her bed and would not give it back. They argued over it the way neighbours argue over a hedge. The sun said the tower was his to warm at dusk. The moon said a tower with no roof had no need of warmth, and that she had kept the owls company there for longer than he had bothered to look.

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Three feathers came down into the courtyard that week, long and grey, from a heron that flew too low over the moat. They caught in the arch where the portcullis used to hang. The moon said they were hers, since the heron had crossed her side of the valley. The sun said a feather belonged to whoever could carry it, and he picked one up and held it up to the light until its quill glowed. The moon said that was cheating, and the sun said it was simply what a sun did.

So they made a bargain. The sun would lend the moon a ring of his rays each night, so she could find her way across the sky without losing the edge of herself in the dark. In return she would hang the feathers where he could see them and mark the nights they had kept the peace with a row of small white dots along the curve of her shoulder. By spring there were more dots than either of them could count, and the feathers hung from the arch as steady as washing.

In the morning the sun rose over the north tower and the moon was still there, pale as a dropped coin, and neither of them moved until the wind came up and lifted all three feathers at once. They turned slowly above the courtyard, first one way and then the other, and for a while it was impossible to say which of the two of them was holding on to them.