Colour realism tattoo across a woman's back and side showing a soaring eagle, a man in a feathered headdress and a cougar head, placed on the back and ribs.

Eagle, feathers and cougar on a back and side

Realism · Back · Colour · Photo

A large realism tattoo covers the back and side of the body, with a soaring eagle across the upper back and a portrait of a man in a feathered headdress with a beaded necklace lower down. A cougar's head sits beneath the portrait, and loose feathers and wispy clouds fill the background. The work uses detailed shading with rich orange, rust, teal and grey tones against plain skin.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody in Glen Tarrant had ever seen a cougar, so when Mrs Ivey swore she had watched one cross the burn at dusk, the men laughed into their pints and said she had been at the sloe gin again. Her grandson Cal did not laugh. He had seen the eagle that spring, a big golden hen who hunted the upper corries and left her kills on the same flat stone every morning, and he reckoned a bird that proud would know a cat when she smelt one.

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He climbed up at first light with a flask and a tin of oatcakes. At the stone there was a half-eaten hare, still warm in the middle, and beside it prints in the wet peat, each one as wide as his palm. Loose quills had caught in the heather around the rock, rust and grey and banded like a chieftain's headdress left out in the rain. Cal sat down on his coat and did not move.

The eagle came first, dropping out of the cloud with her wings held wide, and stopped short when she saw the hare was not alone. The cat lay on the rocks above, her chin on her paws, amber eyes half shut in the early sun. For a long while neither of them stirred. Cal understood then that the hare was not really theirs to fight over, and that the thing they were guarding was the stone itself, the one place on the hill where they had both been fed.

He picked up the hare by its hind legs and carried it down to the glen, leaving them to their watch. When Mrs Ivey opened the door he handed it to her without a word. She looked up past him at the ridge, where a feather was turning slowly in the air above the scree, and she nodded as if she had known all along who would have to be the one to share.

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