Small black fine line tattoo of a cat with a curled tail on the side of a torso, with a grey cat in the foreground.

Fine line cat tattoo with a grey cat

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A small black tattoo of a cat with a curled tail sits on bare skin at the side of the torso, drawn in thin, unshaded outlines. A grey cat fills the foreground, looking up and to the side, with warm, sunlit tones across the frame. The tattoo is a minor part of the composition, which is dominated by the cat's face.

Fine line Other Cat Tail Line drawing

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

By the second switchback the cat had decided the laundry basket was beneath him, and he said so in a voice like a rusty gate. Ada Creswell pretended not to hear. She had promised her brother the animal would be happier at the high farm above Scaur, where there were sheep to ignore and mice that had not yet learned to read the traps. The wind came off the scree in long shoves, the lorry had given up two miles back, and so they walked, the basket swinging from her elbow like a lantern.

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At the cairn the cat hopped out uninvited. He picked his way up a drystone wall and sat on its top with his tail wrapped round his feet, staring past her at the ridge where a kestrel was hanging in the wind. Ada stopped. She had her brother's letter in her coat pocket, the one that said the roof had come in over the back room and the sheep were asking for her. She did not want to drag anything up that hill. The cat turned his head sideways, ears flat, as if listening to a voice on the far side of the pass that she could not hear.

She waited longer than she meant to. The kestrel dropped, rose, and dropped again. When the cat finally leapt down, it was not towards her but onto the old drovers' path, the one that climbed in a long curl over the shoulder of the hill. Her grandfather had walked it with a cat in his coat for luck, or so he claimed.

Ada set the basket on the stones and left the lid open. Then she followed the grey tail up the track, which was the only thing on the mountain that seemed sure of where it was going.