Black flash design of four animal paw prints above the script words Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs on a white background.

Four paw prints with script names

Black and grey · Flash

The design shows four solid black animal footprints of differing shapes, set in a row above a line of cursive script. The prints range from a full paw with toe pads to a narrow split-hoof shape, with the words spaced beneath them in matching black. The linework is bold and solid with no shading, and the composition is centred on a plain white background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Ruth Abbott had been reading tracks in the frost since half five, and by seven she had given up pretending they were fox. Four sets came out of the hedge gap behind the Crown and crossed the allotments towards Hallow Wood, and none of them matched anything on the parish list. The first was a broad, round pad with five toes, the sort a big dog leaves when it has been trotting. The second was small and neat, claws drawn in the rime like a row of commas. The third was sensible and flat-footed. The fourth split at the front into a narrow cloven mark, as if someone had pressed a pair of tongs into the ground.

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She followed them past the stile and the drying posts, where the frost gave out under the beeches and the prints went on through the dead leaves. The broad one kept stopping to dig. The small one darted back every few yards to check on the others. The split one walked with a deliberate air, as though it had read the map. By the old oak at the clearing the four trails bunched together and stopped, as if whoever made them had simply sat down in a ring and argued for a while.

There were no bodies, only a scatter of crisp packets and half a pork pie with teeth marks in the crust. Beside the largest pad Ruth found a single boot print, heel first, the way a man walks when he is trying to be quiet and is not managing it. Then a second, a third, a fourth, all pointing home.

Back at the Crown, Mr Pascoe was propping the back door open with a bucket and wearing a face like a shut gate. Four of them came in at ten past six, he said, and asked for the back room, and said they'd been out for a walk. Ruth looked at the mud on the step, four neat pairs of boots, and wrote in her notebook: no further action. Then, smaller, she added that the pie had been very good.

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