Colour tattoo of a grey cat peering out from green and blue leaves and grass on the outer thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Grey cat with green foliage on thigh

Thigh · Mixed · Photo

A grey cat with pale, wide eyes and a pink nose sits among sweeping green and teal leaves and grass strokes. The cat is drawn with soft grey shading and loose, painterly edges, and the blue-green foliage fades into the background. The tattoo fills the upper thigh, with the cat's head at the top and the leaves trailing down the leg.

Thigh Cat Leaves Grass Foliage Plant

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Brother Osric had been on his knees in the physic garden since Lauds, working bindweed out from between the comfrey, when the grey cat came up out of the feverfew and sat down on his sleeve as though she had been sent for. Nobody at the house owned her. The novices called her Vesper, because she appeared at evening office and was gone before the last psalm, and no one had ever seen her eat.

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The infirmary key had gone missing on Tuesday. It was small and brass, and it opened the cupboard where the foxglove tincture was kept under lock, and Brother Cuthbert had already told the abbot that Osric had been careless with it. Osric had searched the cloister, the stillroom and the bottom of the well bucket. Now the cat stood up, stretched, and walked into the sweep of the mint and the long green blades of the couch grass. The leaves closed behind her. When she came back a moment later she dropped something at his feet with a small, deliberate click.

The key was furred with soil and sticky with sap. Osric turned it over in his palm and thought about the rule of silence, the rule of work, and the many small ways a man could make himself look guilty by hiding a thing he had only meant to keep for an hour. He could walk straight to Cuthbert. He could say nothing and let the matter fade. Instead he fetched a herring head from the kitchen steps, set it down in the shade of the wall, and watched her take it without a glance at him.

When he went in for Compline he left the key in the cupboard door, and the next morning it was still there, bright with polish. The grey cat was back among the feverfew, her pale eyes half shut, the green leaves climbing over her shoulders as if the garden had decided to keep her.