Two matching tabby cats seen from behind, tattooed in grey, black and orange ink on two forearms.

Matching cats on a pair of forearms

Forearm · Mixed · Photo

Two pairs of cats, each a larger cat with a smaller one beside it, are shown seen from behind with their tails curling at the bottom. The cats have bold dark outlines and patterned tabby-style markings in black, grey and orange, with some shading across the bodies. The two forearms show mirrored versions of the same design, photographed against a plain skin tone and a dark background.

Forearm Cat Tabby cat Tail Matching pair

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The mother cat would not come down from the mainmast the night the Harriet Vane lost her compass, so Tobias Quill went up after her with a bowl of salt pork tucked under one arm and a lantern swinging from his belt. The rigging was slick with spray. Below him the deck heaved like a sleeping animal, and the wind carried the smell of wet tar and the wool stacked in the hold for Cape Town.

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She sat on the crosstree with her back to him, striped orange and black like rope gone to rust, her tail curled tight around her feet. The kitten, no bigger than a boot, had followed her up the shrouds and now clung beside her, ears flat, watching the dark where the stars had been. Old Mrs Ibbotson, who kept the galley, always said a cat that faces away from the crew is reading the weather for them. Tobias had never believed it until that night.

He crept out along the yard with the bowl held in his teeth. The mother cat turned her head and looked him over, unimpressed, then stepped down onto the lower shroud. The kitten tumbled after her. Together they led him through the blackness to the hatch, stopping at each rope and sitting until he caught up, and at last to the binnacle, where the captain was shouting for a light. The compass was found wedged under a coil of line, exactly where the mother cat had been staring.

Three weeks later they raised the mountain at dawn, a grey cloth laid over the land. The cats came down the gangplank together at Cape Town, the little one stepping in the big one's footprints, and the dockers swore afterwards that both tails were curled the same way, like a pair of question marks waiting for someone to answer them.