Colour tattoo of a plump pink cat with a unicorn horn and rainbow mane and tail, with small outlined hearts, on the calf.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pink unicorn cat on a calf

Calf · Colour · Photo

A plump pink cat with a silver unicorn horn, a rainbow mane and a rainbow tail sits in profile, with small teal, purple and yellow hearts with dotted outlines around it. The cat is outlined in bold black line and filled with soft pink shading that fades toward the edges, while the mane and tail use blended rainbow colours. The design sits on a smooth area of skin with a partial blue and green tattoo visible at the top edge of the frame.

Calf Cat Unicorn Rainbow Mane Heart

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The cat came aboard at Bristol in a fishmonger's basket, round as a dumpling and the pink of a peony in June. Someone had fixed a small silver horn to her brow with a dab of pitch, and the crew took it as a sign of good luck, though nobody could say whose. The boy Eli named her Mab, after no one in particular. She ate the cook's biscuits before the cook had turned his back, and she had a way of sitting on the bowsprit that made the old hands cross themselves.

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For three weeks the Marigold ran south with the wind behind her and nothing to show for it but flying fish. Then one morning the spray rose off the bow in a sunlit fan, and Mab sat in the middle of it. Her mane lifted into bands of colour, red to violet, and her tail flicked out behind her like a streamer. Tobias Quill, the mate, swore it was a sun dog and nothing more. The cook said a cat that size needed a better explanation, and crossed himself anyway.

Off the Canaries the wind died and the sea went flat as slate. The water casks were low, and Eli, who had grown thin, sat by the mainmast weeping over a cracked cup. Mab walked the rail with her horn catching the light and dipped her head to the calm water. Where her breath touched it, the surface rippled out in rings of teal and violet and yellow. By dusk a breeze came up from the west as if someone had called it by name.

At Bristol the chandler came down to the quay to claim his basket. He looked at the cat, then at the horn, and admitted he had only ever painted it on, with a brush and a little silver paint from his mother's workbox. Mab leapt from the gangplank onto the cobbles and did not look back. Eli still keeps the cup, and says the water in it has never once gone flat.