Colour tattoo of a purple cartoon pony with a flower crown and pink mane, with three small winged ponies, on the shoulder.

Purple pony with flower crown on shoulder

Shoulder · Colour · Photo

A purple cartoon pony with a pink mane and a crown of blue, pink and green flowers is the central subject, with a small pink flower on its flank. Three smaller winged ponies in pink, blue and yellow sit around it, and swirling pink and purple scrollwork fills the space below. Soft, smooth shading with dark outlines on the main pony gives the piece a playful, candy-bright look on the skin.

Shoulder Flower Flower crown Mane Swirl Scrollwork Cartoon

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Rain had been falling on Saltgate market since before the bells, and Old Ilse's stall had sold nothing all morning but a wooden pony. It was plum-coloured, with a mane of pink curls and a crown of painted flowers, blue and pink and green, and the paint on one ear had worn down to bare grain. Three smaller ponies, carved from willow and painted to match, hung on lengths of string above the trestle, turning slowly whenever a gust came off the harbour.

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A girl called Tove came past with a basket of wet cabbages and stopped to stare. "How much?" she asked. Ilse wiped her hands on her apron. "Not for sale. The pony goes to whoever carries it up to the chapel steps without a petal falling off." Tove looked at the crown, then at the hill, and laughed. "That's a daft price." "It's the only one I have," said Ilse.

So Tove tucked the pony under one arm and climbed. The cobbles were slick and the flowers caught on her sleeve. At the first bend a petal came loose, and she stopped, pressed it back with her thumb, and went on. Halfway up, one of the willow ponies swung down on its string in the wind and bumped her cheek, as if to hurry her. At the top the rain thinned to drizzle, and the puddles below the steps held the whole market upside down, stall roofs and gulls and the small figure of Ilse waving her apron.

Tove came back down with every flower still on, her shoes soaked to the ankle. Ilse took the pony, looked long at the crown, then lifted the yellow willow one from its string and pressed it into Tove's palm. "Carrying is the price," she said. "Nobody ever pays it with money."