Black and grey realism style tattoo transfer designs of a hopping rabbit and two feathers on a white wooden surface, with no body placement shown.

Rabbit and feathers tattoo transfer designs

Realism · Black and grey · Flash

Two cut-out tattoo transfer designs sit on a white wooden background: a rabbit seen in profile, mid-hop, and two feathers with soft, feathery strokes. The rabbit uses fine shading and light hatching for fur and the feathers are drawn with dark, wispy linework that fades toward the tips. The image is entirely black and grey, with a plain, bright composition.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rabbit came up the lighthouse stairs on the third morning of the gale, and you were the only one awake to see it. You were sitting on the bottom step with a can of paraffin at your feet and the lamp hissing overhead like a kettle that would not boil. It was thin and grey as wet ash, and it did not run. It sat and looked at you the way the gulls did when they were deciding whether your sandwich was worth the trouble.

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Your father had kept the light for thirty-one years and had never let a living thing past the door. Rats were drowned on sight. But the rabbit hopped past your boots, paused at the gallery ladder, and went back out into the rain as if it had only come to check the weather. Two feathers were caught on the iron railing where it had stood, one long and black, one ragged at the tip. You pocketed them before he woke.

He found them in your coat that evening. He said nothing about the feathers. He turned the wick down a notch and told you the first rule of the keeper was that a light should be seen, not admired. When you asked what a rabbit was doing on a rock twelve miles from any field, he said the sea had driven the warrens off the headland years ago, and anything left out here had either learned to fly or learned to run very fast.

By morning the tide had taken the path to the jetty. The feathers were still in your pocket, soft and slightly damp. On the top step, where the spray could not reach, someone had left a line of small prints in the salt, going up towards the lamp room and stopping at the glass. You stood there a long while, then climbed the stairs two at a time, struck the match, and watched the flame catch and spread until the beam swung out over the water, and out past the reef a pale shape lifted and was gone.

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