Realism tattoo of a bearded man with long wavy hair and a chain necklace, shown in colour on the arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Realistic portrait of a bearded man on an arm

Realism · Other · Mixed · Photo

A photorealistic portrait of a man with long, wavy brown hair, a moustache and beard, and a metal chain with a pendant at the neck. The face is shaded softly with detailed skin tones and highlights in the eyes. A vivid pink area sits at the chin and neck, with dark clothing below, all against a blue-green background.

Realism Other Portrait Man Beard Long hair Chain Necklace Pendant

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Down in Harrowmere, where the river ran the colour of old bottle glass, the ferryman Osric Tell wore a silver chain at his neck with a dented pendant on the end of it. Nobody knew what the pendant had been. His mother had given it to him, he said, on the night the mill burned, and she had told him never to take it off in water.

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The king's dyer, a woman called Hanne Aldous, wanted that chain badly. Her vats could make any colour in the kingdom except the pink of the wild foxglove, and the queen had commanded a cloak in exactly that shade. Hanne offered Osric a sack of gold. He laughed and rowed on. Each spring she came down to the landing with a bigger offer, and each spring the river rose a little higher under the willows.

One autumn the flood took the ferry in the night. Osric clung to a willow root until dawn, and when the mist lifted he found the pendant still warm against his chest. Washed up on the mud beside him was a bolt of pink cloth, soaked through, and the water in the shallows had turned the colour of the foxglove. Hanne had emptied her last vat into the stream that week, rather than sell her work to a queen who never paid.

Osric carried the cloth to her door at Harrowmere Mill. She stood in the doorway with her hands stained to the wrist and said she had never wanted the chain, only the colour. He told her the river gave what it chose, and that she had better ask it nicely. So she did. The cloak went to the queen the colour it always was, and the ferry crossed as it always had, though the folk of Harrowmere still say a man who wears the river's pendant will never drown, only ever be a little wet.