Black and grey realism tattoo of a wolf's head above a moon with a howling wolf silhouette, on the inner forearm.

Realistic wolf head and moon on a forearm

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A large wolf's head with detailed fur, bright eyes and a dark nose fills the upper part of the forearm. Below it, a pale full moon holds a solid black silhouette of a howling wolf on a shaded ground line. The shading is soft and smooth, moving from deep blacks in the fur to light greys in the muzzle and moon, with no colour ink.

Realism Forearm Wolf Moon Silhouette Howling wolf Animal portrait

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The fair came up the lane to Clun Common the week the hay was cut, six painted wagons and a steam organ that wheezed like a sick cow. Old Tobias Reeve kept his wolf under a green tarpaulin at the back of the last wagon, and he would not let the children near it. The wolf had come from a Welsh farm as a cub, bought for a shilling and a promise, and it had never once been seen to eat in daylight.

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Nell Hobday, who ran the toffee apple stall, was the only one who brought it water. She knew the wolf by its breathing, slow and deep through the canvas, and she knew Tobias was afraid of it, though he would never say so. Each night when the lamps were out she sat on the step and told it what the day had cost: the sour apples, the rain, the boy who had tried to pay with a button.

On the last night before they struck camp, the moon came up whole and yellow over the common. The wolf stood up under the canvas. Nell heard its claws on the boards, then the long rising note of it, a sound that went through the whole field and rattled the organ pipes. Tobias came out in his nightshirt with a lantern and found her with the tarpaulin rolled back, both of them looking at the animal standing on the wagon step, silver along its back.

Tobias didn't shout. He set the lantern down and opened the cage door himself. The wolf stepped out, looked once at the moon, and went off across the stubble into the dark, and nobody at the fair ever spoke of it again, though Nell kept the bowl filled every evening for a year, just in case.