Solid black silhouette of a roaring lion with a full mane, walking across tufts of grass on a white background.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Roaring lion silhouette over grass

Black and grey · Flash

A solid black silhouette of a lion in mid-stride, head raised with mouth open in a roar and a full, feathered mane. A long tail curls up at the end. Tufts of grass run along the bottom edge of the image. The design uses flat black fill with no interior detail or shading, set against a plain white background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Ada had been working the lantern for an hour before she noticed the lion had outgrown the sheet. Her father's paper cut-outs were stiff things, jointed with bent wire, and this one, the big cat he had made the winter before he went south, kept lifting its head past the top edge of the cloth as if the candle beneath were pulling it up by the mane.

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The fair at Hallow Green had thinned to a few drunk farmhands and a dog asleep under the cart wheels. Across the grass, the people who had paid their pennies stood with their backs to her, watching the pale sheet and not the dark shape moving on it. Ada tilted the frame. The lion's shadow stretched, its legs lengthening into the grass, and somewhere behind her a boy laughed and said the cat was real.

She did not tell him it was not. She kept the tail curling, the way her father had taught her, a slow flick at the end like a question. Then the roar came, though she had not cut a mouth to roar with, and the old men at the front stood up so quickly their benches tipped over.

Her father used to say a shadow needs only a little light and a good enemy. She set the lantern down, and the lion stayed on the sheet long after the flame had gone out.

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