Black silhouette of walking figures and an animal in a line along a fine outlined mountain range, tattooed on the forearm in black ink.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Silhouette procession across mountains on arm

Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A line of solid black silhouettes walks left to right along a ridge, including a hooded figure, a large four-legged animal and a figure carrying a staff. Above them a thin black outline traces a range of mountain peaks that overlaps and fades into the skin. The tattoo is in black ink only, with no greys or colour, and the figures sit centred across a wide horizontal band on the arm.

Forearm Mountain Silhouette Figure Animal Hooded figure Staff Landscape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lamplighter's daughter saw them first, walking out past the gasworks at the hour when the last tram goes back to the depot. Seven of them in a line, the first a hooded figure with a blackthorn crook, the last a heavy beast with a head like a bolster, padding close at a heel. Nell counted them twice, because nobody in Harrowgate had ever seen a procession that cast no light on the wet cobbles.

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Old Mrs Eastwood said they had walked this road before the railway came, and before the chapel had a bell. She said they went up to the ridge above the town, where the peaks are only the thin pencil of the sky between the chimney stacks, and that they never came down the same way twice. Her husband had once tried to follow them and came home with his boots full of frost in July. Nobody believed her until the water tower was painted with a line of snow in one night.

Nell went after them anyway, with the lamp still in her hand. The ridge was colder than it had any right to be. At the top the hooded figure stopped and turned, and lifted the crook, and pointed back down at the city, where every window in every terrace was lit gold.

She understood then that they were not leaving. They were counting. Each light was a name they had already walked out of, and they were patient about the rest. She went home before dawn and set her own lamp on the sill, and when she looked out the next morning the line of figures had moved one step further along the ridge, and her light was still burning.