Close photo of a small black fine line cat silhouette tattoo on the side of a torso, near the hip, with a hand resting beside it.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Simple black cat silhouette tattoo on the side

Fine line · Other · Black and grey · Photo

A small cat sitting side-on in a single black outline, with a curled tail and pointed ears, set on bare skin at the side of the torso. The linework is thin and uniform with no shading, and the cat fills only a small part of the frame. The background shows a dark top, a hand at the upper left and blue fabric at the lower edge.

Fine line Other Cat Silhouette

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody owned the cat at Cwm Esgair, which is how the innkeeper put it when I asked whose she was. She had a body no wider than a loaf and a tail she carried in one neat curl, like a question she had already answered. When I shooed her off the pack saddle of my lead mule, she ignored me the way weather ignores a man with an umbrella.

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We left at first light, with forty kilos of salt and a sealed letter for the priest at the top. The pass is nothing on a map, just a dotted line between two contours, but in October it becomes a stair of wet stones that want your ankles. The cat walked it. Where the track narrowed to the width of a hoof she went first, sat down on a boulder, and waited for us with her tail wrapped round her feet. Every time I feared she would slip, she simply wasn't there, then turned up three rocks higher.

Near the summit the mist came down like a dropped sheet. The mules bunched and the lead animal stopped dead, and I could not see my own boots. Then I saw her, a black outline on the white, sitting perfectly still on the cairn and looking not at me but off to the right. I went right. The ground there was not the ground I had been told to expect, and within a dozen steps the mist thinned to show a scree slope that had swallowed the old track where I would have stepped.

At the priest's door in the valley she was gone again. He had seen a great many things come down that road and was not surprised, only sad, saying the cat had belonged to his mother and climbed the hill to die in the spring. I paid the toll in salt and walked home without looking back, because I knew without turning round that her tail would be curled neatly around her feet.