Colour traditional chest tattoo of a snarling blue wolf beside a yellow crescent moon and grey clouds, with tattooed sleeves on both arms.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Snarling wolf and crescent moon on chest

Traditional · Chest · Colour · Photo

A large chest piece shows a snarling blue wolf with bared teeth and a yellow-green eye, set against a dark grey cloud form. A crescent moon, small stars and dark dotted texture fill the surrounding space, with a dagger motif above on the neck. The bold outlines and flat, saturated colour sit against the grey shading of the clouds, and the image is framed from the chin down to the arms.

Traditional Chest Neck Upper arm Forearm Wolf Moon Cloud Star Dagger Sleeve Snarl

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lamp swung on its hook in the byre and Nell kept her hand on the gate latch, counting ewes by their breath. Frost had furred the top rail. Behind her the yard was silver under a thin crescent moon, and past the wall the hill had sunk into cloud so thick it looked like wet wool dragged over the ridge.

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Her father had come out with the rifle he no longer fired and leaned it against the feed bin. "It'll be the grey dog from Hollin's," he said, but he didn't believe it and neither did she. The tracks by the beck were too long and the stride too even. Something had been walking the field wall as if it owned the place, stopping now and then to look back at the lights.

At three the dogs went mad. Nell ran out with the torch, its beam catching a blue-grey shape in the gap of the wall, ruff raised, teeth bared, one yellow eye holding hers. She had her grandmother's dagger-handled knife in her coat pocket and felt its cold weight there. The wolf did not come forward. It looked past her at the lambing pen, at the stars scattered over the hill like salt, and then back at her, as though it were the one deciding.

She did not raise the knife. She lowered the torch, swung the pen gate wide and stepped back into the snow. The animal took the scraps they had set out for the foxes, then climbed the slope into the cloud, and the moon came out clean above the empty wall. In the morning the water trough had a skin of ice and, pressed into it, a paw print the size of her hand. Walt said nothing. He just broke the ice and filled it again.