Red and black tribal-style fox tattoo with swirling ornament on the side of a torso, just above the waistband of jeans.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Swirl-patterned fox on the side of the torso

Ribs · Mixed · Photo

A fox is drawn in a bold black outline with its body and tail filled in with swirling, scroll-like ornament. The fox's head and upper body are shaded in red and orange, while the curled tail and lower body are in solid black with red infill. The tattoo is shown against smooth skin with a grey top and denim waistband at the edges of the frame.

Ribs Fox Swirl Scrollwork Animal Tail Ornament

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The fox came up from the shingle at the turn of the tide, and Aunt Ivy would not let anyone chase it off the back step of Gull Rest. She said it was paying its rent in the only coin it had, which was leaving our bins alone. Her lodgers that summer were a retired signalman called Mr Pell, two sisters who sold shells by the pier, and me, sent down from Leeds to be useful. I was useful mostly with the coal scuttle.

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The fox wore a coat that looked wrong for August, rust at the throat running down into something close to black at the brush. When the scullery lamp caught it the markings seemed to shift. Ivy traced them for me on the back of a rent book with a carpenter's pencil. Every line curled back into another line, the way the ironwork on the pier curls where the salt has eaten it, and she said her mother had drawn the same swirls on the lids of the pickling jars. "Nothing's ever just a line, love," she said. "It goes round to see where it came from."

On the last Saturday of the month the step was empty. Mr Pell had gone quiet over his tea, and when I went up with the hot water his door was open and the window was too. The rent book lay on his pillow, the fox drawn across the page in fresh pencil, and beside it a small grey shell worked round and round into a spiral.

Ivy took the drawing and pinned it above the hall clock, where the lodgers could see it on their way to breakfast. In the morning there were prints in the wet on the step, running out towards the shingle and turning back on themselves twice before the tide came in and took them.