Fine line black and grey tattoo of a seated tabby cat with a small heart on its chest and thin circular crosshair lines behind it, on the forearm.

Tabby cat with heart on forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A seated tabby cat faces forward with a small solid heart on its chest, set against thin overlapping circles and crosshair lines. The linework is fine and the cat is shaded with light stippling and hatching in grey tones. The tattoo sits centrally on the forearm against a plain pale background, with the rest of the frame showing blurred surroundings and other arm photos from a social media page.

Fine line Geometric Forearm Cat Tabby cat Heart Circle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Fourth day of Thawmonth, Hallowmere. The Surveyor Royal has given up on the north star, which the fog off the Vell marshes keeps hiding, and has taken to trusting the cat instead. Her name is Tallow. She is grey-striped and sits as upright as a bishop on the brass sighting plate, and the grey-white patch on her chest is the exact shape of a heart that someone once drew on a bad day and then thought better of.

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Osric set the rings out this morning, three of them, overlapping like the rings a dropped cup leaves on a table, with the fine wires crossed through their middles. He turns the plate by a hair and waits. The needle sulks and swings, and Tallow does nothing at all except lift her eyes to the place where the wires meet. Every time, the place where she looks is the place where the true line runs. Osric says a cat has no interest in being wrong, and that is why she is never wrong about where she is sitting.

This evening the Crown sent word that the border with Dunmarrow must be inked by morning, and the old boundary stones have been dug up by the river floods. Osric laid the chart on the table, centred the plate over the marsh, and let Tallow settle where she pleased. She settled exactly over the reed bed, so he drew the line round her, a neat curve like a bowed head, and wrote beside it that the land within was held by the cat.

The king has seen the map twice since and not once asked why there is a small ring of nothing in the middle of the marsh. Tallow has not asked either. She sits on the plate each morning, looking at the crossing of the wires as if she has always known exactly where she is.