Black tribal design of a howling wolf with a paw print inside a swirling band, shown as a flat drawing on a white background.

Tribal howling wolf with paw print

Blackwork · Black and grey · Flash

A bold black silhouette of a wolf with its head raised as if howling, with sweeping tribal-style bands and spikes along its body. A large paw print sits in the centre of the composition, enclosed by curved strokes that flow into the wolf's tail. The image is solid black ink on white with no shading or colour.

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The snow came in on the Tuesday, and by Thursday the lane up to Hob Scar had vanished under it, so you walked the ewes up the back way with the dog at your heel and the lamp swinging from your fist. Ewes do not like the dark. Neither, if you are honest, do you.

Keep reading

Halfway up the top field the dog stopped dead. She didn't bark. She lifted her nose towards the wall and whined once, low, the way she did for foxes you never saw. You followed her gaze to the drift along the dry stone, where a line of prints ran straight as a surveyor's chain, each one the size of your palm, four toes splayed and a pad like a dark coin pressed into the white.

Your father had told you about the old grey that took lambs off the high fells before the bounty men cleared the valley. He told it the way he told everything, flat, as if it were weather, and you never believed him. Now the prints led you over the wall and down into the bracken, and somewhere beyond the trees a long note rose out of the dark, climbed, held, and broke over the hill like something tearing silk.

The dog sat down in the snow. You stood with the lamp and waited for the answer, and it came back from the valley and the ridge and the far side of the reservoir, voice after voice, until the whole fell was singing. When you walked home the prints walked beside you all the way, and at the gate you looked back. The wind had already begun filling them in, soft and patient, one pad at a time.

More like this

From the plentytattoo archive, uploaded by a user. Is this your work? Ask for credit or removal.