Black and grey tattoo of two crossed arrows with feathered fletching on the inner forearm, shown near the wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Two crossed arrows on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A small tattoo of two arrows crossing diagonally on the inner forearm, with feathered fletching at each end and a diamond-shaped node at the crossing point. The linework is thin and clean, with the arrowheads and some feather sections filled in with grey and black shading. The ink is entirely black and grey, set against plain pale skin and a blue-grey wall.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, you lot, the fire's warm enough for all of you. You'll have heard the tale of Brother Anselm and the bowyers of Harrowgate, but not the proper version, because the proper version has the feathers in it.

Keep reading

Two fletchers lived under the one roof of St Cuthbert's when the abbey was new and the wolves still came down from the fells. Brother Edric cut his feathers from the left wing of a grey goose and set them with hot pitch that smelled of pine. Brother Osric cut from the right and swore on his mother's ashes that his shafts flew truer. The abbot, tired of their shouting over the vespers bell, took them both to the cloister walk and told them to make one arrow between them before Lady Day, or he would bolt the workshop door and let the wolves have the lot.

So they worked. Edric carved the shaft, Osric fletched it, and neither would let the other touch his end. By Lady Day they had three arrows apiece and not one between them. On the eve of the feast they sat either side of the brazier, each with a hand on the same splintered shaft, and neither let go. The snow came in under the door. The bell rang for compline. Somewhere out in the dark a wolf howled, and both of them looked up at once.

That was the night they stopped counting feathers and started counting who was still awake. Come morning they had crossed two arrows at the middle, bound them with a diamond of bone, and hung them over the workshop door with the fletching pointing in opposite directions, so that neither man could say which way the other ought to go.

I'll tell you the end of it another night, when the fire's lower.

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