Two colour tattoos of a white cartoon cat in an ornate gold or silver frame, one with a pink ribbon banner and one with a pink bow, both on the thigh.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

White cartoon cat in ornate frame on thigh

Traditional · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A white cartoon cat wearing a pink bow sits inside an ornate frame with scrollwork and jewelled details. The left version uses bold outlines, a teal background and a pink ribbon banner with script lettering, while the right version uses finer grey linework, a pale blue circular backdrop and a pink patterned bow. Both are shown in colour on the upper leg, with the colour ink dominating each piece.

Traditional Neo-trad Thigh Cat Frame Ribbon Bow Banner Scrollwork

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit down, sit, and keep your hands out of the figs. This is a tale about a white cat in Alexandria who never once started a fight, and so was the only creature in the house who could finish one.

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Her mistress, Kallisto, kept a gilt mirror frame shaped like a shell, all curls and little jewels, and set into it a painted slate of the cat herself, poised with a pink silk bow at her neck. That spring two cousins came to live under the roof, Thea and Dorcas, and they quarrelled the way wet cloth quarrels with a brazier, slowly and then all at once. First over a string of blue glass beads, then over the silk bow, then over which of them was the rightful heir to the frame.

Ione watched them from her cushion. She did not hiss or scratch or bite the cousin who called her a rat. She only sat very still, cleaned her white paws, and let the bow slip from her neck so that it dropped onto the mosaic between them. Both cousins reached for it at once. Their fingers met, their voices rose, and by the time the household came running they were tangled on the floor with a cracked lamp and a bead ground under a sandal.

When Kallisto asked who had begun it, the cat only blinked at the mirror, where her painted self sat exactly as before. The cousins looked at each other, then at the bow, and neither said a word. In the morning the frame had been polished until it shone, and Ione was wearing her bow again, as if nothing had ever fallen.