Realistic wolf and woman face tattoo on a forearm, with teal water bubbles and splashes of blue behind the figures.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Wolf and woman portrait on a forearm

Realism · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A large forearm tattoo shows a grey and brown wolf's head with bright blue eyes, overlapping the side of a woman's face with her eyes and lips visible beneath. Soft shading and fine detail give the skin and fur a photographic texture. Teal and blue water, bubbles and wisps run along the lower arm and behind the wolf, while the rest of the piece is in muted greys and browns.

Realism Forearm Wolf Woman Face Water Bubble

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The tank had to be filled by hand every morning, because the pump on the Lowther Fair had died somewhere between Carlisle and Penrith, and Dilys would not let anyone else carry the buckets. I carried them anyway. Eleven trips from the standpipe by the cattle field, water slopping over my boots, and by the time the first punters shuffled under the canvas she would be sitting on her stool with her hair down and her eyes shut, looking like someone nobody argues with. A shilling to see the Wolf Lady, the board outside said, in paint touched up so often it had gone thick as cream.

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The trick was simple enough. I pulled the cord on the blue lamp behind the glass, the bubbles rose through the rubber tube Dilys had bought from a man in Rotherham, and a painted wolf on a sheet of hardboard slid across her face as she turned her head. The crowd gasped every time, when the wolf's eyes caught the light and her own eyes opened underneath. I never looked at the crowd. I looked at the cord, because the day I forgot which way to pull it would be the day the lamp stayed dark.

In September a boy of about nine stood at the front and told his mum the wolf was watching him. Dilys opened her eyes, and for once she didn't perform. She said wolves only follow the ones who have wandered from the pack, and that she had been following herself for thirty years. Then she climbed out, dripping, and told me to take the board down for good. We packed the van in the rain before the last show. I left the blue lamp on in the empty tent, and from the car park I could see the bubbles still rising through the water, slow and silver, like something that had not yet decided to stop.