Black and grey tattoos on a clenched hand: a wolf head on the index finger, a square and compass on the middle finger, a rose on the ring finger and an eye in a triangle on the little finger.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Wolf, rose and eye tattoos on fingers

Hand · Black and grey · Photo

A clenched fist is shown close up against a blurred dark maroon background. Each finger carries a small tattoo: a snarling wolf head, a square and compass with an eye, a rose and an eye within a triangle, with a larger sketchy design across the back of the hand. The tattoos are in black and grey with fine linework and soft shading.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The bill-posting job paid in tea and a bed in the horse wagon, and that was how I came to be pasting the last of the Ledger & Vane bills on a barn door outside Ely in November. Behind me the big top sagged under the first rain of the season. Inside, Sol Ashdown was counting the takings for the third time, because the number never changed and he liked to watch it not change.

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Sol had a wolf on his left forefinger he'd had done in a Hull parlour the year his father died, and he tapped it when he was thinking. "Wolf's the act," he said. "Always was. Twelve years Brenna walked those grey brothers through the hoops, and the crowds came for the teeth." The grey brothers had been sold to a zoo in Kent in September. Brenna had gone with them, and nobody had said much about it since.

The square and compass were older. On the cards in the caravan we called them the lodge, a club of old showmen who met in back rooms and swapped addresses for winter quarters. Sol's eye sat inside the triangle on the other hand, the one that watched the till. He told me once it was not a religion, just a way of keeping count. I believed him until the Thursday the ledger went missing and he went through every pocket in the wagon with the lamp in his teeth.

We found it under the rose-painted seat of the strongman's cart, the pages stuck together with spilt tea, and the last entry was in Brenna's round hand: Sold the wolves. Kept the rest. Sol read it twice, then folded it into his coat and said nothing for an hour. Next morning he painted a new sign for the gate, LEDGER & VANE, WINTER AT HOME, and under it, smaller, the name of the one act we had left, which was ours.

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