Fine line portrait of a woman with a floral headband and red earring on a thigh, with blue raindrops, leaves and a geometric umbrella.

Woman portrait with raindrops on a thigh

Fine line · Thigh · Mixed · Photo

A fine line portrait of a woman in profile sits on the outer thigh, with a floral headband shaded in red and blue. A geometric umbrella outline sits above her head, and blue and red drops with leaves trail down the leg beneath her, with a small antlered figure at the lower edge. The black linework is clean and sketch-like, with colour used as accents against the light skin and a dark garment at the top of the frame.

Fine line Geometric Thigh Woman Portrait Flower crown Umbrella Raindrop Leaves Antler Figure Earring

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The rain had been falling on the Vell Pass since dawn, and Marisol Tennant had stopped trying to keep her paper dry. The map was ruined anyway. The inked switchbacks had run into grey smears, and the red cross marking the cairn where the carrier was to meet her had vanished under a lid of cloud. She tucked the sodden sheet inside her coat and looked up at the umbrella she had bought in Keswick, its ribs spread like the spokes of a wheel she could not see the hub of.

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Above the tree line a stag stood on the ridge, antlers branching out like dead wood, watching her. Her grandmother had said the stags on the pass were the old keepers of the weather, and that a walker must never pass beneath their gaze without offering a pinch of salt. Marisol had no salt. She had a tin of peppermints, and she held one up toward the beast like a fool. The stag did not move. A drop of rain slid off the brim of her umbrella and struck the stone at her boot, and it was blue. Then another, and another, and where they landed, small leaves of wet silver unfurled from the rock.

The carrier, Tobiah Ferris, found her at dusk with a lantern and a mule that smelled of wet wool. He looked at her umbrella, then at the blue puddle spreading on the path, and said nothing about either. "You came up the north side," he said. "Nobody comes up the north side." "I had a map," she said, and held out the ruined sheet. He laughed, a short bark, and took her pack without asking.

At the summit they stopped to rest, and she turned to look back. The rain had stopped for the first time in three days. Below, the valley was full of drops hanging in the air like beads, each one catching the last of the light, and the stag had gone from the ridge. Marisol folded the umbrella and set it open on a flat stone, ribs to the sky, for whoever climbed the north side next.