Close-up of a red outlined Wonder Woman eagle emblem with a pale yellow fill on the upper back, just below the hairline.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Wonder Woman emblem on upper back

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A single eagle emblem with outspread wings and a central W, the Wonder Woman logo, is shown in a bold red outline with a flat pale yellow fill. The linework is even and the shape is centred on the frame, with the wing tips extending almost edge to edge. Dark hair and a thin black strap sit at the top of the frame, and the background is softly out of focus.

Back Eagle Emblem Logo

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The thaw came late that year, so the lambing shed stayed a freezer until March, and Dad's hands cracked open every morning like old bread. I was the one who could fit an arm inside a ewe without fainting, which was the only qualification anyone on Hollin Farm cared about, so when the stranger turned up at the gate with a rucksack and a borrowed bicycle, Mum put her to work before she had her gloves off.

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Her name was Ruth Okonedo, though she said Ru, and she had a gold eagle pin on the collar of her waxed jacket, its wings spread wide, a red edging like a stitched seam, a W held in the middle of it like a shield. I asked her what it was for. She said it was for not being scared of things that were supposed to scare you. I said that sounded like the sort of thing people wrote on posters.

We worked the shed three nights. On the third, a triplet came backwards in the dark, the lamp swung on its wire, and Ru's hands went in and stayed there, steady as a clock, while I held the torch and counted my breath. The lamb came out grey and silent. She rubbed its ribs with straw until its chest hitched, and then it bawled, and the whole shed seemed to lift.

In the morning the frost was thick on the gate. Ru unpinned the eagle and pressed it into my palm. "Your turn to be stupid brave," she said, and cycled off down the lane before Mum could find the tea.

I still have it. It sits on the windowsill above the sink, catching the low sun, and every lambing season I pin it to my own collar before I go out.