Black and white pen drawing of two dragons curled together in a yin and yang arrangement, shown as a tattoo design with no body placement visible.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Yin and yang dragons drawing

Black and grey · Flash

A pen drawing of two dragons, one dark and one pale, coiled around each other in a yin and yang arrangement. The dark dragon's head and tail curl across the pale dragon's body, and both have spiked wings and crests. Fine hatching and stippling build the shading on the scales and wings, against a plain background.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mrs Pruett would not let the lodgers take the attic stairs after dark, because the two dragons up there were not finished with each other. The black one, Sooty to the children, slept coiled with its tail across the pale one's back, and the pale one, which the children called Milk, kept its wings folded over the black one's crest, so that neither could be woken without waking the other.

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Every spring the tide came up the lane to the back gate, and every spring Mrs Pruett carried a pail of salt water up to the dormer and set it down by the boards. Her mother had told her that salt was the only thing the dragons would drink, and that a dragon which drank it would keep its word. A sailor called Tobias Wren had rented the attic room once and laughed at her for the pail. In the morning his boat was gone from the harbour, and no one ever saw him again.

The summer the telegram came for her son, Mrs Pruett climbed the stairs with no pail at all. She sat on the floor between the two bodies, black scales and white, and told them plainly what she had lost. For a long while nothing moved. Then the pale dragon lifted its head, its eye like a pearl in the dim light, and pressed its muzzle against her open hand. The black one slowly unwound its tail from the white and laid it across her knees, as carefully as a mother lays a blanket over a sleeping child.

Downstairs the kettle boiled dry and the bread burned. She did not come down for an hour. When she did, the salt pail was brimming with rain, and a single grey feather floated on top of it, which she kept in the tea caddy for the rest of her days.

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