Pricked 

touchmylawnmower:

“Got a particularly slippery record.” He replied, looking over his shoulder as he spoke. “Kept runnin’ away. Had t’ chase it all over th’ place.” he laughed. It was then that his eyes noticed something peculiar on Eric’s body. Not that he was staring. “"S that… a tattoo?” He asked, unable to see much of it.

Eric laughed at the idea of Ronald running all over creation to retrieve a record. He imagined that he’d be shouting expletives the whole time, frustration so clear in his expression it’d be comical. “Ho? Oh, ye mean this?” He turned so that his friend could see the tattoo boasted upon his side: a large tree with yawning, spidery limbs stretched over his ribs and shoulder blade, skulls nested between gnarled roots.