Black fine line flash sheet showing three arrows and six arrowhead designs on a white background, with no body part visible.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Arrow and arrowhead line designs

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

The image shows three full arrows with feathered fletching and six arrowhead variations, drawn as black outlines on a plain white background. The linework is thin and even, with the fletching built from repeated angled strokes and the arrowheads ranging from simple diamonds to more detailed barbed shapes. The composition is vertical and evenly spaced, with no shading and no colour.

Fine line Arrow Arrowhead Fletching Flash sheet

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Uncle Ted kept six arrowheads pinned above the bench at Pryce's Fletchery, and he never let me touch the sheet until I could draw each one from memory. The diamond was for the butts, he said, and the barbed ones were for hunters who wanted a deer to stay dead. I was fourteen that spring of 1956 and sure I could draw anything, so I sat on the stool with the lamp hissing and put the diamond down first, then the leaf, then the thing with the little hook that looked like a fish's jaw.

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Hallam Cross had two archery clubs and one fletcher, and the rivalry ran through the village like a crack in a plate. Ted fletched for both. On Sunday mornings the Cross Bowmen came in for their shafts, then the Wenlow lot, and by dinner everyone knew who had bought what. He fitted every feather by hand, three to an arrow, set on the slant so they turned the shaft in flight. I learned to lay them in those tight chevrons that run up the wood like the teeth of a comb.

Then Eddie Lusk came in with a purse and asked for barbed heads on his target arrows, and Ted said no. Eddie said he would take his custom to Wenlow, and Ted said he could go and be welcome. The next morning I took the sheet down, fitted a plain diamond to a shaft of ash, fletched it with feathers I had cut myself, and left it on the bench without a word.

On the Sunday Eddie shot it at the final end and it flew true into the gold, a hair ahead of his own. He pulled it from the straw and turned the diamond to the light, still whole. Ted said nothing, but when I went to put the sheet away I found he had pencilled a seventh head beside the six, small and plain, with my initials under it.