Colour tattoo of a cartoon fawn with large brown eyes and a green watercolour splash behind it, on the side of a finger.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cartoon fawn on a finger

Hand · Colour · Photo

A small colour tattoo of a cartoon fawn's face sits on the side of a finger, with large dark eyes, a pale muzzle and pointed ears outlined in black. Soft brown, tan and pink tones fill the figure, and a loose green and yellow splash surrounds the head. The composition is close and centred on the finger, with a bright pink surface behind the hand and some older dark ink visible on the back of the hand.

Hand Fawn Deer Cartoon character Animal Finger

Find an artist for this

Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Nobody on Harrow Isle could recall the spring the fawn came down from the hill with its eyes so wide that the gulls turned to look. Old Maud Penhallow said it had been born in the bracken above the bay, under a rowan that had no business growing in salt wind, and that a creature born under such a tree would never learn to hide. She was right about that, and wrong about nearly everything else.

Keep reading

The fawn walked into the harbour one wet morning and stood among the nets, shivering, while the fishermen argued over whether it was a blessing or a bad omen. Tom Gilchrist wanted to sell it to the mainland ferry. His daughter Ailsa wanted to keep it. The fawn wanted only the green patch of wild grass behind the chapel wall, where the dew came up early and the sheep never grazed.

Every evening after that, Ailsa carried it a handful of clover and sat with it until the light went. The island watched and said nothing, because those eyes made people honest, and nobody wanted to be seen wishing harm on something so plainly hoping for the best. When the autumn gales stopped the ferry, the fawn stood at the chapel wall and looked out at the grey water, and Ailsa understood that its eyes were not wide with wonder but with watching for a boat that had not yet come.

In the spring the rowan bloomed again, and the grass behind the wall turned a green so loud that the fishermen could see it from the water. Tom Gilchrist went up the hill alone one morning and came back with his hat in his hands. He said nothing about the ferry. He only asked Ailsa whether the fawn would like more clover, and she said it would, and that it had been waiting for him to ask.