Small colour cartoon tiger tattoo with black outlines and orange stripes, shown on bare skin.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cartoon tiger tattoo on skin

Colour · Photo

A small cartoon tiger sits in a relaxed pose with a white muzzle, black outlined ears, and a dark-tipped tail curling at the bottom. The tiger is drawn with bold black outlines and filled with orange ink and black stripes, with the belly and paws left as pale skin. The tattoo is centred on a plain, lightly freckled area of skin with a soft, even background.

Tiger Stripe Tail Animal

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

The tiger had been sitting on the lip of the well at Sabbar Crossing since the summer the road was first tarred, and nobody could say where he had come from. He was no bigger than a loaf, with a round head, two black ears like drawing pins and a white muzzle he kept wiping with one paw. Carters gave him crusts. He never asked for anything and never thanked anyone, which the old men said was the mark of a proper tiger.

Keep reading

One dry October a water-seller called Tamsin Pell came up the road with a mule and six empty skins. The well was down to a dark thread at the bottom, and she sat on the stones and wept, because the next town was two days off and the mule was thin. The tiger climbed down from the rim, looked at her with his black-dotted eyes, and said that the water had gone down past his knees. She said it had been dry since March. He lifted his tail, which was orange with stripes and tipped in black, and told her to dip it in the hole.

She did not believe him, but she was tired, so she tied the tail to her rope and lowered it. When she hauled it back up the stripes ran with water, bright as spilled paint, and the well came up after it, cold and sweet. She filled every skin. The mule drank until its belly swelled. When she turned to thank the tiger he was already trotting away along the tar, stopping once to look back with his small pale paws folded in front of him.

The well has never gone dry since, so long as someone leaves crusts on the stones. Tamsin's grandchildren still say that is where the stripes came from, and that a tiger's tail remembers every drop it has carried. In spring the road-men find small orange prints in the mud beside the well, and nobody sweeps them away.