Small colourful cartoon unicorn with a pink mane and yellow star, shown on the inner wrist of a child's hand resting on pink unicorn-print fabric.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Cartoon unicorn on a wrist

Other · Mixed · Photo

A small cartoon unicorn with a white body, pink mane, pink hooves and a yellow star sits on the inner wrist, with a hand and pink fabric printed with larger unicorns in the background. The outlines are thin and clean with flat fills and no shading, and the rainbow-tinted tail adds a few extra colours. The close, slightly angled composition puts the design in the centre of the frame with soft, even lighting.

Other Unicorn Star Cartoon Mane

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mind the rope, and mind your candyfloss, because the last lad who ate it near the carousel ended up wearing most of it in his hair. Now, the Pemberton Brothers' Travelling Fair had a carousel, and on that carousel rode a unicorn called Biscuit, who was the smallest and silliest of the lot. White as a boiled egg, with a pink mane that flopped over one eye, and a yellow star painted on her flank that the old woman who did the paintwork swore had fallen out of the sky in a hurry.

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Biscuit grew sick of going round and round. Every evening she watched the gulls wheeling over the seafront lamps and thought, that's where the proper horses are. So one wet Tuesday in Scarborough she kicked her back legs, the brass pole gave a groan like a wardrobe door, and off she trotted, her rainbow tail streaming behind her like a stolen flag, hooves clicking along the wet promenade.

Now, you might think a painted pony can't get far. You'd be wrong. She met a gull with one bent foot who told her the sea was enormous and far too cold for ponies. She met a lighthouse keeper who gave her a rag and a tin of brass polish, and she spent a good quarter hour polishing that star until it shone like a shilling. She met a balloon girl who asked her where she was going, and Biscuit said, honestly, she had no idea, but it had better be somewhere with a view.

By teatime she'd reached the sea wall, looked down, and saw her own reflection winking back at her, star gleaming, mane dripping. She decided the sea could wait. She trotted all the way home, and when the Pemberton brothers came looking, there she stood, exactly where the carousel had left her, pretending she'd never moved an inch. So if you go down to the fair tonight and spot a small pink-maned pony with a bit of salt on her hooves, you say hello, and whatever you do, don't tell her the sea was cold.