Colour realism tattoo of a deer head with antlers, pink blossoms and a perched chickadee, on the upper thigh.

Deer, chickadee and blossom on a thigh

Realism · Thigh · Colour · Photo

A realistic deer head with branched antlers sits at the centre, framed by pink five-petal blossoms, green leaves and twigs. A chickadee perches on an antler branch at the top right, and a tied rope or cord sits at the base of the wreath. Soft shading gives the fur and face depth, and the warm browns and pinks contrast with the lighter skin tone.

Realism Botanical Thigh Deer Antler Bird Blossom Flower Branch Leaves Rope

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The buck came up the service road at ten past four, just as the kettle on Ward Nine clicked off. I saw him through the glass of the sluice door, stepping between the wheelie bins with his head held high, antlers branched like a dead winter hedge. Sanjay, who had been on the desk since nine and had seen everything twice, said it was the third one this month and nobody believed him.

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This one had caught a length of blue baler twine on his left antler, and it trailed behind him like a bad hem. I went out in my clogs with the suture scissors in my pocket, which is not a sensible way to approach a stag, but the twine was cutting into him and I could see red at the base of the tine. He let me take his head in both hands. His coat smelled of rain and cut grass and disinfectant from the bins. The cord came away in one tug, and I stood there holding it like a fishing line that had given up.

Above us a chickadee sat on a bare branch of the cherry tree by the bike shed, black cap and bib like a small waistcoat, watching us with total disapproval. The tree had come into blossom the week before, five-petalled and pale pink, and petals were settling on the bonnets of the night staff cars like snow nobody had asked for.

The buck went off across the car park towards the allotments, unhurried. Sanjay came out with two teas and asked where he'd gone. I pointed. By handover at seven the twine was coiled on the windowsill of the staff room with a petal stuck to it, and the chickadee was still on the branch, having apparently decided we were its responsibility now.