Colour tattoo of a deer head with antlers, pink flowers and a green leaf wreath in a fine line style on the lower leg.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Deer head with flower crown and leaf wreath on a calf

Fine line · Calf · Colour · Photo

A small deer head with long antlers sits at the centre of the design, with pink and lilac flowers woven across its brow and antlers. A wreath of green leaves curves beneath it. The linework is fine and dark, with soft watercolour-like washes of pink, purple and green, and the tattoo is centred on the lower leg against plain skin.

Fine line Botanical Calf Deer Stag Antler Flower Leaves Wreath

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The hart came down to the fairground the week the ground froze hard, and nobody at the Michaelmas fair could say which of the travelling men had let him in. He stood by the water trough with his antlers strung with pressed pink clover, looking at the rides as though they were a kind of weather. Old Mother Halloran sold him a paper cone of roasted chestnuts for a penny he did not have, and he paid her with a leaf from the wreath that circled his neck.

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The showman's girl, Nell Brannock, was the only one who thought to ask him what he wanted. She was eleven and had been sleeping under the carousel canopy since her father's wagon broke an axle at Rathcoole. The hart said he wanted nothing from the fair. He only wanted to know whether the lanterns had been lit by somebody who loved them, because the wood in the woods had gone dark since the last harvest and he could no longer tell which way was the road home.

Nell took him round by the lamps. She showed him the one her father had hung himself, with a wick trimmed too short and a crooked brass hook, and the hart breathed on the glass until the flame stood up straight. Then he lowered his head, and a flower dropped from his brow into her hands, still warm.

In spring the wagon came back to the same field. Nell kept the flower pressed between two pages of the almanac, and whenever a lamp guttered at night she would look up and see, far past the last caravan, the faint pale shape of antlers going back into the trees.