Neo-trad colour tattoo on a forearm showing a green multi-headed dragon beside a small figure on a grassy hill, under a starry sky with a constellation.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Dragon and figure in a night sky on a forearm

Neo-trad · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A green, many-headed dragon coils across a grassy hill beside a small figure in a red tunic, set within a pointed arch framing a night sky with a constellation, clouds and pink and purple nebula tones. The linework is bold and dark, with soft shading on the dragon's scales and belly. The palette is rich and mostly colour, with greens, blues and yellows dominating the scene.

Neo-trad Forearm Dragon Constellation Night sky Star Cloud Hill Figure Landscape

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Mags Pellow had counted the heads twice before she let herself believe them. Five, the dragon had, though one drooped from its neck like a wet sack while the others argued over the hill grass. It had come up out of the reservoir the week the water board drained it, and now it lay across Cold Barrow with its coils crushing the bracken, looking at her the way a cat looks at a dangling string.

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She had a basket of eggs on her hip and a question she had been carrying since spring. Her father said a dragon was only as big as the fear you gave it. Her brother said it was only as big as the field it slept in. Neither of them had come up the hill. She set the basket on a flat stone, lifted the cloth from the top, and held out the smallest egg on her open palm.

The nearest head sniffed. A second came round, slow as a barge, then a third, and the fourth just yawned until smoke curled up past the clouds. Above them the sky had gone the deep blue it turns before a frost, and the Tanner's Belt hung there, three bright stars in a row, the same stars her mother had pointed to from the back step.

The dragon took the egg with a tongue as thin as a ribbon and swallowed it whole. Mags waited for the fire. Instead the largest head lowered itself until its eye sat level with hers and breathed out a long warm breath that smelled of cut grass and rain. She had come up expecting to be eaten or to be proved right, and found she wanted neither. She picked up the basket. Behind her the Tanner's Belt burned on, and the dragon folded itself back into its coil, one head still watching her all the way down the hill.