Fine line black tattoo of a fawn within a floral frame on the outer thigh, with denim shorts and lace trim above.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fawn and flower frame on a thigh

Fine line · Thigh · Black and grey · Photo

A young fawn stands in profile, looking to the right, inside a loose floral frame of daisies, leaves and sprigs that curves around it. The linework is thin and dark with no shading, and the ink is a single black tone on pale skin. The tattoo fills the right thigh, with the wearer's legs, lace-trimmed denim shorts and a wooden floor in the background.

Fine line Botanical Thigh Fawn Deer Flower Daisy Leaves

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The feed merchant's invoices came every Tuesday in January, and my mother kept them in a biscuit tin under the Aga, never in order. That winter the frost came down so hard the ewes stood with their backs to the wind and the pump froze twice a day. I was nine and bored of the cold, so I went looking for something to read and found her drawings tucked in the back of the ledger.

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They were all of deer. A doe with a cracked hoof, a stag caught in barbed wire on the top field, and on the last page a young fawn standing side on, its nose lifted toward the right-hand margin. She had ringed it with daisies and a tangle of sprigs and ivy, the same way she used to frame the seed packets she sold at market before Dad's back went. Her pen had run dry partway down the fawn's flank, so the spots were only suggestions.

I asked her about it over tea. She said the fawn was from the spring the hay failed, when she had nothing to feed anyone but the hope of the grass. She said it stood inside the frame because the frame was the only fence she could build that year. I thought that was daft and told her so, and she laughed the way she did when she was pleased with me and tired of saying it.

The thaw came in March, all at once, the way it does on this side of the county. I found the ledger open on the kitchen table with the fawn's head turned to the window, where the first lamb was steaming on the wet grass. Mum had gone out to the top field with the bucket. I took my pencil and drew a thin line from the fawn's nose to the open door, and then I left it there.