Fine line black tattoo of a small fawn inside a thin circle, with leaf shapes above it, on a woman's calf.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fawn in a circle on a calf

Fine line · Calf · Black and grey · Photo

A seated woman with her leg raised shows a small fawn drawn in delicate black linework inside a thin circular outline, with a couple of leaf shapes above. The design is mostly open outline with light fill and a little shading, and it sits against pale skin. The image is in black and grey, with a blurred green plant and a wooden deck in the background.

Fine line Calf Fawn Deer Circle Leaves

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, the lot of you, because the fire is going down and Hollin Wood does not wait for anybody. My grandmother said the fawn came out of the bracken the winter the old oak fell, and it came out inside a ring of frost so clean you could have drawn it with a compass. Nobody in Ashby Cross believed her until the miller's boy went looking for it.

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The boy was called Ned Pyle, and he was nine, with a catapult in one pocket and a heel of bread in the other. He followed a small brown shape through the hazel until the trees thinned and the path bent round in a circle, as if the wood had been folded over on itself. Above him hung three leaves shaped like the tips of ferns, and not one of them moved, even when the wind came up the valley.

The fawn stopped at the centre of the ring and looked at him, the way a shopkeeper looks at a coin he suspects. Ned did not throw the stone. He sat down in the cold grass, broke the bread in half and held it out, and they stayed there together while the stars turned over the hollow and the frost crept in silver lines to the edge of the circle and no further.

When the sun came up he was alone, the bread gone, and three dry leaves lay in his palm that he could never bring himself to throw away. Ned grew old and kept the mill, and every spring he walked the long way round the hazel so he would not have to cross that ring. Mind your step on the way home, all of you. The path is shorter than it looks.