Black and grey realism style tattoo of a small spotted fawn standing side on, on the inner forearm of a pale-skinned person wearing a white lace top.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fawn tattoo on the inner arm

Realism · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows a small young deer standing in profile, with its head raised and its weight on its slender legs. The spots along its back and the shading on its body and legs are rendered in soft grey and black ink, giving a gentle, realistic finish. The design sits alone on pale skin against a plain light background, with a white lace sleeve at the left edge of the frame.

Realism Forearm Fawn Deer Spots Animal

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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

Mrs Penhallow kept the boarding house on the cliff road for thirty-one summers, and she had one rule about the back bedroom: nobody slept in it after the first of September. I was eleven the year the lodger came, and the fawn came before him. It was a wet August morning when my brother Tom found it wedged behind the bins, all knees and wet ears, too tired to run.

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We fed it warm milk from a saucer. Mother said it would have to go to the farm at Trewin by the weekend, and Tom cried into the cat's fur. The lodger, Mr Ashdown, a thin man who sketched the harbour every morning before breakfast, asked if he might draw it. He sat on the back step with his board on his knees while the fawn stood in profile on the flagstones, head lifted as if it had heard its name called from the far end of the lane. He worked in soft grey and let the shadows pool under its belly. He pressed his thumb into the charcoal to make the spots.

He left on the Saturday without paying the last week. The fawn went to the farm. Mother scrubbed the back bedroom for the next lodgers and found, behind the wardrobe, a drawing pinned to the plaster. It was the same fawn, but its head was turned towards the window and the sea, and someone had signed it with a small, neat A.

I kept it. Tom says it is the only thing the lodger left that was worth anything, and Mother says it is the only thing he owed us. Every September I still open the back bedroom and stand in the doorway, and the fawn is always looking past me, out at the water, as though it knows the way home and is only waiting for the tide to turn.