Fine line tattoo of a stylised fox running along the side of the ribs, in blue-grey ink, with a teal top lifted above it.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Fox tattoo on the ribs

Fine line · Ribs · Colour · Photo

A stylised fox with pointed ears and a long curving tail is drawn in fine, hatched linework across the side of the ribs. The lines are a single blue-grey ink with darker accents at the eye and paws, with no shading. The subject sits low on the frame, with a teal top lifted above it and a hand at the edge of the image.

Find an artist for this

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

The frost had come early to Hollin Edge that year, and by the time Maud Pell noticed her washing line was bare, the fox had already gone over the stile with her best wool stockings in his teeth. She went after him in her nightdress and clogs, which was foolish, and the lantern she carried threw more shadow than light across the stubble.

Keep reading

The wood started where the lane gave up. Maud had walked it all her life and never thought of it as anything but a place for kindling and mushrooms. Tonight the trees leaned in, their bark furred with rime, and every few yards a thin red-gold shape slipped between the trunks ahead of her, long-tailed and unhurried, stopping just long enough to look back with an eye like a struck match.

She followed him to a hollow under a fallen oak, where something had been living that she had never noticed: a row of jars set into the roots, each one stoppered with wax and labelled in her mother's handwriting. Her mother had died the winter before. The fox sat beside the jars with the stockings still hanging from one ear, and waited.

"What do you want?" she asked. He had never once in her memory spoken, but he lifted the stockings and laid them on the wax of the nearest jar, as neatly as a clerk filing a receipt. Then he turned and went deeper into the trees. Maud went home with nothing in her hands but the lantern and the cold, and on her step the next morning she found a single frozen feather, blue-grey at the tip, as though it had been drawn in ink.

More like this

From the plentytattoo archive, uploaded by a user. Is this your work? Ask for credit or removal.