Black outline geometric wolf head design on a white background, drawn with straight angular lines and a solid black eye, suitable as a Geometric style tattoo design.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Geometric wolf head line drawing

Geometric · Black and grey · Flash

A black line drawing of a stylised animal head, most likely a wolf, built from angular straight-edged facets with a small solid black eye. The lines are of even weight and there is no shading, only outlines and a few filled areas. The design sits centrally on a plain white background with a fan of pointed shapes beneath the head.

Geometric Wolf Animal head

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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

Don't look at me like that, I'm getting to the wolf. You want the lift story first, you'll have to wait for the lift like everybody else. Fourteenth floor of Harrow Point, the blocks went up in 1968, and the wolf had been living in the stairwell since the first winter, folded into the concrete the way a shape folds out of paper. Mrs Okonedo's boy swore he'd seen him once, but he was twelve and had been sniffing glue behind the bin store, so nobody believed him.

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Nobody saw the wolf properly. Angles, the old men said. You only ever saw his angles: a point of shoulder over the recycling, a blade of jaw against the window at the top of the stairs where the grey light came in. He had one eye, black and small as a rivet, and he watched the lift cables the way a foreman watches a crane. Every night the lads from the ninth floor leaned their bikes in the fan of pointed shadow beneath the landing, and every morning the bikes were where they'd left them. That was the wolf's doing, Dorothy said, and Dorothy had lived on the fourth floor for forty years and knew things.

The winter the council painted the blocks, they painted the stairwell too, a flat municipal grey for the look of it. Next morning the wolf was lying across the car park in long wet lines, every facet drawn in pale masking tape where they'd cut him out, and nobody could say who had peeled it off. Dorothy swept up the flakes and said he'd gone to find a taller building. I don't believe her. If you go up at dusk and stand where the last light makes a point of your own shadow, you'll feel him watching the cables.