Black and grey tattoo of a hare's head inside a dotwork diamond frame, placed on the upper arm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Hare in a diamond frame on upper arm

Dotwork · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

A large hare's head with long ears and whiskers sits centrally within a large diamond outline. The hare is rendered in fine shading and detailed texture, while the background diamond is filled with stippled dots. The image is in black and grey, shown close up on an upper arm against a plain green background.

Dotwork Realism Geometric Upper arm Hare Rabbit Diamond Whiskers Animal portrait

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Sit closer, the lot of you, the fire won't come to you. Did I ever tell you about Brother Anselm and the hare that ate the cabbages at Saint Wyn's? No? Then hush. The masons who built that house laid the north wall in diamonds, one point up and one point down, so that a man walking the cloister could see the sky through the stone when the snow lay thick.

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The prior sent Anselm out one dusk with a snare and a sour face, because the kitchen garden was being stripped row by row. He found the thief sitting in the widest diamond of the wall, ears up like two lit candles, and its eye looked at him as if he were the one who'd come in uninvited. Anselm set no snare that night. He sat down on the frozen step and the two of them watched the last light go out of the sky, and neither moved until the bell for compline.

They kept that arrangement for thirty winters. Anselm grew stooped and his hands went to knots, and the hare grew grey about the muzzle and came every evening all the same, to the same diamond, as regular as the office. The prior died, then the next prior, and nobody thought to ask why the cabbages were planted in a double row along the north path.

When Anselm died in the Advent frost, young Tobias found the hare sitting in its diamond at first light, very still, the frost settling on its whiskers like fine stipple. He could have shooed it off. Instead he went to the garden, cut the outer row of cabbages, and left them on the step. To this day, the cabbages at Saint Wyn's are planted double along the north path, and nobody cuts the outer row.