Neo-traditional jackalope with antlers and long ears, framed by poppies and white blossoms, tattooed on an upper arm.

Jackalope and flowers on an upper arm

Neo-trad · Upper arm · Mixed · Photo

A jackalope with antlered ears and a realistic, shaded face fills the upper arm, with its head turned to the right. Smooth grey shading and dark outlines give the rabbit its form, while a pink-and-yellow poppy, a bud, and white five-petal blossoms with green leaves frame it below. Grey tones dominate the rabbit and foliage, with warm pink and orange used sparingly on the flowers.

Neo-trad Botanical Upper arm Rabbit Antler Poppy Flower Blossom Leaves Bud

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The steward of Hollin Keep sent three men up the scree because the hare had been cropping the poppies along the curtain wall, and the lord had grown tired of seeing them nibbled to stalks. The men found him in the roofless chapel, sitting in the nave where the altar stone had cracked in two. He had antlers like a stag's, branched and grey, and ears as long as oar blades, and when he turned his head toward them his eyes were wet and patient.

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He did not run. He asked them what the chapel had been for before the rain got in, and the eldest man, Osric, who prided himself on knowing things, said it was for prayer. The hare shook his head and said it had been for weddings, and that the bride, a girl called Maud, had carried white blossom up from the orchard in her hands and set it on the altar, and that the bridegroom had gone to the wars and never come home. Osric said that was a tale. The hare said it was only the truth, and that the bud which never opened had been hers.

Tam, the youngest, sat down in the grass beside him and asked for the rest. The other two went back down and told the steward the hare had gone into the walls where no man could follow, and that the poppies were no concern of anyone's now. Tam stayed until the light went amber, listening, and when he finally walked down the hill his pockets held a white flower he did not remember picking.

Every spring after, a pale blossom turns up on the chapel sill, the poppies bloom red and orange along the wall, and in the village they leave a saucer of milk by the door of anyone who has lost someone to the wars.