Two matching black line tattoos of a stag head with antlers and leaves, one on each ankle.

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Matching stag tattoos on ankles

Ankle · Black and grey · Photo

Two near-identical tattoos show a stag's head in profile, with branching antlers and small leaves curling off them. The linework is black and fairly even, with a little shading along the muzzle and neck. The left tattoo sits on an ankle above a woven cord bracelet, and the right is shown on a second ankle against a plain background.

Ankle Stag Deer Antler Leaves Matching

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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

Hush now, and let the dough rest, because the oven won't take the loaves until the stag has finished crossing the hill. You want the story of the Hadley sisters? Their mother kept the bakery on Crane Lane, the one with the blue shutters, and she rose at three every morning to light the ovens with kindling gathered from the hedgerows. The girls were twins, and they quarrelled as twins do, over who would sweep the flour first and who would get the heel of the loaf.

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One February, before the bells, a stag came down from the wood beyond the mill. Its antlers were branched like winter willow and strung with leaves that had no business being green in that cold. It walked straight past the bins to the back step, where the warm air from the vents came out in a sweet cloud. Mags wanted to fetch the broom and chase it off. Ione broke a corner from the cooling tray and held it out on her flat palm, and the stag bent its proud head and took the bread so gently that not one crumb fell. As it turned for the lane, a single leaf came loose from its antler and landed in her hand.

Ione pressed that leaf between the pages of the ledger, and it's still there, I'm told, though the ledger has been sold twice since. The sisters grew up and moved to different towns, one to the fishing harbour and one to the hill farms, and they wrote to each other only at Christmas. Each card had a stag drawn in the corner, always facing left, always with leaves curling off the tines, and neither of them ever said why.

Now the oven's roaring and the first tray is ready. Pull on the cloth, lift it out, and tap the base the way your mother taught you. Break it in two and give the bigger half to whoever is nearest. Mind the steam, it's hotter than you think.