Black and grey dotwork tattoo of a shaded crescent moon with fine line circles and arrows on the forearm.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Moon and geometric circles on a forearm

Dotwork · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A stippled crescent moon sits at the top of the design, with overlapping fine line circles and a vertical axis of straight lines and small arrows running down beneath it. The moon is shaded with dense dots, while the circles and lines are drawn in thin, delicate strokes. The design is set in black and grey ink on the inner forearm, against a dark top and a pendant necklace.

Dotwork Geometric Fine line Forearm Moon Crescent moon Circle Line Arrow Dot

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The lamp had guttered twice before Wenna got the dividers to sit true on the brass plate, and still the moon would not stop sliding off her marks. Master Ferrow said the moon never wandered for anyone who counted properly, so she counted again, circle over circle, until the arcs met in one stubborn point every time. Her fingers were stiff with cold. Below the tower the river ran black and loud, and somewhere past it the border stones of Ardeth were lying to everyone.

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The surveyors before Ferrow had drawn the boundary along the river bend for forty years. Hollin's tax-men had taken the water meadows on the strength of those maps, and each spring the floods proved the lines wrong by another hand's width. The king wanted it settled before the thaw. He wanted a true line from the crescent of the sky down to the marker stone, and nothing else.

She set the line by the arrows, one small mark at a time, the way the old instruments were meant to be used. It ran down through the rings, past the little circle that held the stone, and did not bend toward the river at all. It ran straight into the hill behind the mill, where nobody had surveyed in living memory.

At dawn she walked it with a spade and a lantern, though she knew the moon would be gone by then. Under the turf lay a flat stone with a ring cut into it, and beneath that a sealed box holding the first sheet, the honest one, drawn before anyone had thought to lie. She left the dividers open on the table in the tower, the points still pressed to the paper.