A grid of six small fine line black ink designs on pale backgrounds, including mountains with a crescent moon, a tree with stars, a dragon beside a sword, and a ring within a leafy wreath.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Six fine line motif designs in a grid

Fine line · Black and grey · Flash

The image shows six separate small designs arranged in a two by three grid, each on a flat muted background. The designs include mountain peaks with a crescent moon, a bare tree with star-like marks, a leaf or feather shape with a small gem, a dragon curled beside an upright blade, and a ring inside a wreath of leaves. All are drawn in thin black linework with little or no shading, and the flat backgrounds keep the composition simple and evenly spaced.

Fine line Mountain Moon Tree Star Leaf Gem Dragon Sword Ring Wreath

Find an artist for this

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

The shaft at Harrow Cleugh had been dry for three winters when the knocking started, slow and even, like a smith working iron somewhere under the hill. Old Maud said it was the mountain wanting its debts paid, and nobody argued with Maud, who had buried two husbands and outlived the mine's owner.

Keep reading

Her grandson Tam went down with a tallow lamp and a heel of bread. He came back grey to the lips and said the seam opened into a hall where a red beast lay coiled on the slate, thick as pit props, with a short grey blade driven into the rock beside its head. The beast was not asleep. One eye, the size of a dinner plate, rolled towards him, and a voice like a cart on cobbles asked what he had brought to trade.

Tam had nothing but the brass ring his mother had left him, a plain band with ivy scratched round its edge. He held it out, half expecting to be eaten. The beast looked at it a long while, then laughed until dust fell from the roof. "Gold is only heavy," it said. "Give me that, and I will show you where the good coal lies." Tam put the ring in its claw. The blade slid loose from the rock and clattered to the floor, and the beast curled itself around the ring like a cat around a warm stone.

Tam climbed out into a clear dawn. A thin moon hung over the peaks that nobody in the village remembered seeing before, and on the spoil heap a rowan stood thick with frost, though it was only October. Maud took the blade from his hand, rubbed the rust off with her thumb, and hung it over the door. Far below, in the dark, something settled on its gold and began, very softly, to snore.