Fine line black arrow tattoo on the inner upper arm, shown in a photo above a second photo of an arrow tattoo on the ribs.

Small arrow tattoo on upper arm and ribs

Fine line · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

Two photographs of a small single arrow tattoo drawn in thin black linework, with a pointed head and feathered tail. The top image shows it on the inner upper arm near the elbow, and the lower image shows it on the side of the ribs beneath a lifted knitted top. The ink is black with no shading or colour.

Fine line Upper arm Ribs Arrow

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 cattle grid rang under the Land Rover's tyres like a struck pan, and Nell kept her eyes on the white road that ran straight toward Quarry Wells. Behind her, in the footwell, the oilcloth bundle knocked against the jerrycan with every rut. Eleven shafts of ash, each one fletched by her own hands over three winters in Teodor's shed. He had died in February, and the parish office would not take them for the estate, so she was carrying them out herself.

Keep reading

The shop at Quarry Wells sold bows to men who wanted to look like they hunted. The owner, a thin woman called Ines with a biro behind one ear, unwrapped the first shaft and turned it in the light from the door. She ran a thumb along the feathers and frowned. "Who cut these tails?" she asked. "He did. I finished them." Ines nodded slowly and said that nobody bought ash any more. They wanted carbon, grey and cheap and straight every time. Nell took the money anyway, because the bolts in the Land Rover's door needed replacing, and she did not argue about the price.

She drove back with the window down and the heat pressing on her forearm. At the last cattle grid she stopped, reached into the back, and took out the one shaft Ines had handed back, the one with a small crooked feather where Teodor's old thread had frayed. She wedged it on the dashboard, point forward, so the sun caught the black line of it against the glass. Then she put the car in gear and followed the road toward the place where it bent, with something finally pointing the way.