Black and grey fine line tattoo of a stag head with antlers on the back of a woman's neck, photographed from behind with her hair in a bun.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Small stag head tattoo at the base of the neck

Fine line · Neck · Black and grey · Photo

A small stag head with branching antlers is tattooed on the back of the neck, just below the hairline. The linework is fine and the head is shaded with dark solid ink, giving it a crisp silhouette. The photograph is black and white, with the woman shown from behind against a plain pale background, so the tattoo is the clear focal point.

Fine line Neck Antler Deer

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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

...and so the hart came down to the burn every October, and would not drink until the bell in the ruined tower had rung three times, for that was the bargain the Lairds of Corrie Mhor struck with the hill before there was a roof on the keep. Mind that, you at the back. Sit where the rain can't reach you. This wall has forgotten its roof and only remembers the wind.

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Fionn Gorrie, the steward's boy, was sixteen the year the barley rotted in the furrow. His bow was taller than he was, and his mother had nothing to put in the pot. He went up the glen before the bell had sounded and found the stag standing knee-deep in the water, its antlers branched like a winter oak. Fionn drew. The hart did not run. It turned its great head and looked at him the way the old laird looked at a bad ledger, patient and unsurprised.

Take what you need, that look said, but leave the head. Fionn lowered the bow and walked home with empty hands, and his mother cried into the ash of the hearth. At dawn the steward found the granary door standing open, sacks of meal stacked to the rafters. Above the lintel, someone had cut a stag's head into the stone, antlers spread wide, no bigger than a man's palm. The mason swore it was not his work. Nobody in Corrie Mhor has ever owned to it.

So if you go up that glen this October with a bow across your back, leave the arrows in the quiver and let the bell ring three times. And if you're hungry, go to the lintel and lay your hand on the stone. You'll feel where the cuts are still warm.