Traditional style tattoo of a stag head with antlers and leaves on a forearm, with a green and grey leaf rosette above it.

Stag head and leaf rosette on a forearm

Traditional · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A stag's head with branching antlers and leaves sits on the inner forearm, with a large symmetrical rosette of leaves and petals above it. The bold black outlines and flat, solid fills are typical of traditional tattooing, with some shading on the stag's face. The palette uses muted greens, greys and browns with orange accents, against a dark background that makes the design stand out.

Traditional Botanical Forearm Stag Deer Antler Leaves Rosette Mandala Flower

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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

Dear Wren, the rain has not let up since Tuesday and the upper pasture is a bog you could lose a boot in. I did what you asked and took the cart down to the Thursday market in Ashdown, though I doubt you'll believe me when I say the stall with the brass scales was still there, and the old woman who sells honey from the blue jars gave me two extra for nothing. She said to tell you the stag had been seen at the edge of the larches again, a big one, antlers like a burnt hedge. I told her you'd be pleased, though you never said you wanted to be.

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The rosette you sent in the envelope came out well. I took it to Ruth at the bindery, the one who cuts the leather for the saddlers, and she laid it on the counter under the lamp and said the leaves were the wrong way round, that stag-leaves turn toward the light and yours were turned in on themselves like a closed fist. I didn't know what she meant until I looked again at the way you'd drawn the petals, all curling inward, as if the whole flower were listening. I have not told her she was right. I have only kept the pattern in my coat pocket and touched it on the walk back.

The river is up over the stepping stones, so I came home by the ridge and got wet through twice. When I reached the gate the stag was standing in the field, close enough to see the orange on the tips of his antlers, and he didn't run. He just looked at me the way the honey woman looked, as though I were a message he had been waiting for someone else to deliver. I stood there until the rain came in sideways and then I left him to it. Come home before the frost. The kettle is on the hook, and the gate still sticks.