Black and grey geometric fox head tattoo with patterned ears and dotwork shading, on the inner forearm of a person wearing a striped sleeve.

Symmetrical fox head on a forearm

Geometric · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A symmetrical fox-like head is tattooed on the forearm, with large pointed ears filled with triangle and zigzag patterns and a central diamond and scroll motif. The linework is bold and clean, with dotwork stippling creating soft shading on the cheeks and around the eyes. The photograph is taken at an angle indoors, with the striped sleeve pushed up above the tattoo.

Geometric Dotwork Forearm Fox Head Symmetry Diamond Scroll Triangle

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Old Ruth Hallam kept the key to Greyhowe gate on a length of red wool, and every autumn she swore the castle had been built the wrong way round. The walls faced inward, she said, as if the stones had been told to keep something in. Her grandson Tom thought this was the sort of thing old women said, right up until the morning a fox came up the scree and sat down before the gatehouse as though it had an appointment.

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It was a dog fox with its face split clean down the middle, each half drawn in soft grey dots, and each ear banded with zigzags like the hem of a good shawl. Ruth had told him Greyhowe foxes came in mirror pairs, one to watch the road and one to watch the well, and that a man wanting in must say which half he had come to see. Tom said he had come about the bolt, which had rusted solid. The fox looked past him at the keystone, where a carved diamond sat inside a spiral of scrolls, and then looked back.

Ruth had warned him about that too. The gate opened for a true thing said aloud, not for a bolt. So Tom told the fox about his father's van, sold for scrap the spring after the funeral, and how he had driven past the yard every week since without stopping. Both halves of the face listened. When he finished, the diamond in the keystone warmed like a coin in a pocket, and the stones gave a long sigh.

The gate swung open onto a courtyard of nettles and sunlight. Nothing waited inside but a stone well and a ring of triangles scratched into the flags, with a single russet hair caught on the iron. When Tom turned round, the fox had gone. He told Ruth that evening, and she only nodded and said the well had always been the honest half.