Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Unicorn with ice cream horn on a forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A single-line unicorn head faces left, with a flowing mane of several wavy strands and a horn drawn as a waffle cone with ice cream dripping down it. The linework is thin and even, with no shading, and the outline sits on smooth skin against a plain white top. The design is in black ink only and is centred on the forearm, with a blurred background.

Fine line Forearm Unicorn Ice cream Horse Mane

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Gather round, you lot, and mind the sticky bits. This is the tale of Marjorie the unicorn, who had the finest mane in all of Pennock Vale and the saddest horn. It was a proper spiral of stone, the sort a wizard would give his eyeteeth for, but it had got itself stuck halfway up a wall one wet Tuesday and Marjorie could not get it free without tearing a hole in her dignity.

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So the fox from the bakery, who owed her a favour over a pilfered loaf, came sniffing round with a waffle cone he had been keeping for a rainy day. He pressed it on the horn like a man crowning a king. Then he said, in his oily little way, that if she wanted a better shape to her crown she would have to let the sun get at it. Marjorie did not trust foxes. She trusted sugar. She stood very still while the fat summer sun worked its slow magic, and the cream began to run down the cone in long, lazy strands, dripping onto her poor brow, and she did not once complain.

By evening the whole village was out on the green, licking their fingers and staring. The stone horn was gone, the cone sat neat on her head, and the wall never stood a chance. Marjorie tossed her mane, which the children swore was the wavy kind that catches the light, and trotted off toward the sea. The fox was left with a sticky paw and one very cross bakery owner, which, as the fox always said, was fair enough for a loaf of bread.