Pastel colour tattoo of a winged unicorn rearing up with a rainbow mane, on the inner forearm near the wrist.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Winged unicorn on an inner forearm

Fine line · Forearm · Colour · Photo

A winged unicorn rears up on one leg with its wings spread, shown with a soft outline and a rainbow mane and tail. The shading is smooth and blended, using lilac, blue, pink and yellow ink with small highlights on the body. The tattoo sits on the forearm close to the wrist, photographed against a red background.

Fine line Forearm Unicorn Wing Rainbow Horse

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The orchard wall at Hollin Cross had a gap in it the width of a wheelbarrow, and nobody in the village could say who had knocked the stones loose. Old Mrs Tanner said it was the frost. Her grandson said it was the goats. The Pell girls, who were nine and ten and certain of most things, said the white mare had come through it every August for as long as they could remember, and that she was not a mare at all.

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In the last week of August the apples came down heavy in the night, and Tom Pell, who was sixteen and had been sent to fetch them in before the wasps got them, found the mare standing under the Bramley tree with the windfalls scattered round her hooves. Her coat was the colour of skimmed milk with a blue cast to it, like the sky after rain. Along her neck ran a mane that changed as the light moved, pink to yellow to a green he had no name for. From the middle of her forehead rose a single spiralled horn, pale as a peeled stick. He was about to shout when she lifted her head and looked at him, and he saw that she had been crying, or the orchard had.

She did not speak. She only rose up on her back legs, wings lifting from her flanks like a pair of cloud-thin shawls, and for a moment the whole orchard was lit blue and gold as if someone had opened a window on a morning that hadn't happened yet. Then she came down, took the stone wall in a single bound, and was gone over the hill.

Tom gathered the apples and carried them home. He never told anyone what he had seen, though he left the gap unmended, and every August after that the Bramleys came in sweeter than any others in the county.