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♥saddleseat♥ January 20, 2011 at 4:39 pm

i dont really like the look and style of those halters, i know my horses would not want to wear cowhide on their noses if it was up to them and they knew about where it came from i just go to tractor supply and get the $20 nylon halters from there, they last and come in the colors that i want but if you are going to do that then thats great its up to you, for an actual personal handmade one then i would have to know how good of quality it is esp if its your first couple of triesbut since it is handmade then i would give probably about $40-$50 starting out if you want a really good thing to do though, we have a mexican man who can make ANYTHING out of ANYTHING, he makes mortar and pestle sets out of oak wood for grinding up medicine for the animals, he takes the little strings off the feed bags and makes bridles, reins, halters, leads, pretty much anything having to do with horses out of them and they are really really dependable and super strong here is a pic of the reins that he made for my mom, she is using them on my single-footing TWH who is really headstrong and pulls a lot so they have to be strong for him (its not upclose but it just shows how they look) http://i204.photobucket.com/albums/bb188/Doodle_Cakes/snowride017.jpgbut i really think that would be a good idea to do too, if you didnt make it far with the cowhide halters then just use feed bag strings and make horse equipment from that

Vansig January 21, 2011 at 4:57 am

are these raw hides? or tanned? there may be a difference in proceduretough leather can be made more pliable by spreading the right kind of grease on it and flexing it several times to work it in. it also improves water resistance.some quotes…”Frequent oiling of leather, with mink oil, neatsfoot oil or a similar material, keeps it supple and improves its lifespan dramatically.”"Prehistoric and primitive peoples preserved pelts with grease and smoke”"Rawhide is stiffer and more brittle than other forms of leather”

twilightbaby65621 January 21, 2011 at 4:24 pm

I love your idea! (I’m kind of jealous that I didn’t think of it first.)I’m kind of confused how Kaine and Orion are brothers. . .I’m guessing that they can be related without being the same animal? Are the parents Black Bloods also? Is that how Kaine and Orion turned out? Like their Mum was a tiger and their Dad a wolf? Or are their parents human and Kain and Orion were just ‘freaks of nature’?(Sorry, I put too much thought into things.)But over all, nice idea and great characters! I love Shelby already! She sounds soo cute! Keep up with the good work! I’ll be waiting for updates! xx

Ford January 22, 2011 at 5:02 am

Totally lost interest by the second paragraph. Sorry.

Hippie ♥ Chick ○Loves Christmastime○ January 22, 2011 at 5:01 pm

Well, first you need a plot. You can write random scenes all you want, but they aren’t going to matter unless they are all connected with a storyline. You have an idea. I can see that. You’re at the fun stage right now. You get to create. What if the world was like this? What if your character was like this? What if the demon was like this? What if the demon did this to that character? What if the character did this to the demon? What if this happened? What if that happened? What would the character do? My plots do start out with random scenes in my head. Though, I don’t write them down until they have developed more. This can take for as long as a few months, maybe less, to years. It all depends on how your mind works. On what clicks for you. And what overall transforms into a storyline.

franni January 23, 2011 at 5:06 am

Behind Cupped PalmsIt all started with her name. We were sitting in our sixth grade homeroom, all nervously scooping each other out; who was pretty, who had a uni-brow, how many pimples each kid from elementary school had accumulated over the summer; waiting for someone to comment on the skirt we all knew was too short, and the girl without the legs to wear it; wishing for someone to drop the back of an earring, so the pressure and sweat off our necks would evaporate as she scrambled under the desks, finally to retrieve her silver clasp and stick it in the back of her ear, behind her veil of hair, newly straightened for the first time. They would put us in rows by the alphabet; from the corners of my eyes, I stood, nervously looking around me, doubting that some of the kids in the class could recite the entire thing, and I knew where my seat would be. Even though my surroundings were foreign and my fellow classmates I had only just met, I knew one thing, Chelsea. We’d gone to elementary school together. She’d been the most popular girl in the fifth grade. We’d never been close friends, but once, at recess, she asked me if I would play hide and seek with “them”. I was so overjoyed and innocent, I didn’t check for risks. I was the shyest girl in our grade, hiding behind the bangs that I only decided to grow out freshman year of high school. They’d left me hiding under the little alcove that the tire and wood playground hid. Everyone already knew where it was. It was only afterwards that I figured this out, realizing as soon as Chelsea released her excuse, (apparently I was a really good hider and should be proud) we would forever be enemies. It was also the first time I realized what it meant when girls walk away, tittering and whispering behind cupped palms. That day in homeroom, a ridiculous, pointless waste of ten minutes in the morning, and until you get to high school, another ten in the afternoon, we were still trapped in. I got stuck standing between Chelsea and this boy, Tommy (?), who wore these coke bottle glasses. Really… they looked like his parents couldn’t afford real glasses, and just cut off the bottom of glass bottles and stuck a piece of wire around them. But, I had the slightest instinct that he had a butt load of money. If I ever get the chance, I’ll find my sixth grade yearbook, search out what his last name was, and look him up. Chances are that now, he’s a stud, has an earring, and is married to some Belgian model. But Tommy has no point in this, other than one incidence at lunch, and even at that, it’s stretching his noble purpose in our lives. Oh, and for the hell of it, to my left was this kid named Tristan. He was in the popular group, but he always farted in class, and even if it wasn’t him, he did it frequently enough so that he was sure to blame if you ever needed him. Tristan… well, he’s not important in this either, though I’m sure I blamed something on him at one point in sixth grade. After we were arranged in our seats laid out in alphabetical order, we settled for staring at the kids who hadn’t gotten put into desks yet, silently and synchronized deciding who would be our sixth grade popular group. A girl with pretty blonde hair, curled in subtle waves, towering over and over itself was called next: Hilary, with only one “L”. After a week of hearing this, we got sick of her, even if her hair was excellent. The last person to be called was a shy looking girl, her face partially obscured by her massive side bangs and the rest of her thigh-length hair secured in a long, tight braid. A thin leather cord with a little silver star held it all together to keep our eyes in stare a few seconds longer. She looked afraid to be standing up there by herself, but she had to have known it was coming. After all, a kid with the last name Yoraz had just been called before her. There’s not much room for another kid to squeak in after her. But the teacher looked down at her paper once, opened her mouth, then surprised, took a second glance down at the roster. Her eyes flitted to the girl, still standing at the front of the room, khaki capris and crimson cotton shirt, embroidered with blue hyacinths, or some flower like that. So the teacher looked up at her, and, with the most American accent that I’ve ever heard, “Sackery Zeenay”. Our eyes shifted, all gawking in her direction, and I could faintly hear Chelsea’s snickers from in front of me. With dignity even I hadn’t thought a sixth grader could possess, she stared our teacher in the eye. It was then that I realized her eyes, a denim blue, something that would have been less surprising if her skin wasn’t it’s shade of golden brown. She said, speaking slowly and with a slight accent that I wouldn’t be able to place for three years, “It’s Suh-kah-ree Zeh-nah.” She repeated it again, faster. With a withering look from the teacher and a slightly audible gasp from the class, she sat down in the last seat, her last interruption for the day, many days, actually. But almost three years later, I would approach her, and tell her that I remembered that day; the reason that I wanted to talk to her so much that night, when I was supposed to be working on my math homework, instead I said her name. The syllables rolled off my tongue, it’s cinnamon taste lingered in my mouth, turning our dinner of chicken, string beans, and mashed potatoes, red and sweet. that was a pleasure. to edit and to read. if you want me to edit any more continuations feel free to email me i’d love to do it.

Dan B January 23, 2011 at 5:07 pm

Sorry to disappoint you “Kid” but tanning a hide and hoping it will come out like you described it is VERY labor intensive. There are all kinds of hokey formulas out there that people will try to pass off on you, but the truth of the matter is that neither you nor I want to do ALL the work that is required to make that hide nice and clean furred on one side and soft leather on the other. I can’t emphasize enough just how hard that is to do when you do it right. And if you are going to do it at all, isn’t it worth doing right?. In the final stages, you have to do what is called “breaking” the hide which is to haul it back and forth across a beam to break down the stiffened leather and make it soft again after a GOOD tanning process has taken place. (The native women of Alaska and Canada accomplished this centuries ago by chewing the leather soft and literally wore away their teeth in the process, TRUE!) Modern tanneries accomplish the breaking of the hide and soften it by putting the finished and tanned hide in large drums with other hides where they may be tumbled for days on end until they are as soft as can be made. Also, brighteners are added to tumblers to clean and brighten the hair and to remove chemicals that were soaked into the hair during the tanning process. I have been a master taxidermist. I learned in my early years that trying to do my own tanning was too much work and far less satisfactory than what I could get from a tannery for a reasonable price considering what I got back. With your best interests at heart, I HIGHLY recommend you look in the yellow pages of your phone book for a good tannery. You might have to take your deer hide to a taxidermist and have them forward it to a tannery. But when all is said and done, you WILL be a WHOLE lot happier and satisfied with what you get back than if you try to tan it using guesses and trial and error. Inevitably, at the rate you have started out with NO idea if what you were doing was even right or not, it will be just a matter of time before you throw it away out of frustration and disappointment. Don’t risk that. It’s worth having it done right by a professional. Good luck.