wolf pelts

A mother and her children.

Most countries have a version of the werewolf and a creature sitting on people’s chests at night giving them nightmares. These are the versions from Denmark.

If a pregnant woman wanted an easy birth she could crawl naked through the amniotic sac of a horse during a full moon. This was because people believed horses have the most painless birth of all animals.

She would get an easy birth, but if she had a son he would be a werewolf, and a daughter would be a mare (as in nightmare). Children born this way were sometimes called marewolves (mareulve), combining the two words.

Danish werewolves only had three legs and transformed every night. The werewolf could end his curse in a few different ways. He could eat the heart of a male fetus, so this kind of werewolf often attacked pregnant women. If someone else said to him “You’re a werewolf” the curse would be lifted from him, but be transferred to the person who said it. The safest way to end the curse was for someone to call out his Christian name while he was in wolf form. That would force him to turn into a human, and then a priest could bless him and he would never have to transform again.

Like werewolves the mares walked around during daytime as normal women, but at night they turned into nightmarish creatures who could enter houses as mist. They would hug or sit on people, giving them horrible nightmares. The victim would be able to see them, but they’d be invisible to everyone else. They could be sort-of cured too. If a person saw someone having a horrible nightmare they could throw cold water on them and the mare would appear as a normal person. People could also plug the hole the mare had entered though and trap her in the room. The victim would see her as this terrifying creature all night, but in the morning she would transform into her normal self with no memory of what had happened. She would stay human until someone unplugged the hole at which point she would remember everything and turn into a mist, going back to her mare ways. If she had children during her time as a human she would return at night to make sure they were okay.

Women could also be werewolves if they got hold of a wolf pelt, and men could become mares if they desired someone too much, or was envious of another person’s possessions. Sometimes they became mares randomly, and my favorite male mare story also shows how far a mare could travel in a night:

A Danish farmer walked into his stables at night and saw his horse having a terrible nightmare. He threw cold water on it and suddenly he saw a naked man sitting on it. The man looked at him and said “You shouldn’t have done that. I have a wife and children back in England, but now I’m stuck here”


Finished up a white wolf headdress commission and had my partner model it for me. Danny was thrilled by how soft the pelt was, and wanted to keep it, buuut that wasn’t exactly in the cards (he already has his own wolf pelt headdress anyway!).

I also typically avoid doing blue eyes on wolves (because blue eyes are a dog-specific trait) but in this instance, the eyes were custom-made specifically for this project, and were more of a silver-blue than “husky blue”. 

Lastly, for those wondering: This wolf was provided to me by the customer to mount - I didn’t hunt it, and nor did my customer. The pelt was purchased secondhand, and was sent to me to be made into a headdress. 

Commissions for taxidermy work are currently closed, but will be open again once I’m established on my new property in the fall. 

thekeatoncadet  asked:

please I beg you how did you start a werewolf scare

So, when I lived in Ashland, I suffered from pretty extreme insomnia, and would go for long walks in the middle of the night to make myself tired. I’d be doing 5 - 7 miles of walking a night, sometimes in the forests, and sometimes closer to town. But I always worried about who else I might run into at such odd hours, so I figured that my best defense was being the scariest damned thing out there. Like any self-respecting taxidermist, I did so in a way that was uniquely appropriate, and donned a black wolf pelt headdress each time I left my dorm to wander alone after midnight. 

I did this for several months, during which time, I ran into a few folks here and there, most of whom stared wordlessly until we each went our separate ways.

But I recall once, during a heavy snowfall (around the same time the above photo was actually taken) when I darted out of the woods and into the street right in front of a car that had just turned down a side road, its headlights sweeping over me as I emerged from the trees. I didn’t bother to wave or anything - I just darted across the road and back into more trees on the other side.

A few weeks later, I was at the 7/11 across the street from campus, wearing the same wolf pelt headdress, when the young guy at the register said, “Oh! So YOU’RE the werewolf everyone’s been talking about!”

I hadn’t heard talk about it (and up to this point, only a dozen or so people had ever actually seen me wearing it; I was pretty good at being inconspicuous during my wanderings, despite my unusual attire). So the guy told me that “a bunch” of people around town had been talking about seeing a werewolf near or in Lithia Park….which is exactly where I’d been spotted by that car during the snowfall.  

A short time later, I ended up selling the black wolf pelt headdress, and took to wearing a black coyote headdress instead; but every so often, I would strike up a conversation in town during casual hours, and start telling someone (or someones) about my art…Which brought up exclamations of “Oh! I have a friend/parent/teacher who said they saw a werewolf person once! That must have been you!” 

The kicker to this story is that a few months later, in the spring, I went back into the 7/11 and talked to the same young guy that I had before, and he very eagerly brought me the news that I wasn’t the only person wandering around town with a wolf pelt on anymore. I never did figure out who the second person was, but believe me when I say that I put an honest effort into finding them, and will forever regret that I never did.

I hope he’s still wandering around Ashland late at night with his own wolf pelt on, keeping the locals on their toes.  


My newest wolf beside my first wolf. This one looks like GreyWind from the GoT series so that’s what he will be named.

He’s 7'2" from nose to tailtip so it was hard to find a place to put him. I’m going to be buying some toggle bolts this weekend so I can finally get one of my deer up on the wall above the fireplace. My living room is looking crazier and crazier. Hopefully soon I’ll have the will to re-shape ShaggyDog’s face finally.

This wolf was trapped and sold legally in my province, did not cross provincial or country borders, and is entirely legal for me to have. If you have an issue with wolf trapping or hunting, go elsewhere.

OK so I realize I am the last fucking piece of shit to this party but I literally just realized that this armor is just a fucking coat, a wolf pelt, and armor for his arm and legs 

over his skyhold pjs

I…. i can’t 

he just

over his pjs…. 

and then went on a mission


(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7w4tA97jccs)

In case you never noticed, Solas was at the tavern in Haven before the breach, subtly seen in the background of Varric’s personal trailer. 

Bent over a table, his attention buried in the book he is reading, he briefly sits up straight to stretch his back and returns his attentions to his book. He sits alone in the corner, his fingerless gloves are apparent as is the dark wolf pelt worn upon his right shoulder and his green breeches. He looks up as Varric confronts a drunken patron, then he is lost in the crowd as the breach explodes in the night sky. 

Cassandra: I’ve wondered: How did you know to approach us, Solas?
Cassandra: The Breach opened, we were scrambling and barely had time to think… and there you were.
Solas: I went to see the Breach for myself. I did not know you would be there.
Cassandra: You must not have been far away.
Solas: I was not. I’d come to hear of the Conclave, but did not want to get close.
Cassandra: Hmm. Lucky for us, then.

….’lucky’ indeed.

on rare familiars in Sornieth

We all know that everyone wants the scarce familiars, right? For a certain dragon, or collecting purposes, or even just the money. What if the same thing was true for dragons? Imagine a penniless vagabond that keeps their skycat on a leash so it never leaves their sight. Morally corrupt dragons offer to “hunt down” certain familiars, for a fee. A black market for stolen sprites. Royalty with golden bantam fangars hire special guards just to protect them from thieves. A young dragon with a bone fiend has tied a wolf pelt over its skeletal form so it doesn’t stand out. Imagine the possibilities.

Oneshot fic inspired by this amazing comic.

Comic by the amazing @disteal http://disteal.tumblr.com/image/158383507645

The blizzard had come out of nowhere.

Sweeping over the horizon as McCree and Hanzo scrambled to find shelter in the wilderness outside of Eichenwalde. The scouting mission turning into survival. The two running through the forest, battered by wind and shards of ice. They had personal tents but they would be shredded by the beast barreling behind them.

They had minutes before a white out.

“Here!” Jesse grabbed his hand and yanked him to the side.

He snarled, snatching his hand back. “Your arm if freezing.” The cowboy’s prosthetic chillingly cold. His teeth were chattering as he followed anyway. The fur of his wolf pelt already collecting ice crystals.

The forest lashed around them, seeming to roar. They just needed cover, a wind break, anything except trying to stake a tent down and try to hold out. The tent they had been issued for their stealth mission not meant for more than a light flurry.

The thin bedrolls wouldn’t keep them alive.

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