Welcome to Canis Major

a wolf and animal rpg (role-playing game)

Canis is a writing community for play-by-post (forum-based), freeform roleplay set in a fictional dream world in the intrusion fantasy genre. Most characters on Canis are wolves; many play elements are focused around wolves and canids, but the world makes room for a large variety of other animal characters such as dogs, horses, cats, bears, deer, and many, many more.

Our community is focused on flexibility, creativity, and collaboration. That boils down to a few important features:

  • There is no set activity requirement to write
  • The setting and plot are member-created and staff-supported
  • The game is continuously improved to increase fun and decrease stress

Learn more in our Rulebook!

Announcements
x February 23: Shiroshika has disbanded

AW
of greater tomorrows

#1
AW
Caelistis
01-09-2025, 10:51 AM (This post was last modified: 01-13-2025, 02:52 PM by Igor. Edited 1 time in total.)
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For @Cassian <3


Igor had lived to be an old wolf in his homeland. He had sired many children with his beautiful mate, a union blessed by both moon and stars, and through them had become a revered grandfather, rich in tales and wisdom. His family was an expansive oak, roots deeply set in the earth, thriving in ways Igor had once scarcely allowed himself to dream. Prior to him taking over rulership, his pack was small, weak, barely hanging on by a thread as they suffered from sickness and starvation.

It wasn't until his father died and Igor took on the mantle of leadership as his own did the pack start thriving. It was his first act as leader that he made his most fateful decree that would change the lives of his pack: they would migrate, leaving behind the familiar comforts of their ancestral land, a place held sacred by his kin for generations before his own. This decision, however, cast ripples of dissent through the elders of the pack, who clung tightly to the sacred tenets of tradition. They warned him of the gods’ wrath, of the shame that would befall them, yet Igor stood resolute. He understood the weight of tradition but refused to become mired in it. He believed in the promise of tomorrow, in the unfurling path of the future—a future that demanded courage, even if it meant angering the very gods they praised. Igor could not forsake the future of his pack to please the elders of his home.

As the seasons passed the pack began to flourish under his watchful gaze until they grew into a powerhouse of resilience and unity that they were known for today.

Now, in the twilight of his years, Igor lay upon a bed fashioned from the tanned hides of their hunts—soft, fragrant, and cradling him in a warmth built from years of love and labor. His body, once a vessel of strength, now relaxed, watched over by the gentle presence of his beloved wife, their offspring, and the bright eyes of grandchildren who held within them the flickering embers of his legacy. As the breath of life ebbed from his body—slow and deliberate, like the waning sun—he felt an abiding serenity. His heart swelled with quiet conviction; his chosen heir was a reflection of his own spirit—thoughtful, strong, empathetic yet unyielding. With the counsel of his mother by his side, the future was bright with promise. A strong support system his son had; everything every leader needed during their own crowning.

With those musings in mind Igor passed away blissfully and without worry for his pack’s future.



The first thing Igor recognized when he came to awareness was the freezing cold ground that leeched any body warmth he might have had from his body. His muscles and joints ached and when he shifted he felt several pops and cracks. A grunt left him as he blinked weary blue gray eyes open to witness a vast landscape smothered in a blanket of white snow. The sky, a mass of deep blue and black sprinkled with stardust and glowing with an aurora borealis greeted him. It was nothing new to witness per say, but what ticked him off of this place being someplace different was the fact he woke alone with no one by his side and the scent of a pack filtering through his nose prompted him to stand.

He was trespassing even if he had not meant to. Waking up in a land so foreign from his own was odd enough, something that would normally send someone else panicking. Not Igor though as he stood there like a stalwart rock, unmovable and outwardly unflappable. The man lifted his head to the sky and let out a howl, one to announce his presence. He could only hope for forgiveness for erring.


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#2
Adventurer
Caelistis
01-09-2025, 06:17 PM (This post was last modified: 4 hours ago by Cassian. Edited 6 times in total.)
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#3
01-10-2025, 09:25 AM (This post was last modified: 01-13-2025, 02:51 PM by Igor. Edited 1 time in total.)
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notes here


While he waited for someone of authority within the pack, Igor took the time to look over the winter-blessed landscape. It was a stark contrast to his homeland of frozen tundra and vast, wind-swept plains, where ice sheets creaked and groaned underfoot and the landscape offered little in the way of shelter or concealment. Here, nestled in the cradle of a mountain range, Igor found himself enveloped by towering pines that stood like ancient sentinels, their dark green boughs heavy with freshly fallen snow. Jagged cliffs and rocky outcroppings loomed overhead, cloaked in a delicate blanket of ice and snow, glistening like diamonds under the pale winter full moon.

Each breath he took filled his lungs with the crisp, invigorating air, punctuated by the faintest whisper of pine resin. With a pleased little gleam in his murky blue grey eyes, he stood amidst the rugged interplay of rock and snow, marveling at the raw beauty that the untamable North hid. Whomever owned this land was undeniably blessed; it had all the makings of a defensible stronghold, with its high vantage points and natural barriers, combined with a tranquil haven for those fortunate enough to inhabit it.

Just then, the wind shifted, carrying with it the rich, earthy scents of oakmoss and cedar. His nose twitched reflexively as he deeply inhaled the scent that spoke of rainy afternoons spent underneath evergreen trees. Turning his head slightly, he caught sight of a figure approaching—a man swathed in colors reminiscent of his own, a striking palette of monochromatic hues with striking black accents breaking up the uniformity. Though they shared a similar height, this man was smaller in stature, almost delicate compared to Igor’s hulking frame. Where Igor projected raw power and might, he was not one to intentionally wield his size as a tool of intimidation. Instead, he carried himself with a quiet confidence, a strength that came from within. It was encouraging to see that this newcomer did not hesitate to approach him, a boldness that Igor found refreshing.

He must be someone with authority from the way he upheld himself and spoke. Igor blinked slowly, done with his appraisal before turning his mind inwardly to contemplate how he should respond. Igor had awoken to a strange land different, yet familiar in some aspects, to his home. It was basic manners to announce oneself to the reigning ruler and plead some sort of clemency for trespassing, but perhaps he could ask where he was now and maybe, just maybe, this stranger would have some answers for him.

With a deep voice gruff from age, Igor spoke. “I seem to have found myself far from home, but first I must apologize for unintentionally trespassing upon your land.” Igor bowed his head in a slight form of deference; like a Chief among his people who knew he erred and sought forgiveness. “My name is Igor, previous Chieftain of Clan Volkov. I awoke here among these frozen lands of yours at a loss to where I am. May I ask just where I am and who I speak to?”



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#4
Adventurer
Caelistis
01-13-2025, 01:06 PM (This post was last modified: 4 hours ago by Cassian. Edited 5 times in total.)
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#5
01-13-2025, 04:02 PM
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The man's nonchalance and dismissal of Igor's accidental trespassing melted away like snow on stone, easing the tension that had been building within Igor's massive frame. Gradually, he relaxed his posture, shifting from rigidity to a more natural stance. Yet, he couldn’t shake the unease creeping into his thoughts upon learning that he was not the only newcomer to awaken on this man's lands. What were the gods doing? Were they carelessly tossing everyone they could think of in this man's direction? It raised questions he preferred not to ponder, for he had never fancied himself one of the mystics. He was content to leave the interpretations of divine will to those better suited for such tasks. Igor found his purpose in defending and leading his clan—or at least he had, before death stole him away.

Perhaps the elders had possessed some wisdom when they spoke of death as merely the next great adventure one could embark upon. This peculiar situation Igor now found himself in echoed the tall tales he had listened to as a pup. “It would seem so,” he murmured, his deep voice imbued with a softness that belied his size. Steel-gray eyes regarded the smaller man with an intensity that revealed both curiosity and contemplation. “I will accept the gods’ blessings where I can,” he added. Igor was not one to fight fate or make waves; he preferred to go with the flow, following the path the gods set before him with little complaint. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why King Cassian—a foreign yet oddly familiar title—believed he was favored by higher powers.

“Explain,” Igor’s voice was gruff yet edged with curiosity, brows furrowed in confusion as he sought understanding rather than dismissing the stranger’s beliefs outright. “Do you claim to speak for the gods, or do you have someone who does? A kňažka, perhaps?” His dark eyes glinted with intrigue, eager for answers.

Before Cassian could respond, Igor observed the young king's ears perk up with interest, followed by a rapid flow of words in a language Igor regrettably did not speak. Yet the cadence felt familiar, rooted deeply in his ancestry. In that instant, Igor’s cropped ears splayed flat against his large cranium, a flicker of sorrow cutting through his usually stoic features. “I apologize,” he said, a genuine note of regret in his tone. “I have not heard such a tongue since my boyhood, when my matka was alive and well. I share roots with it, yet it escapes me in speech.”


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#6
Adventurer
Caelistis
Visionary
02-04-2025, 06:16 PM (This post was last modified: 02-13-2025, 12:09 PM by Cassian. Edited 1 time in total.)
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#7
02-13-2025, 09:49 AM
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The day a man—a mortal—called himself a God is the day he is felled by his own hubris. Pride in one’s standing was healthy, but any further into arrogance and you tipped the precarious scales a little too far. With a great sigh Igor watched the younger man before him. His countenance gave nothing away, but there was a distinct air of disapproval about him that was telling enough. Igor did not agree that a man could ever become a God. He had no hesitation in voicing such thoughts. “Too much hubris births folly and folly leads to ruin—be it by divine design or your own hand.” He paused, breathing deeply to gather his words. “Be mindful of where you tread, Your Majesty.” On another note, Igor wondered how they kept the separation of absolute power from religion. From the way Cassian was describing it, the king—a man of authority within the pack—was the priest and leader. It was strange for Igor to hear about when his home had been a pack who made conscious effort in keeping those two categories separate.

Igor knew why too, but he was curious to see if this pack Cassian ruled over managed to balance those powers. From the sounds of it, they did, which meant good tidings.

The great bear blinked and took in their surroundings once more, noting the scenery and cold that was starting to bite into his thick, insulated pelt. “The cold is a silent killer,” Igor agreed. “So your God's led you here?” The man asked with a deep rumbling tone—a voice so reminiscent of rolling rocks down a mountain slope. “And what do they tell you when you look upon me? What is your verdict?”

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