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, though the game also rewards high activity
  • The setting and plot are member-created and staff-supported
  • Writing is collaborative, and so is our supportive community
  • The game is continuously improved to increase fun and decrease stress

Learn more in our Guidebook!

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When I'm banging on the dashboard

#1
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Weather from Siberia, Russia; tags for reference.
@Kuhn


The others did not understand. This was something she had expected, but nevertheless, the side effects of Kuhn's gift to Hrafnsvaktin were annoying to deal with. Or, perhaps they weren't. Part of her had enjoyed dangling her knowledge of the source of frustration in front of that little empress and her dark oaf. Perhaps she enjoyed that her brothers were not as bold as she, to dance with death as she did.
 Valmúa came again to the forests where the cat prowled. Certainly, @Stjörnuáti or @Solpallur had seen her slip away and perhaps thought she might shake her proverbial finger and tell the great Lord Kuhn that he Must Not Hunt On Sookieshi. Tsukshi? Whatever.
 Instead, the fire woman brought no trinket, nor a favour to ask. She appeared with only herself, seeking company from the wise creature. She did not howl to summon him, for this seemed a rude thing for a cat in his own home. Rather, she busied herself with inspecting scent markers along the trees he had left behind. The sister had trailed him once again to this place. She trusted he would find her quickly among his familiar woodland.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#2
The last time they had met, the solitary creature had to admit that he enjoyed the company. There was something about her that he wanted to dig into. Perhaps her elegance, or hunger for life itself. 

It didn't take long for the beast to catch the familiar scent on the wind.  It wasn't to far from where they met the last time she had visited the Everfrost.  Kuhn didn't busy his mind with thinking why she came here,  he didn't know.  There was no other scent's accompanying her either.

He owed her the courtesy of a cordial approach, no need to stalk what was in his hunting ground.  It was from across a clearing where he finally spotted her pelt of fire.  With a mild growl he vocalized casting his voice out to her;  before sauntering across the open ground, tail swinging behind him as his shouldered bobbed two and fro. 

She was bold, he liked that
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#3
 For a good many moments, the poppy girl thought that she might be stalked. If she were he, and had his abilities, she would take joy in toying with her company. Thus, every crack of branches and brush of spruce needles made her eyes dart to the source. She readied herself for a dangerously playful ambush, but none came.
 Instead, he made himself known, and something like a bright smile came over her normally sarcastic features. “Lord Kuhn,” she greeted with a chuff and a dip of her head. Her tail wagged, and her brightness was replaced with an impish grin.
 Rarely did the northerner connect with other people — the fact that it was one not of her species this time seemed almost absurd to those who did not know her, but she had never been cut from the same cloth as the rest of them.
 “You are famous now,” she laughed. “The white one of Shiroshika came to demand things from us with her great black oaf beside her.” Her grin expanded, and Valmúa spun in a partial circle, then back again, dancing on her paws like she had experienced some great theatre and had ached to tell him of it.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#4
If the cat would have known her desire to be playful, he would have put on a show.  But, it was only the second time they had met alone, and most didn't appreciate ending up on the bottom of an ambush, from a nearly half ton feline.  

He was glad to see her again, his normally stoic and removed expression cracked, showing a hint of excitement and warmth as he perked up his chest and ears. "Val..." He replied with a toothy grin, he didn't intend to shorten her name, but lacked the confidence to pronounce it correctly, deciding to roll with it. Dipping his head in, Kuhn rubbed the bridge of his nose across her poppy hide, momentarily forgetting the oddity of the feline greeting. 

Watching her pivot in front of him, "Famous? Shiro...what" He didn't know what she was talking about, but she looked both entertained and eager to tell. So, the tiger looked at her attentively, waiting for the rest of the story, holding his tail high in anticipation.
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#5
 The touch from his face was unexpected and made her jump slightly, but she relaxed quickly as she noted his expression. Being around him made her feel both powerful, powerless, and strangely wanted. He might have been merely an object of decadence, but instead he was both teacher and killer. Her respect for him had been earned.
 She wiggled with anticipation, a girlish nature coming over her as she spilled the beans. “You brought us that caribou from the other mountain, yes?” She asked, though she already knew the answer. She continued. “There are wolves who live on that mountain. They call themselves Shiroshika, and the mountain they named something fáránlegt, eh, silly. Stookeeshi or something,” the poppy girl described, recalling @Reiko's dumb face and her counterpart's even dumber face.
 Valmúa added a pause, thinking about the event, distilling it into something worthy of a story. “Well, the little white empress was not happy about that caribou. I am confident her companion hates me for not relaying your exact whereabouts. They seem to think you are under some "command" and will be "used" against them. Fráleitt. Stupid.”
 She laughed. “You should have seen the looks on their "royal" faces. As if they could own all the caribou on a mountain.” She cackled.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#6
Noticing her jump from his unexpected touch, his whiskers reacted instinctually, keeping contact with the would be prey. He only pulled his head away slowly as he listened to her story of intrigue.

"The caribou..." he purred as he continued to watch and listen to the woman's exited tale.  The beast took a lot in watching her from head to tail, discerning  by not only what she said, but how she pranced about and how she said it. Running his tongue across the side of his blacked lips he thought over what she was saying. The tiger looked back down at the poppy woman with an amused deadly grin, dismissing the complaints of Stookeeshi, or whatever they called it. 

Shaking out his mane, looking bigger than he was, he maintained that same wicked expression, "Could they even take down a caribou?" The cat began to pace, both flexing and stretching his musculature with every step. He swung his tail back and forth in an aggressive yet, graceful manner.
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#7
 His voice was as dangerously alluring as her own — she seemed to feed off of his reactions, delighting at last in the distorted smile he gave back to her. She did not know if it was intended for her or directed toward the targets of her story, yet it excited her regardless.
 Regularly, the thoughts that had spilled and whispered into her mind from when they had first met still sang their choruses:
he could kill you. right now.
 The fire woman grinned back at him, not daring to make eye contact beyond a fleeting blink. “Not as you can,” she noted, flicking her tail as she watched him, mesmerized by the power he presented as his muscles shuffled in each swaggering step. “Their empress is weak. Tiny. She must demand others to do the hunting for her — it is the only way.” Absently, or perhaps even anxiously, she licked her lips.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#8
He might a have been unwittingly been putting on a show for her as it was.  It wasn't exactly out of his temperament to act like this sometimes, but for one reason or another he felt less of an urge to reign himself back.  His outward display of malice, wasn't directed to anyone in particular but rather an expression of dominance from an apex predator. 

Pounding, his heart pumped blood to his extremities, preparing him for a fight that was not to be had.  She seemed to be stroking his ego a bit as he kneaded the forest floor with his claws.  His testosterone got the best of him and it was likely written all over his scent.  Exhaling a plume of foggy breath, he sat down on his hind legs, stretching out the tension in his neck. Still pounding, his heart was slowing back down as he watched her lick her lips from the corner of his eye. 

"I guess it doesn't matter, I'm not part of a pack. I have my own rules to live by." He continued, much calmer, keeping a touch of that dangerous smirk and tone, eyeing her form over his shoulder.
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#9
 She watched him fret. She watched him fuss, pacing, back and forth. She saw and tasted his antsy, hungered demeanour. Valmúa was not stupid. This was not about what she had to say. There was more to the Lord than he was letting on, and he perhaps did not even know it himself.
 Dangerously, as he sat, she lay down, crawling meagrely toward him with a playful flick of her front paw metres away. He had his own rules to live by. This was true. She thought he might delight in the absurdity of another telling him what rules should be, but she saw him in another space.
 “My friend,” she offered. “Is it a woman that ails you?”
 She continued. “If it is not, perhaps your body tells you it is.” She thought she had learned the signs of maleness in wolves. She knew when they behaved as they did for dumb reasons. Kuhn was different. She did not know if her read was correct, but something was different.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#10
He let a long moment pass watching her silently, his ear twitched as he eyed her with a dilated pupil. If she assumed part of his excitement was in part the absurdity of someone telling him how the rules should be, she would be partially right, but there was more to it...

He watched her meagerly and playfully make her way closer to him, his expression seemed to soften, his ears lifting from their tucked positions. Pivoting half way around the cat lowered his top half to the ground assuming a crouched position facing the woman as his tail danced behind him. "A woman, ailing me? I don't... what do you mean..."

All the while, he kept a nearly unreadable expression of focus centered in his feline eyes as his weight remained relaxed yet loading into his hind legs.
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#11
Misc Skill
 The musk of his scent was undeniable, but he had always smelled strongly to her. In particular, she had almost forgotten the strength of the odour in cat urine that he'd left on trees within the woodland. As the great Lord crouched, she maintained a flatness against the ground as she tried to figure out his truth. He did not provide many clues, apart from his apparent distraction.
 “I mean there is something that grabs your attention,” she answered with a sweet, spicy flick of her tongue. “My Lord, you reek of maleness,” she observed. “So if it is not a woman, then what?”
 Ever the poker of the bear, Valmúa cocked her red head and kept her ears curiously pinned on the suncat. He was a pandora's box of mystery, and she needed to know more. Never had she encountered someone she struggled so much to read — even her dark brother had his tells, but Kuhn was telling nothing with the great sweeps of his tail, nor with his softness.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#12
He himself didn't even know. Truthfully, he didn't feel bothered before, his earlier reaction was a sick amusement based on those attempting to tell him what to do.  But, now he was bothered.  The striped beast was confused and for all his strength, he now felt like the weak one here. She toyed with him, just as a predator might toy with prey. If it was a woman bothering him he would hardly know, walking alone for so long came with the downside of rarely having to deal with these things.   This, she would be able to read, watching him tense up.

Not knowing what to say about his maleness, he stood silent for a moment, continuing a rhythmic motion of the tail. Did something about her catch his attention, and in what way?  Was it her? Was it predatory drive? She was in his head more than he would show...

Deciding that the best course of action would be not answering the questions, he took a step lateral to her, maintaining his crouched posture.  "Why do you call me Lord?" 
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#13
Misc Skill
 Inwardly, she was delighted by the tension of his body. For once, it was he who felt the presence of the unknown. Though a healthy amount of reservation and fear kept the fire woman present, she could see that she had hooked him. Valmúa continued her apparent curiosity, reaching out a paw toward him and frowning, like she was wounded when he did not reveal his full truth. She wanted to keep poking, to keep pressuring until she got something sweet and juicy from him, but he avoided her with a stealth manuever.
 Answering questions with a question. How coy.
 As he took a step, she rolled partially onto her side like a house cat and pushed her way toward him with her feet. They were quite close now. “You are a Lord because of your calm decisions and your ownership of all of this. It is your domain, and none dare take it from you. You are a Lord — the lone ruler of these woods.”
 She grinned, which looked quite funny with her on her side the way she was. “Which must make me your guest of honour, yes?”

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#14
The absolute confidence of this woman was actually starting to scare him. He was a predator of opportunity, and anything that would approach him like this had to be a force to be reckoned with. She was so close now... he momentarily had, his nose scrunched and his hackles raised. The fact that she presented herself in a vulnerable position oh her side, made him once again soften his expression and relax his hind legs. Though he didn't exactly like the title, he had to admit, he liked her reasoning for calling him lord, evidenced by a deadly yet coy smile. Once again, his heart began beating faster, and that feeling of maleness returned. 

As she spoke so closely, he could feel her breath from under his chin. Finding the courage to take action, the striped beast moved himself closer as well, placing a large paw on her side, resting his chest on the floor.  His paws hinted at the presence of claws, as they peeked out making contact with her hide. The two where practically nose to nose at this point, whiskers entangled. "Then, I shouldn't deny my hospitality" he growled softly, sending his own breath to her. Not knowing what he meant by this yet, he stayed the course.
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#15
Misc Skill
 Valmua had always done this. From the time she was a youngster, she had always pushed the boundaries to see what would happen. She wanted to know the limits of reality, she wanted to know where she stood in this insane world. The fire sister was fiery not because of her colour, nor her blunt aggression. She was af eldi because she broke the rules to see where the real rules were. She could feel how close she was to death. She could inhale the scent of her demise. She revelled in it.
 She could feel the warmth of the body of one that could have killed her many times, but had always chosen not to. The very colour of him was warmth, and she found the light from it delectable.
 Lord Kuhn did not question her explanation, but rather, he placed his paw on her. They were so close, she could not make out the details of his expression. She could feel the strength behind that huge paw. She felt each toe, and felt the semblance of a claw protruding from each. She had seen what he could do. Her body felt tiny under the weight. It was ferocious and pitiful and dangerous. Fear gripped her, and once more the fire woman found a hidden flame stoked within her soul. This need for danger — how did he know?
 Hospitality. Will he kill me now? What would it feel like? Her mind spun.
 “I am a lady — I demand respect.” She said it in a tender voice that did not demand respect. It might even have sounded like a plea. Her breath was quick, for the fear for her own life was very real. It was exhilarating, should she live. “I demand hospitality.” She lifted her lips to show her teeth in a faux display of danger, just as he pressed the weight of his paw to her.
 She did not know what to do. She liked that.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#16
This was definitely a first for the striped beast.  It was rare that he would even speak to his lupine neighbors, let alone being this close.  He was as clueless as she was here.  Instinctually, he felt the urge to clamp down on her, after-all he held this relatively small creature under his paw. But, at the same time, he felt a confliction... she was his guest after all.  He didn't back off, he listened to her plea of being a lady staying inches from her face.  Kuhn Chuckled showing his fangs while raising his rear from the ground.  His eye contact and his paw remained just as they where, as he swished his tail behind him playfully. He could smell her fear now.

He could see through her display as she showed him her faux aggression. Kuhn responded by arching his head back, then releasing an aggressive roar, opening his jaws to their full extent. A moment later he cut it short by snapping his jaws together mere inches from her cheek.  He let the remnants of the roar fade to a low growl before softening his expression, tracing the back of her ear with his tongue.  After all, he could treat her like a lady.
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#17
Misc Skill
 She felt him shift, hazarding a glance toward him, hearing his light laughter.
 He responded to her show of teeth with a terrible roar. It echoed in her ears. She shut her eyes to bear it, and tears welled at the edges. The power of that roar strangled her confidence. The sound thrashed the notion that she had any power over anything in this space, despite her knowing that she had rattled his psyche before. Her body curled beneath the weight of his paw, rounding into a fearful mass.
 She should have treated this as a signal that she should never again test the boundaries. She might have thought she had gone too far asking about the woman that ailed him. Yet, it merely made her hunger for more from him. What secrets did he hold? What would break him? What did he fear? She wanted to know all of it.
 Her body shaking, Valmúa felt the very rough touch of his tongue against the back of her ear. It felt good. And terrifying. What was this?
 “It is not me you seek,” she said bluntly, though she did not know who it was he sought or if it was true. Were suncats as wolves? Did they simply seek whatever was around if deprived?
 I am deprived. Shit.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#18
Perhaps he had gone a bit far, putting on a show like that. The woman's fear was excessive, and more real than before. However she did seem to egg him on, begging for that sort of attention. It was a sort of feedback loop for the cat, having to curb his instincts for the shaking creature under his paw. He loosened his grip.

Her fearful tremors transfered down the tiger's whiskers as he groomed at the base of her ear. That shaking felt in his whiskers was almost the familiar feeling of the last moments of a hunt, before he would clamp himself to the base of the skull.

How odd it was that just a moment ago he felt like the cornered prey. Continuing to groom near the nape of her neck, he thought how strange it was that she would come out of her way to meet him in this fashion. After all, her options for attention weren't limited, she was an apparent leader of a pack and could likely intermingle with who she wished. Why him?

Her blunt statement caught him off guard again; once again tilting his world that he had thought to be under control evidenced by a disruption in his breath. Really it was just nice for the solitary cat to show some affection for a change. How could she know what he wanted? He didn't know what he wanted! He almost let a feint growl roll from his chest but stopped himself, it was probably what she wanted him to do. In true feline nature he paused, decided to do the opposite and continued grooming the woman.
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#19
Misc Skill
 She waited for him to tighten his strange hold on her again, but he didn't. Oddly and without explanation, he moved to do the opposite after a moment's pause.
 Valmúa was, for some, a master manipulator. She had the ability to tell a lie and believe it until it became reality. She could tell what people were going to do before they did it, and had become practiced at planting the seeds of ideas so that they might flower into her desired outcomes. This didn't always work to her benefit, but it was the way she had attempted to control her reality since childhood.
 Kuhn, somehow, represented her failure to do so. He was an agent of chaos, doing as he pleased, just as she herself had described to Reiko. As she waited for him to finally give up on his game and force his teeth into her neck, she found herself relenting to his will.
 His tongue was massive, combing the area behind her ear in surprisingly delicate fashion. At some point, a slow and tension-releasing sigh flowed from her. The stress, either from fear or something else, melted into relaxation. She leaned into this bizarre touch, sickened by the sweetness of his breath and no longer able to form words. Had this been the hospitality he had suggested? She groaned in pleasure. She had lost their strange battle of wills.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#20
Running his tongue through her scruff, the cat got to take her in, her taste was foreign to him, yet a bit intoxicating.  Feeling his quarry relax, made him do the same, slowing his mind to a trance like state.  He could feel her defined musculature drop its tension, submitting to a more gentle side of the cat.  

Kuhn half pulled her closer and half scooted his chest onto her, holding her lower back under his armpit. Letting loose from his chest was a deep and warm rumble, which is not heard by the woman would be felt in its baritone vibration. He closed his eyes, pressing his wet nose into her now damp scruff behind her ear.  Burred in her fur, he breathed her in before changing his target to the side of her neck.  He ran his large tongue across the delicate section of neck that housed her jugular, feeling it beat just below the surface.
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#21
Misc Skill
 Wolves groomed one another often enough. This did not feel like that. This felt luxuriously dangerous, a taboo at the edge of a sharp blade. There was something deep and tender about it that she had never expected from him. Though the poppy girl had known from the beginning that he was not the monster the rest of them thought he was, this was another beast entirely.
 When he pulled her to him, she felt how light she was in comparison. He could move her around like a toy, and perhaps that was exactly what he was doing. Toying with her mind. Invading her thoughts. A wave of confusion vibrated through her as she felt something guttural in her bones. She did not know how to fully experience such affection — she had always assumed other motives and had never fully trusted anyone in such a way. Even then, Valmúa could feel the thin veil that separated her world of decadence from death; he knew it well, too.
 The scent of him was strange and now coated her fur. Despite his clean coat, he carried a musk that blasted alarm bells in an old part of her mind. They had always been designed to be enemies. Valmúa had never been timid in her entire life. Until that long, intense moment.
 Niflheim getur tekið mig,” she purred, lost in some sea that most never dared sail.


Niflheim: The Norse world of darkness, or land of the dead.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#22
She may have assumed he had motivations for what he was doing. Earnestly, he did not.  For once he wasn't bothered by his own thoughts aimlessly wandering the empty tundra day after day. He was in a state of serenity flowing from one action to another. What he found was simple, it was similar to the bliss of a feast after a hunt.  Unlike the hunt, this was gentle and seemed to nourish both involved.  He could tell that she was enjoying his affection, both gentle and aggressive.   

Obviously, she had giving him a degree of trust unbefitting that of a wild suncat, she practically threw herself into his jaws. Why did he deserve such trust? In a sort of wave, the woman's well muscled body subtly contracted and relaxed under his weight, purring something the beast did not understand. It was obvious she was enjoying herself.   He took a moments rest from his grooming to eye her from head to tail, running the bridge of his nose up her back.  Returning his head to the back of her neck, he let out a soft breath before seizing the back of her scruff in his jaws. He gently applied pressure while momentary emitting a low growl, after that long moment he let go.  Shifting his paws to either side of the woman, he raised himself to his feet. Standing over her on all fours, he held a gaze. His grey eyes betrayed little as his tail rhythmically flowed from side to side behind him.
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#23
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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#24
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#25
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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
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