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!

Yo I don't wanna fight Cerberus

The clouds had come together to hide the sun, casting a certain darkness over the tundra. The winds howled; an eerie sound with no source. All the telltale signs of a raging thunderstorm, which wasn’t totally unnatural for this frozen desert. 

There, too, was a fog; thick and dense, making it almost impossible to see anything at all from a distance, despite the winds and all of it’s howling, as if there was a celebration to be had. A snarl of thunder and a crack of lightning, and the smell of marshmallows roasting over a campfire. And then, finally, the clouds parted to expose the sun, as the rays of the sun followed the same path of lightning just moments before, exposing the canine, buried within… a pile of leaves. 

[Image: 268687e6b23c7a4965f116ca4fc5237b3b066a51.gifv]

A pile of leaves in the middle of the frozen desert… and there, in the middle of it all, lay Chantico - asleep, on her back, covered in leaves almost from head to toe, leaving only her face and the tips of her paws truly exposed. The tip of her tail flickered and one of her paws twitched. Her mouth was open, and her spotted tongue hanging out the side. 

And then she began to softly bark in her sleep.

[Image: 71abf24230030c6c16ef6534d5c13fbe.png]
(Now let's pretend these balls are leaves)

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Ragnar had been 100% certain that he had been seeing things and with this understanding that what he saw could not be possible, he moved in closer to figure out what it really was. Obviously, a large pile of brown, orange and red leaves of autumn could not be laying in the middle of a northern wasteland.

When he came nearer, his eyes only allowed him to believe more and more this to be true- leaves, out in the tundra, without a single source of tree around. “How in the fuck...?!” His words trailed off, completely confused as he came. He was hesitant, thinking this was some kind of trick. Thinking something might jump out at him. And then, soft barking, a twitch of limbs... “Who the fuck!?”

Mouth dropped. One ear back. Head tilt. Completely and utterly lost.
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Chantico was sleeping soundlessly in the tundra - a place where she had obviously not fallen asleep in - and dreaming of all good things, when the crunching of snow caught her attention, followed by his scent. One of her back legs kicked as Chantico groaned, rolling over and curling into a ball for a moment, as if making an attempt to go back to sleep; it did not even register to her that the sounds of crunching snow and the new scent meant that someone had approached the mysterious pile of leaves and the goddess hiding among them.

And then there was a voice; a voice laced with confusion as it’s main ingredient. Questions that might have been directed at her, who knows, but the lass was a curious goddess and therefore, with a very dramatic sigh, Chantico would slowly lift her head up from her hind quarters to glance at this adorably confused gentlemen.

What was it about men that made them so adorable when they were confused?

Chantico squinted her eyes as she glanced over at him, not quite liking the brightness of the snow and the sun; it acted like a mirror and made everything so bright. Chantico studied him for a moment; the pale complexion of his coat; the lightness of his eyes and condition of his coat. Long and dense, whereas hers was thick and soft. He almost looked like he was born out here, whereas Chantico was as red as the leaves that surrounded her.

His mouth was wide open. Did he drop that? Should… she pick it up and give it back to him? Copying his antics, Chantico folded one ear back and tilted her own head as she debated how one might take to her shutting their own mouth. She debated against it, though she was confused because he was confused. Why was he confused? Neverminded that she was in a pile of cozy leaves in the middle of the northern desert without a single tree in sight.

“Are you well, friend?”

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And there was Ragnar, to be pleased with the sight of another largely built Amazonian woman. He was blessed by by Gods to hold one within his ranks now, a woman of many lifetimes. Ragnar wondered if this one came from another lifetime to be presented by him in the same manner which @Freya had. What better home for the Amazon then that northern mountain by the sea of which Viking claimed!?

Ragnar, continuously drawn in like a moth to flame for his lustrous curiosity. And this red woman here was much flame indeed.

Finally, roused after her groaning of defiance at being awoken, did the young woman lift her head from her bed to narrow a waking eye at him. She mimicked, being confused by his own confusion. “Maybe physically...” He murmurs, head still tilted and ear back as he takes one more step forward to her. “But my mind seems to be playing tricks on me this day. Your well aware your in the middle of the Tundra?” He speaks and reaches out a long blonde limb to sweep at the leaves of her bedding. Maybe she would catch his meaning then and be just as puzzled as he.
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Another lifetime; another world; another reality. Chantico was more than just a canine, but she learned early on not to mention things such as gods and an afterlife to the simple folk. In the reality that she’d come from, she’d been a goddess. They gave her offerings to please her, and worshiped the ground she walked on.

And now, she was in the middle of the tundra, without a tree in sight, in a pile of leaves with a poor, simple bloke who was so confused that Chantico was sure that his mind was broken. The exact reasons why one didn’t go around talking about gods and the afterlife, and being reborn.

The goddess stood to stretch, though making no attempt to shake out her coat, but rather, she stood to glance at her sides, as though viewing her coat for the first time. A gleeful sigh and a shake of her head as Chantico slowly checked herself out. Of course they’d given her a red coat, surrounded by red and yellow leaves. Such joksters.

It was the stranger’s interesting way of speech that caught her attention. Slowly, her eyes shifted from the reds of her coat to the blondes of his, and her arches rose. She blinked a few times, glancing at him and then glancing all around.

“Ah! So we are. How about that.”

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Yet oh, how wrong she were, to think that he could not understand such things- or, maybe she were right, for Ragnar believed in great and many things though would never admit to understanding the magic and might of what all a God was capable of. Even living now with those once Gods themselves, Freya and Ghidorah, Ragnar still found himself so curious and wondering. Their conversations lead to many questions and left Ragnar only to want and know more, more, more...

Inspecting her own self and then inspecting him, a happy sing-song voice is playful and uncaring of her sudden pull from one world to the next or, in some cases, one time-line to the next.

“So you are unshaken by your Awakening then? That is a relief...” A playful sigh and his ears perked then both upright and he paws at the leaves again. “Though I'd say this is the first time I've encountered someone bring a part of another time with them...” He was learning something new every day and he figured yet still, the possibilities were endless. Maybe his children were not all that lost to him after all...
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Chantico’s attention is drawn to the boy as he plays with the leaves that seemed to have appeared with her. She, too, studied them for a time before suddenly grinning and aggressively pawing at them in an attempt to “splash” him with the leaves as she howled with laughter as she ran around him in a full circle, nipping at his tail as she did.

When she came to a stop, back in the pile of leaves, she’d grin towards him. “Awakening? Is that what you morals are calling it now? It’s okay to call it a rebirth, you know. ” Chantico giggled with the shake of her head. “Perhaps the first time, but after you’ve been reborn a thousand times..” Chantico’s voice trailed off as she merely shrugged her shoulders.

“I must have pissed someone off to have been reborn in this form, in this place, with these leaves.” Chantico commented with the shrug of her shoulders as she sat back down and smiled up at him. Not even seeming to care who it might be, or why. “So, who are you, then? ”

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She was such a nonchalant wolf, seemingly uncaring and unphased in what had happened to her. Ghidorah had been most unpleased with his coming here, having been cast from the heavens as punishment. Maybe being born again into another life was as natural to this wolf here as it was to @Freya. Freya too seemed quite alright with her new place in the realm as though it were but another chapter to her vast novel. Maybe, even, this woman before her was one of the 'soul-bound' Freya had told him about. Ragnar would need to mention it...

For now, however, he was caught off guard by a sudden wave of leaves, kicked up and sprayed all around him. Her playfulness was contagious, causing Ragnar to open his jaws, moving his head back and forth to mouth and bite at the falling leaves. He wore them now in his thick scruff, like a druid as he bounded around after the large red woman who snipped at his tail.

When she stops back in her pile of leaves, he snorts, using his front paws to stomp the ground playfully, his tail high in mock dominance. “Well I wasn't reborn.” Ragnar retorts.“ My family nor I. We just all slept after a long days travel and just, well, awoke here.” Same age, same body, same memories.

“I don't see anything wrong with your form.” He huffs, as though offended that she might be making fun of a wolf's look but in a manner he was commented on her own personal looks, too. Of course, if she were once a Goddess, being now a mortal in whatever body was likely off-putting. This one here handled it well.

A thousand times... He had heard her say that. Ragnar couldn't imagine living through time for so long. Couldn't fathom it. “My name is Ragnar Stormborn.” He addressed, “And you?” Then, another quick question. “You wouldn't happen to know Freya, would you?” Of course many who were norse both believed and worshipped the goddess. Not that they actually knew her, personally.
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The man before her did not see anything wrong with her form, likely because he was accustomed to the god-given form he’d been given. Chantico, however, had not been; though she’d asked for this, that was true - just not this form.

“Is that a compliment, Ragnar Stormborn?” Chantico giggled softly, flickering her tail and tilting her head. “Were you born inside a storm, then?” Chantico huffed, trying to imagine those odds, though she would smirk and shake her head.

“I am Chantico; I do not recall a Freya, at least, not personally. You are a mortal that knows of other deities, then, in this realm?” Surely not, surely… she was not understanding this correctly.

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“Well I suppose it is.” He said with a one-sided smile as she questioned if he had complimented her. Ragnar was not the type to shy away from confrontation, especially when it came to addressing a woman's attributes, physical or otherwise. Ragnar had himself a type, that was for certain. Thick woman and redheads. She was both.

To her huff, followed by a smirk and shake of her head, Ragnar shook his head the same and rolled his pale icy eyes with it. No. He said flatly. “During a storm.” He laid out the correction. “In my family on my mother's side, it was believed that being born during a storm was a sign of good luck.” He leaked a little bit of the back-story. Very few too knew that Stormborn had actually been his middle name shared with his twin sister, Freyja.

“Chantico...” He pondered over her name. “I've not heard of a God Chantico before.” He teased. Of course, Ragnar felt that many gods held many names, each given from their followers. Their true names were a mystery, lest spoken from their own mouth.

“I am.” Ragnar admits as he plops his golden ass on the ground. “I've heard and learned of many gods but it was not until I came to this land have I've seen them- even lived among them in my home. This is quite the magical place, Chantico.” Of course, she would already know that.
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It was an interesting thing, wasn’t it, for a mortal to know and accept the existence of a greater power? It was, for a time, until they started acting crazy about it. Killings and death, labeled as sacrifices in the name of a god, was madly insulting to Chantico. Small things like fish and prey animals, sure, but when they grew greater and greater in scale? Well, Chantico couldn’t stand for it.

Ragnar had confirmed the compliment, though she wasn’t sure if it was because he found her actually attractive or if he just wanted to flatter her since she had once been a goddess, but alas, she would take it all the same - until his tone grew flat and he made a correction. In a storm and during a storm were very much the same things, but alas, Chantico would smile and dip her head politely.

“That is a very interesting piece of history that you have shared with me.” Chantico murmured, nodding her head again, though merely shrugging as he, of course, did not know of her. No, she supposed, not many did. “Ah, very good; just the way I like it.” Chantico cooed, winking at him with the lick of her lips.

He called his place magical, and she supposed - even to a small degree - that she could agree with him. “Now if only the creatures, too, were magical then I wouldn’t have needed to strip myself of any godly relation or power.” She’d commented in a tone that was just as flat as his had been, with a growl of fire.

Though honestly, that was just half of it - but it had been the icing on the sake, as they like to say.

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A small genuine smile was offered to the large redhead as she had spoken after his mention of his family. How vast the name of 'Archer' went and yet in the vast scene of things probably did not go far enough. To some, an Archer was nothing while others a great pride and admiration. Ragnar knew such things would mean little to a Goddess, but Ragnar hoped to be known, even if only by those in this land. Different then Chantico.

“A deity which doesn't want to be known and so, worshipped? That's different...” He spoke with question and a tilting of his head. Most gods tend to lavish being known and all which came with it- the adornment and admiration, the praise of their name, the gifts, the sacrifices.

“Hrmmm...” He then pondered, thinking over her last bit. To come here, to live among the mortals, she needed to be mortal herself in turn. “I suppose when the gods created us, they didn't think to give us any.” He said in response to their lack of magic and rose one scarred brow at her. Sounded like a question for the Gods to answer and she was the one that had been one. “Why did you decide to become mortal?”
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Had the Stormborn voiced these, the goddess would have agreed that Archer did not sound nearly as impressive nor as memorable as Stormborn. And if Ragnar had wanted folks to know him - a name change was a wise decision.

It wasn’t uncommon for mortals to want folks to remember them. Humans, too, were like this; wanting to be remembered for something, and given that the common denominator was that they were all mortal - Chantico supposed she could not fault them.

She, too, could agree, that most gods enjoyed being fucking entitled in the way that worship was concerned with, but there were duties and prayers to be answered, and - well, it was mandune, and not very fulfilling.

“Oh no, Ragnar, they definitely did think about it, I assure you.” Chantico smirked, which was followed by a smile as he asked his question: why did you decide to become mortal? - meaning, too, that now, she only had one life.

One life.

She pondered for a moment what she’d want to do with it.

“Ooh, Ragnar, that’s a bit personal. How about we discuss such things over dinner, hmm? ”

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Ragnar could think of many different reasons why the gods would find it fitting not to grant mortals with powers. Whether it be even just one thing- like controlling the waters, making plants grow or even being able to fly. Good always came with the bad and Ragnar figured things could quickly get out of paw. If wolves had a great advantage over everyone else, there would not be balance in the world. Would they even be considered mortal then, or gods themselves?

Ragnar nods, thinking these things silently and when Chantico does not wish to answer him, he shrugs. “I can make that happen.” But whether she still wished to tell him or not after a hunt would still be very much up to her. He wouldn't prod.

“Where do you plan to go from here, then? Do you know this land at all?” He didn't know if she had seen this place, within the heavens or wherever she was from. Maybe this was all brand new to her as it had been to the mortals, too. “There is always room in my home, if you'd like?” He offered with sincerity.
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Chantico smiled softly with a chuckle and the sway of her tail, slightly amused by him. It did not surprise her to learn that, of course, he would make that happen. Her eyes brightened with joy and Chantico licked over her lips, daring a step closer to him.

“You would think that someone like me would have a grand plan, but I do not.” Chantico would chuckle with the shrug of her shoulders. “I do not know this land, but I would love to see what the home of a Stormborn is like.”

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