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!

AW
withered regions

#1
AW
03-11-2021, 02:14 PM
For once, the tundra was a still place. Though barren, locked in the depths of a winter yet to relent for it, it was not an entirely lifeless place. Solpallur was familiar with the climate; he had grown up in a place like it, though the place where he had came from had been choked with mountains and tundra valleys where the temperature was prone to shifting rapidly in just a short span. He knew bitter cold just as well as he knew uncomfortable warmth.

These were things he did not expect to find here, however. Instead he had a suspicion that the climate here would be more to his liking, that there would be untold riches to speak to him through the stars and the earth alike. The flatland expanse spoke volumes of what there was yet to find—distant mountains arose, rich and dark on the horizon until the clouds and mist covered them. The focal point that he and Stjornuati had been heading towards, the way the ravens flew and chattered at them.

Even now, they followed the suneater as he made his way across the partially uneven terrain. Hopping along, flapping about, chittering and chattering in their tongue as they pulled and plucked at growth just beneath a thin coating of snow. If not for their company, he would have been entirely alone on the day, and so he spoke to them in his archaic tongue: “Yes, yes little birds. The flowers will grow again. There is life beneath the cold.”
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common tongue · native tongue
#2
03-11-2021, 09:08 PM
To her surprise she smelled something... someone familiar. The scent made her nose curl and fur rise along her spine just thinking of who it belonged to. Narrowed eyes searched the horizon for a sign of where he was, where he could leap out from this time -- but this time she was prepared for it. Guarded, coiled.

He couldn't be seen, but someone else was spotted along with a murder of crows.. or ravens, whatever they were, along with him. The scent similarity was brushed off as just him bathing in the trail long enough he had somehow adopted it.

“Hey!” She barked for his attention, smoothly trotting over to his side but leaving just enough between them should he too be a nipper or something else unpleasant. Putting on a pleasant smile and a confident air, she spoke proudly while tossing her head back pretentiously. “This scent, this guy? Real piece of work, I'd find someone else to seek out.” She honestly thought she was doing him a favour...

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#3
03-15-2021, 02:55 AM
 Sucked from existence.
 Chewed up by the Garmr hounds, lolled around and drained of love and hardship and pain. Valmúa was swallowed into an oblivion. Starlight took her. Whatever was before was for the most part, gone. She knew only that she had been travelling with @Stjörnuáti and Solpallur. It was them whom she had been seeking, but now the logic ran free and without borders.
 Somehow in her travels through space, she was swallowed by the sun and then the moon, turned over and over, perhaps the Gods hoping that her spirit would transform in transit.
 This was not the case.
 A blinding and dizzying lack of gravity was all she could feel when finally, she soared down in the air and fell cleanly and abruptly exactly upon her dark brother. Hvað í fokkanum?! The stench of her brother was all that seemed familiar as she rolled angrily from him, righting herself just in time to see the look on a red woman's face.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#4
03-16-2021, 02:17 PM
His solitude was broken after a while; he had become acutely aware that he was no longer alone when a jolt of color burst into a relatively bleak landscape.  Feminine, no doubt about it.  It wasn’t his favored Engi making her way towards him.  It wasn’t anyone that he knew, though she drew close enough to warrant him halting; the shifting winds told him much of what he needed to know.

Stjornuati.  She smelled of him, but not in any sort of context that answered questions.  He only understood snippets of what she said, enough to glean that something had transpired between them… and unsurprisingly negative.  His emerald gaze narrowed on her, a rumble deep in his chest—what was she to him?  More importantly, what inclination did she think she had to approach him in the first place, telling him what to do?

He had been about to open his mouth and utter some spiteful reply when the wind was forced out of him.  He didn’t have time to dodge it, didn’t even have time to process anything more than the swearing and the familiarity in a voice that rang more sharply in his ears than the snide remarks of the stranger.

“Valmua, þú sveifla!” he roared, rising to buck her off with a snarl that could have sundered a lesser god from the sky.  The stranger mattered not in the a moment—Solpallur was convinced that his spitfire sibling had somehow gotten the drop on him and launched a sneak attack.  He whirled on her in an instant, mouth agape and seeking to pinch at her skin through her winter coat.
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common tongue · native tongue
#5
03-16-2021, 04:23 PM (This post was last modified: 03-23-2021, 12:18 AM by Hothieriel. Edited 1 time in total.)
There was something about this guy that started to stink as well. His silence, the way he glared at her - she was beginning to feel suspicious about this scent and the two men. Was this one of the partners the pale one had with him in the caves? Her own eyes narrowed, almost certain this encounter would end the same way the other one did...

Then, suddenly surprised by a body falling from the sky, Thalia took a few quick steps back to avoid the collision and flash of teeth. What the absolute FUCK, she thought to herself. This wasn't the first wolf she saw fall from the friggen sky, and so how was that even possible think of?! Was this a natural occurrence here?! Pale eyes tossed to the blue beyond, half expecting to see more individuals just soaring across the skies... no one, it was as if it never happened!

The dark one spoke, spitting ire with teeth. Granted the woman fell directly on top of him and Thalia would be equally annoyed - but this woman just fell from the fucking sky!!! As if she had any control of where she landed! Instead of getting herself involved in this one, Thalia just sat on the sidelines, utterly confused.

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#6
03-17-2021, 12:32 AM
 The northern woman didn't have time to react. Everything started to hurt, and she wondered how she wasn't dead from impact. It felt like she had only fallen a short distance, but it didn't matter. Solpallur, as if on cue, was all bucking and teeth latched onto her skin. Valmúa reacted in turn, tail and backside puffed up as she sought to throw the side of her body against him in a very nasty shove.
 This was exactly how they had interacted as children.
 She even let loose her own, countering snarl. The sound was much sharper and higher in pitch, lacking the depth of her idiot brother. She wanted to have some damn words with him. She did not careen through fucking space-time to have him throw this kind of hissy fit.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#7
03-19-2021, 04:38 AM
Valmúa! His voice boomed, right behind the lítill dreki he had previously encountered and riled up. The grin on his face was rare and wide, flashing rows of teeth that were used as threat more than anything. His amusement came from having both watched Valmua plummet from the sky and the idea of startling the red-furred kona again. Moving forward, Stjornuati approached her, grin widening if anything, forcing himself to not look at her, not acknowledge her and instead throw himself into the fray, pinching not Valmua this time but his brother. 

Hún flaug, Solpallur! Alla leið frá himni til fallega höfuðsins þíns. Antagonistic but truthful, all the same. The gilded stareater did wonder at how Valmua had gotten herself in such a predicament, but he doubted that she would tell him, if only so she knew something and he did not. A subtle twist of his ear flickered back towards the lítill dreki before focusing on his siblings.
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“Common tongue” | “native tongue (icelandic/old norse) in [q=#9e5d53]”
#8
03-25-2021, 08:39 AM
Things evolved quickly, too much and too fast for his liking.

He heard Stjornuati behind him calling out; he lost sight of the unfamiliar spitfire in their midst and Valmua was throwing a fit far too close to him. His lips pulled back to bear his worn, yellowing teeth and their jagged edges—his mouth ever as ugly as before—as he thought to bear down on his sister for her sneaky game. He’d teach her as he had taught her time and time again, but something in Stjornuati’s words gave him pause.

Was his brother even mocking him now? Was he in on it?

Hestaskítur! The word roared out of him, his gaze not even leaving Valmua for a moment. Þessi pissi maur gerir þetta alltaf! It was her game, her little ploy. Wait for him to be unaware and focused on something else and then strike like some rat-faced snake in the grass.
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common tongue · native tongue
#9
03-25-2021, 04:02 PM
Quickly Thalia felt like she was privy to a peek behind some curtains, to watch some drama unfold of which she was for once, not directly involved with. If she felt comfortable in her current 'invisible state' as the sky wolf and the dark one seemed far more interested in one another, perhaps she would have sat down comfortably and watched as long as they were entertaining... however she opted to stand, just in case her invisibility cloak would fall off and attention was ever brought back to her.

Which seemed to be the best idea she had ever had. A call boomed from behind her, running up her spine and immediately ringing every alert bell in her brain. Fur ran up her spine in a cloud of auburn fluff, limbs and tail rigid as she whipped around to confirm her suspicions of who that voice belonged to. She didn't need to have heard him before to recognize that tone.

He approached but didn't look right at her, and yet, she could swear that grin of his was because of her. Standing her ground, she refused to give him space and simply stared daggers at the man, just daring him to start shit again - all the while he and the others were just chatting among themselves. A language she had no clue what it was, and what they were saying.

Narrowed eyes went from each of them and landed mostly on the pale one among them, suspicious of what they were saying... of the girl that fell from the sky and how they were all related somehow since there seemed to be a strange familiarity between them - one she simply could not put a paw on. And though she wanted to slink away before attention was placed on her again, no longer interested in the drama she was once engrossed in - Thalia simply stepped back to make some space and hopefully get forgotten, not wanting to turn her back on any of them to make a hasty departure.

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#10
03-27-2021, 07:52 AM
 As the brother and sister pulled at one another and tussled, it was none but Stjörnuáti who rescued her out of the blue. He called her name like a great song from above and she could not help but grin toothily as she saw him. The red woman in the back was a dot on her peripheral, so distracted was the fire sister with Solpallur's harsh and critical gaze. So often had their interactions gone this way. Sol and Stjor together were as one, and yet it was she who challenged their dynamic.
 Valmúa licked her teeth, her back still arched and fluffed with an angry electricity.
 She sneered at Solpallur openly as their pallid brother spoke, snaking her way past him to flick her tail in his face and greet Stjörnuáti with a cat-like rub. Peering past him, the red woman did not escape her. “I see you found a ljúffengur replacement for me,” she answered, staring at the girl, bemused. She ignored the prior aggression. This was all Solpallur knew how to do.

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#11
04-01-2021, 04:12 AM (This post was last modified: 04-01-2021, 04:13 AM by Stjörnuáti. Edited 1 time in total.)
All during their antics, Stjörnuáti kept an ear turned to the little dragon, even as he laughed at Solpallur's irritated outburst. Það er satt. Ég sá það með eigin augum. Að auki er enginn staður fyrir hana að hoppa svona á þig. Angry as Solpallur might be, Stjörnuáti would not lie to the wolf he was soul-bound with, and if the darker male took the time to listen properly, he would hear the truth in the blonde wolf's words.

Stjörnuáti did not remain there to convince him, however, nipping Valmúa's haunch as she slid against him. Pirrandi eins og alltaf, sé ég. Came the rumbled greeting that followed the light bite of his teeth. Hún er mín. Vertu fjarri henni. Hún er skemmtileg að berjast. Litli drekinn reiðist svo auðveldlega. To prove his point, Stjörnuáti pulled himself from his sister's side and instead padded towards the woman of red, grinning widely.

Er það ekki rétt, litli drekinn?
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“Common tongue” | “native tongue (icelandic/old norse) in [q=#9e5d53]”
#12
04-01-2021, 02:36 PM
An angry huff left him; he knew Stjornuati wouldn’t lie to him but also knew that his brother was not beyond playing a joke either. There may not have been anything around him that would have given Valmua a moment’s chance to jump on him, but she had pounced him all the same.

And Valmua, though she may have been smaller in comparison, was also not the sort of wolf to trifle with. She was cut very much from the same stone and soil as they were, right down to the sharpness of her teeth. It was her conniving slink to their brother where his gaze lingered, until he recalled the stranger in their midst.

The other spitfire, Stjornuati’s little dragon, apparently.

For a moment, the suneater considered charging the lot of them. His teeth were still bared, sides heaving in a mix of adrenaline and fury that slowly began to still. No, it wouldn’t have been worth it. He could have barreled right through them, but the risk did not outweigh the reward or satisfaction of muscling them out of his way.

Hún er afleysingamaður þinn, he grit out with a growl. It was meant to be hurled like a barb to Valmua. Hún er öll rauð eins og þú, flottari líka… he went on, pausing for a moment. What was it she had said, just moments before he had been assaulted on high?

Solpallur sneered: Aðeins litla drekanum líkar ekki Stjornuati. Bad tongued bróðir, that one.” The common tongue, ever difficult, was intentional. His gaze had rounded on the little dragon, the same vitriolic flame aglow within.
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common tongue · native tongue
#13
04-04-2021, 07:40 PM
^^
She couldn't understand a damn thing any of them were saying; and she kept stepping back, away, making distance just to see when the opportunity to fade away would come - and it never did. The first to turn their attention to her was the female who fell from the sky. Her attention wasn't the more unfavorable Thalia had to admit, she seemed to be less bitey than the men. The way she rubbed herself along the pale man left her wondering briefly if they were lovers, did it matter? Not at all. Not now.

Then that same pale one kept talking in a tongue was not at all familiar with. The way he padded toward her with that stupid fucking grin of his rubbed her the wrong way - sending hackles flying across her spine and ready for round two. With a warning growl, she napped her teeth, hoping he would stop right there and get no closer. They were all together those three, fighting him now would mean the end of her she was certain of it. The best she could do now was keep them at bay and come off as no easy woman to get rid of unless they let her walk away peacefully.

The darker one was the next to speak up, she caught a few words of his. So they did know the common tongue after all. Peeking around this "bróðir" of his, she cast an icy glare to him too. “So what if I did, hm?” Despite her situation, her words were full of ire and pride. She knew she was fucked here, utterly boned if she didn't play her hand right - but she would not come off as fearful. Not here, not ever (except that hellcat, we don't talk about that).
^^
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#14
04-05-2021, 08:46 AM (This post was last modified: 04-05-2021, 08:47 AM by Valmúa.)
 Since they were children, Valmúa had understood two conflicting things:
  1. Women are useless unless strong
  2. Women can be owned
She knew that others had put women, not men, at the helm. She knew that there were packs that would only accept matriarchs as leaders. In her own opinion, the Stormskýli were fucking idiots for assuming male dominance over women. The truth should have been the opposite.
 So, as Solpallur compared she and the unknown woman, the fire sister grew ever angrier. Despite her brief affections, the words of her favourite sibling smacked her in the face. Quickly, Valmúa found her blood beginning to burn. Little Dragon. Stay away.
 Go fuck yourselves, she thought, whilst appeasing her brothers with gentle and annoyed smiles so that they might appreciate her faux-anger. She began then to trot forward toward this red dragon, this replacement for her who was prettier, this woman whom her brothers had decided would be the perfect ammunition to piss off their pesky sister. But Valmúa saw through their bullshit.
 As she moved toward the red stranger, she flashed her teeth menacingly. But the closer she drew, the more her face softened, although she made the occasional snarling noise so that her brothers might be fooled. Then, she spoke loud enough for all to hear, “My brothers seem to think they own you. They don't want me to talk to you,” she tattled, and waited to see what would happen.
 The match was lit. Was it dry straw, or wet? Solpallur's info said dry...

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Icelandic · Inupiaq · Old Norse · Common
#15
04-29-2021, 12:30 AM
^^
There she stood, one versus three. Her skin sprinkled with lightning, vibrating with anticipation for the worse. Furrowed brows and a sharped stare kept on all three of them, just to focus on the female should have been dead upon impact with the ground, even if she landed on the darker male, as she approached. Gritted teeth along with a growl displayed she was not only afraid, but ready for whatever she was about to do... only for the flash of softened features the closer she got to bring fourth just enough curiosity to hear her out.

They thought they owned her, the words made her laugh. Sharpened fangs exposed to the cold air as the musical laughter erupted from her maw in a sudden burst. This had to be a joke, right? The moment her laughter faded just enough to be able to utter a few words, that same icy stare looking beyond the woman and to the males. “I am owned by no one, especially not any male.” Of course she wasn't. A fire couldn't be tamed. They were wild as she was, a blaze, an inferno just waiting to happen in the wrong hands.

And these men were not the hands capable of taming this flickering flame.

A sharpened look tossed from the men back onto the russet woman, almost appreciating her briefly before Thalia nudged her shoulder gently in a thankful gesture before walking off. Tossing her head up and away proudly from the men, strutting off to her own destiny. At least one of the three wasn't completely batshit insane.
^^
exit!

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#16
05-01-2021, 03:10 AM
Writing Stjor out to cut down on threads and get my shit together!

Tch.

Stjornuati, only happy to see Valmúa just moments prior, filled with ire as he listened to what she said, and how the little dragon responded. Only when she was gone did the stareater snake his head close to his fire-furred sister and nip at her harshly in a bid to express his suddenly disgruntled mood. Of course, the little poppy had twisted his words, twisted his meaning, and warned the woman off with her interpretation. The wind stolen from his sails, Stjörnuáti huffed at the pair of them before trotting off to lick the wounds his now-sour mood had given him.

Exit!
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“Common tongue” | “native tongue (icelandic/old norse) in [q=#9e5d53]”
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