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!

P
which i cannot touch because they are too near


Evening Partly Cloudy
#1
P
Formation
05-18-2022, 02:55 AM (This post was last modified: 05-26-2022, 02:57 AM by Olive. Edited 1 time in total.)
For @Riannon, all other tags are for awareness


One day, she had been fine — and another, her world had becoming consumed by nausea and fatigue. She had contributed her overt need for sleep to her recent venture to the north, but now significant time had passed, and it could not longer be used as a viable excuse, not when paired with a myriad of other symptoms. She ached. She was irritable; but beneath this prickly exterior, the new mother bloomed and blushed.

Even before she eked a word of this denouement to @Tiberius, Olive knew there was another conversation that needed to be had — one that, if Olive could have avoided it, she likely would have. She had asked the Gods to enervate her with understanding, and to make known what they kept hidden within their prophet Riannon. Their every supernal hand, pointed consistently towards Tiberius.

In her musing about this topic, Olive found herself preoccupied with the matter of Riannon understanding her perspective (one which Olive barely understood herself with logos, only with pathos), or if she might perhaps view this as a failure, or worse yet, a sloughing of what Frostchant used to be, but Evenrise no longer was. In some small way, all of these things were as true as they were false, and in the end, Olive knew she could not delay her duty to her sky-sister any longer, lest another wave of nausea overtake her. Maybe she might even be able to intercept @benry and pander on to him about the oh-so-exciting future. She deeply desired to celebrate this with her two closest friends,

Why did that feel like such a faraway possibility?

Olive wove her way to Cloudrest and paused at the borders, almost intending to howl. The waifish woman paused, sniffed at the scents to ascertain such biological information of the pack, then realized — this was still her home, was it not, though she had been living betwixt two worlds? Nodding assuredly to herself, Olive cautiously drifted across Evenrise's threshold as she had done many times before, and begun to seek out where she suspected the Sotaherra to be with her clutch of growing pups.

the staff team luvs u
[Image: Sprite-0005.gif]

duskguard  /  healing    /  lineage
#2
06-05-2022, 01:29 AM
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not me realizing i have enough breathing room to finally reply to this just now kshdjd im so sorry lmao


 by the tribe-nest, the humming place with frogsong and their lotuses, beneath the gloaming’s gouache moon and cotton clouds and gold-hot stars, the nightingale relaxes after her previous through the ferns. she had remained patient with the needly nips of her cubs' greeting; but they slumber, now, as her steps meld into the summer waters; as she murmurs her way through pads, through fronds. @Eira had taken to his evening hunt, so in her aloneness, she lets herself rock within the lucid labyrinth of her mind.

 when olive is there, her scent has profoundly changed. not that she bears the spellsinger ill-will for it. there is always the chance that she has undergone more transformation than just in body, though; perhaps she will not take kindly to her own approach, now that she has been away from the hollow that had housed her.

 is she sky-sister still?

 her throat issues an airy beckoning. a low siren’s sigh as she wades to her. like a hundred hesitant lovers, trendils whisper phantom down that fine, fair back and over waxen, narrow hips. the vala remained there, wanting them all, as the waters mouthed at scarred ribs and at the cinching within her belly; cradled her up to her elbows, lingering just as she. her full moon smile is rare — but for her it will always pass over her ruined face.


 "i am glad for your new fortune, my dearheart."
[/narrow]
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 ᴄ ᴏ ᴍ ᴍ ᴏ ɴ  ·  ᴠ ᴀ ʟ ᴇ ʀ ɪ ᴀ ɴ  ·  ᴛ ᴜ ɴ ᴅ ʀ ɪ ᴀ ɴ 
( riannon speaks common with a thick romanian accent )
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