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!

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Like fire around the brim


Morning Sunny/Clear
#1
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Elysium
Hunter
09-12-2022, 06:43 PM
His mother Amaranth was known for her silent way of moving, her mystic way of seemingly materializing out of thin air. It was impossible to sneak up on her, and even more difficult to surprise her; she was an eldritch spirit encased in golden furs, and Alder loved to watch her from afar. He wanted to be like her - calm and collected and stoic. She never seemed to be around when he was, but today he would impress her with the skills he had been practicing.

Crouched low, he knew she was a late riser. With slow, calculated movements he crept forward, red fur shimmering in the sun's early rays; in his way, he was beautiful, though he did not know it given the way his siblings taunted and berated him for his strange coloring.

Silently, he entered the den.

Amaranth had her back turned, facing the wall, breathing softly. She was surrounded by her hoard of trinkets, bones and gemstones and bits of twine draped across numerous stone slabs that just barely served as shelving, but he was careful not to be distracted by their splendor.

A few more steps... then...

Alder pounced, planting his two front paws squarely on her side. “Ha! I got you, mama!” he declared triumphantly, tail wagging. She would be so proud; he would be a great hunter someday.


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#2
Visionary
09-12-2022, 08:09 PM (This post was last modified: 09-12-2022, 08:10 PM by Amaranth. Edited 1 time in total.)
Sleep was never easy. And she felt, more now than she had in some time, that her sanity was beginning to slip again. And as it slipped away, so did sleep. Insomnia would plague her again, over and over. Night after night of empty floating, of amethyst lakes and glittering nightmares. Flashes of red, glitters of gold.

The warmth of the den blanketed her, the shadows breathing a soft melody in her ears. Inhale. Exhale.

Perhaps she could stay here. Lost in the purgatory of her own mind.

It was comfortable here.

But it was without warning that her peace silence was destroyed. A jolt of electricity charged into her side, two paws landing square on her ribs and pressing the air out of her chest. She hadn't been sleeping, but the daze and stupor induced by her listless daydreaming caused her to react without thought. As her heavy lids pulled open, she saw nothing but a blaze of red fur that caused her breath to catch in her throat. She lifted herself abruptly, pressing her weight instinctually back whatever it was that had charged her. Powered by a gripping fear ... anxiety sparking.

Thankfully, her stupor also weakened her movement, otherwise, Alder may have been sent flying to the other side of the den.

She hadn't realized how she must have looked, staggering with hackles raised and her head hanging low. Like some sort of otherwordly gargoyle and far less ethereal than she would often present herself. There was a lick of feral hostility in the air before the daze left her eyes and those amethyst gems focused onto the offender. Alder.

Amaranth swallowed, golden fur settling back into place as she pressed her ears forward. Something heavy settled in her throat, drying it. Something sickening gathered like a ball of acid in her stomach. Was he trying to play? She looked at him, seeing flashes of blood and fang and bone ... and she tried to remember what Valeksa told her.

He is not the same.
They are not the same.

But Amaranth wavered.

"You should be careful how you wake others up," she said effortlessly, her voice airy and yet somehow rough and bordering reprimand. "You never know what their dreams might be showing them." She raised a brow at him suspiciously, trying to see past it all ... but seeing only the poisonous eyes of her father. It brought physical pain to her chest, but she hid it as her dark lips pulled together and her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "What do you need?"

Why was he here? Instead of cowering under Valeska's protective wing?

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#3
Visionary
09-12-2022, 11:36 PM
As quickly as Alder had been to show his childlike enthusiasm at their 'game', his mother's reaction took the wind right out of his sails with a single look. The feral intensity with which she regarded him, panting and utterly unblinking in the grip of something that could only be described as open hostility sent a shock through his system like a cold rush of water. He had startled Valeska awake before, but she had never reacted like... this.

Alder tripped, fumbling his words, taking a few awkward steps back as he struggled to say something. “I - I'm sorry mama, I was just - just playing -” and he hoped, then, that she might soften at last and cover him in loving kisses, reassuring the boy that all was well and she had just been flustered.

However, she remained stoic, maintaining a tense distance between them as she stared into his molten eyes with an expression he could not read.

Was she... disappointed?

A sharp sound left his throat involuntarily, high and strained. It was a whimper.

His siblings always regarded Valeska as the stricter parent, rigid in establishing rules and bedtimes and scheduled meals and 'don't-go-off-too-far-or-you'll-get-eaten-by-an-owl', and Amaranth had always been hailed as the more lax of the pair, easygoing and quick to soothe little hurts with silken words and velvet kisses. Alder, however, never experienced this dynamic. Valeska was kind and warm and soft, but by comparison, Amaranth was... cold.

Just cold, like the harsh winds that blew down from the mountains.

“Dreams... show you things?” he asked, unable to quell his curiosity. Secretly, he hoped she might even be pleased by the question. “Like... mama describes some things as 'visions', things you don't see with your eyes. Are they like that?”

Alder fidgeted, looking at the ground.

“Could you - tell me about them? Mama always says you're closer to the gods, so I was thinking... maybe I could... learn a little?”

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#4
Visionary
09-14-2022, 01:07 AM
The child cowered, apologies falling from his dark, serpentine lips.

Amaranth was as empty as an echoing hallway; arches of stone reaching upward ... unyielding.

Demons would trick. They would steal. They would take the most innocent of faces. And they would sneak their way in ... sneak and slip and slither until they coiled around the very heart of their prey. And then demons would kill. And Amaranth was not ready to yet release the idea that this innocent child was not a demon — the demon, himself.

If only she were as forgiving as Valeska. As kind as Harper.
But her skin crawled. Her stomach bubbled.

And although Alder was but a child ... she feared him. And that fear manifested as cold isolation.

And yet despite that coldness, the flame child did not leave.

“Dreams... show you things?” She eyed him, cautious. “Like... mama describes some things as 'visions', things you don't see with your eyes. Are they like that?” Of course, Valeska would try to set up a commonality between them. "Yes, Valeska — mama — describes them as visions," Amaranth began, shaking the dirt free from her pelt. The heat left her eyes, the hunch in her back straightening as she regained her ghostly, ethereal composure. "But they are much more vivid than that. At least for some."

She lifted herself upward upon four stilts, turning from Alder for a second to search of shambles of collections for something.

And she found it, a red cardinal feather. As crimson as Alder. A reminder of those lost. Those that would haunt her forever.

She carefully picked the feather up, turning back toward Alder with a sinking feeling in her stomach. And she moved back toward him, suddenly unable to complete the task and laying the feather toward his paws.

"Dreams tell us many things, child. They caution us for the future. They remind us of the past. Things to look forward to. Things to be wary of." She searched Alder, waiting for some spark of recognition. Waiting for his dormant brain to recognize her. Waiting for the demon to cackle and groan and rise from within him and snicker at her. Taunt her. "Have you had any dreams like that? Dreams so vivid that they couldn't possibly be dreams? Dreams that felt real? Inescapable?"

Did he suffer like she did? Did he suffer like Cypress did?

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#5
Visionary
09-14-2022, 02:52 AM
As all of these dark, desperate thoughts swirled within Amaranth's mind, gripping her subconscious with skeletal fingers that clawed at the fearful recesses of her psyche; her eyes were wide and haunted and empty, unseeing all but the monstrous apparition that was @Cypress incarnate -

Alder suddenly became distracted by a small, orange butterfly, moving his head absently to follow its wayward path up and away from the pair. He smiled faintly, innocence written all across his vapid, empty expression, and he reached out a paw to poke playfully at the little thing before it swept away altogether.

Pretty.

Oh! She was talking to him!

Taking a seat, he listened intently, ears straight and at attention. Now approaching three and a half months, he was near-half the size of Valeska, all long legs and big paws that hardly knew where to go; it was apparent that Alder was quickly outpacing his siblings, taking far more after his unknown grandfather than expected. Yet there was a kindness in his eyes that his grandsire lacked, sporting a hopeful, earnest gaze where the former held only fire and brimstone - but Amaranth's past clung fiercely to her, and the little pup did not yet know of what his mother saw in him.

Chaos, violence. Delighted despair cloaked in sadistic pleasures. Blood-soaked fangs and a sneer the devil himself might covet.

Of all of the wolves in this brave new land, Alder hadn't the first inkling that he was descended from the foulest.

Amaranth had picked up a feather, shimmering and flame-tipped against the sun's light that crept into her den, and moved as if to present it to him - the pup smiled eagerly, stepping forward to meet her halfway - she was giving him a gift! - but she flagged suddenly, halted, and dropped it close by. He looked at her, confused, but could not find the words to ask why. Perhaps she was tired.

She spoke of visions, of dreams, of deeper meanings and truths not yet seen by the waking world, lurking beneath the surface of that tepid complacency calling itself slumber. Alder frowned. Now that she mentioned it, he had experienced something in the nature she described - many a night he had woken in a cold sweat, shivering, desperate for a familiar touch or a comforting word. Yes; he had experienced visions.

“I... I have,” he started hesitantly, swallowing. “I've dreamed...”

He closed his eyes. Long claws, a hulking silhouette; it loomed ominously overhead, laughing, triumphant before the beast at last swept in for the kill. It was so vivid; his throat felt dry.

“... I've dreamed about a great, big owl, Mother, and it was - it was killing. Taking kids away.”

But, unexpectedly, he met her gaze with clear eyes.

“Mama was there. She and Harper and another one just like Mama, and there was a fourth pup, and he looked like Aunt Harper, but everything was snowy-white and he was dark, and the owl saw him and - and took him away...”

He did not know that he had seen something real, something buried deep in the distant past.

“Mama always told me to watch for owls, and Dimitri is always talking about them, so maybe I'm just - scared. Um. Are you scared of owls too?”

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#6
Visionary
09-14-2022, 10:00 PM
She noticed it all — those beady purple eyes hungry for every movement that the child made. The color of his fur burned with heavy intention in her memories, and it was almost as if she were trying to prove a point to herself. That this boy — this mere child — was far more than that. Far greater (if not far more horrible), beyond even his own realizations.

She watched the butterfly skitter by, wafting along the morning breeze without a care in the world.

She knew what it meant.
  It was why she had chosen the cardinal feather to give to him.

And perhaps it was just the right amount of energy from the spirits to allow Alder to reveal his dreams. To reveal that he, too, suffered. That he, too, carried magic inside of him. “I... I have. I've dreamed...” Part of Amaranth wanted to pity him, for she understood how painful dreams and visions were. She'd suffered with them, alone and in silence and misunderstanding for a very, very long time. It was only Valeska that had spun those visions in a positive direction — only Valeska who had allowed the darkness to pair with light. Yin and Yang. Balance.

But that pity did not make it into her eyes. It did not soften her expression.

She waited for him to explain further.
She wanted to hear it.

But the tale he wove was not one familiar to her own past, though it did tickle the edges of her memory ... it was not her own story, but that of Valeska and Harper. And as Alder cowered and cooed and told the story, Amaranth took a few steps closer to the tiny demon with widened eyes. "...and the owl saw him and - and took him away..." His gaze, previously afraid, suddenly steeled as he looked at her and finished his story. She'd known that Harper and Valeska had lost siblings — was this how their brother had perished? Or was it some sort of symbol? Of further reincarnation?

Amaranth thought hard about it, not realizing that she was still staring directly into Alder's soft golden eyes.

It wasn't until he spoke again, that she finally blinked. "Um," he started, and she blinked again, slower this time. "Are you scared of owls too?" (Yes. She was very scared. But not of owls.) How was he so wise and yet so simple? "Owls are dangerous when you are small," she started, half-answering his question as her purple eyes glittered thoughtfully. "But no owl will be taking you away," she assured him. Was something going to happen to Harper? Was there a chance her brother was out there somewhere? Reincarnated like Cypress into this child? Or was Alder just a seer into the past, with no power to control or view the future?

What was the point of it all? 

She wanted to grill him with questions.

But Valeska would simply murder her if she gave Alder a complex. More-so than the one he already had.

She attempted to change tactics, making it more simple. "Sometimes visions can see the past or the future. But sometimes they simply just represent our present — our happiness, and sometimes, our fears." She blinked toward him, wondering if he was fearful ... or if he understood what he was, and what he had seen. "Your mother, your aunt, and your siblings are all safe here. You know that, don't you?" It was reassuring in a way, as reassuring as it could be in that eerily empty voice.

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#7
Visionary
09-16-2022, 03:04 AM (This post was last modified: 09-16-2022, 03:05 AM by Alder. Edited 1 time in total.)
Mother was terrifying.

He had learned to differentiate between his two parents by specifically referring to Valeska as 'Mama' - for she was warm and comforting and down-to-earth.

While Amaranth was, most often, 'Mother'. It wasn't just Alder that had learned not to disturb her during moments of repose, or to run toward crying for comfort at the first sign of a cut; even his siblings felt a chill from her deadened eyes every once in a while, just... not quite so severely.

It was Mother who stared him down now, dialed up to 11, regarding him with such unimpressed intensity that he thought he might vaporize back into negative space. The way she could look at a person could entirely unmake them, if she so chose, and he felt himself shriveling beneath her apathetic ire.

He recounted his dream, locked in terror, unable to stop the words from pouring out of his mouth, and she stared and stared and stared. By the end of it he realized his legs were shaking, and he viciously willed them to stop, standing as if iron rods were shoved into each limb holding him upright.

Silence hung between them, vast as an ocean.

'Owls are dangerous when you are small.'

A pause.

'But no owl will be taking you away.'

Was that meant to be reassuring? From the way she spoke, it sounded like something even more horrible was going to make him disappear. He swallowed the lump in his throat, frozen to the spot.

With seemingly great effort, Mother continued their conversation, diverting it down a path that made only slightly more sense and sounded only slightly less threatening.

“Yeah, uh, I know everybody's safe...” he looked down at the floor, desperate to break their electric eye contact, worried he might burst into flames. “I just dunno why Mama and Aunt Harper would be kids in my dream. They were little. It just felt so real - like it really happened.”

Visions were terrifying. Valeska never spoke of her past beyond what she shared with Harper, painting a lovely picture of idyllic days frolicking in the snow; there was a weird bit of space where they weren't friends and didn't see each other for a while, but he hadn't thought to ask about it. Still, his dream made no sense. Was the owl a metaphor? Were the other two pups representations of someone else, of impending doom?

He shook his head. Mother was High Augur for a reason, he surmised. She was an expert.

Alder risked another question.

“Do you - have any siblings?”

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#8
Visionary
09-20-2022, 02:13 AM
He recoiled. Afraid. But Amaranth did not soften — she did not back down.

She continued to look at him with the intensity of a thousand eyes.

[Image: alice-in-wonderland-cat.gif]

“I just dunno why Mama and Aunt Harper would be kids in my dream. They were little. It just felt so real - like it really happened.”

She registered what he said, and it softened her gaze but only for the briefest of moments. So he was to be a seer, hmm? He was to travel time unknowingly in his dreams and report back to the realm of reality in his wake. It would have been fascinating — should have been fascinating. So why did it fill the pit of her stomach with dread? What else had he seen? Who else had he seen? What else would he see ... and what would he become?

"It takes time to understand," she mused softly, as if she were the ultimate expert on All-Things-Otherworldly. "Sometimes we never understand." She pressed her ears forward, still watching him, observing him as if she were observing a vision himself. "I think it will become clear to you one day." Perhaps it would become clear to her, too ... clear that he wasn't the monster she believed him to be. Or perhaps it would be too late, and she would turn him into the very monster she feared.

Time would reveal all.
It would become clear. One day.

“Do you - have any siblings?”

She'd been drifting, and the question snapped her back into reality. Soft golden ears fell backward gently atop her angled skull, her nostrils flaring lightly. Her expression did not change, but there was a muted glint in her eyes as she processed buried memories. "I did," she told him. (But he knew full well what happened to her siblings. He'd killed them, after all.) "But I never got the chance to know them," she continued, lips pressing into a thin line. It was a passive answer, but it was certainly not a lie.

He dreamed of dead siblings.
 Soon, perhaps, he'd dream of hers too.

He'd dream about what he'd done. And he'd remember.
 And he'd come back to finish what he started.

Amaranth feared that.

"How are you getting along with your siblings?" She tried to deter the subject away from dead siblings.

She just wasn't very good at small talk.

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#9
09-20-2022, 04:19 AM
For the first time since he could remember, Mother almost wavered - just for a moment. She looked at him with eyes that were not, for once, pointed daggers, and regarded him with an almost mystical whimsy as he finished recounting his experience. The feeling was incredible. He wanted to live in this moment forever, to say more things she wanted to hear, to hold her attention in some way that wasn't mere distaste.

She liked... well, she seemed interested in his dreams.

Cryptically, she uttered a few shreds of wisdom.

"It takes time to understand."

"Sometimes we never understand."

"I think it will become clear to you one day."

As quickly as the moment began, it ended. Like a door slamming shut she was suddenly all icy rigidity once more, straightening up like a cobra, regarding him with shrewd, narrowed eyes. He shrank back visibly, not sure of what he'd done wrong this time - but any hope he had of exploring the conversation as family versus hostile entities was gone. Gods, Mother was so difficult to talk to... how did she and Mama ever meet?

Maybe talking about her own family would cheer her up -

"I never got the chance to know them."

What... did that mean?

Alder prayed for death. He wasn't sure if he believed in the Five at all, not that he would ever dream of telling Mama, but deep in his heart, in this instance, he was ready to be religious for a swift delivery. It was almost laughable. Every word, every possible phrase, every subject he could conjure up ended with her venomous stare and disapproving frown, and he didn't know why he was so cursed. His eyes welled with tears inadvertently, and he struggled to blink them away - but several fat globs rolled down his soft pale cheeks, and he sniffled in spite of himself.

She hadn't even said anything mean. It was just the sheer hopelessness of trying to get closer to her, to know her, because she was his mother, too, but he ruined everything he touched.

“I - I'm sorry,” he whispered, not knowing what else to say. “I just wanted to - to know more about you - Mama talks a lot about you and -”

Coldly, she asked about his siblings.

“Um.”

Oh, god. Was this a test? Should he lie? Was she trying to see if he was a failure there, too?

No. She would probably be able to tell if he lied.

“... Fine. Violet is... anyway, Cissa and Sreda leave me alone a lot of the time. Dimitri is nice though. He's just nervous a lot.”

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#10
Visionary
09-27-2022, 02:27 AM
“I - I'm sorry,” he puttered, and the cold door to her heart shuddered with muted agony.

She wanted to forgive him.

The child, small and red and quaking, reverted inward. He let the intensity of his visions die away, leaving just an empty and cold shell in the wake of warm dreams. He was a lost child again — hiding once more in sheep's clothing. And she wanted to forgive him, but her pale purple eyes remained rigid. She wished nothing more than to drain him of his color and that dangerous potency that was latent in his veins.

He was powerful. She wanted that power neutered so that ... she could pull him closer.

He began to talk listlessly about his siblings, and whatever moment of magic they had started to share slowly fading away. A dying ember. A muted star.

She grew exhausted. Tired of trying to figure him out. Tired of wanting him to fail while the pesky voice of Valeska nudged her to give him the support he needed to succeed. She grew exhausted of repressing the memories she'd spent years erasing through sleepless nights and countless drugs. She grew intolerant of the burning pain in her chest that she felt every time she simply looked at him.

"Alder," she started, finally saying his name. "Always be a good brother, hm?" 'Take care of them. Take care of Valeska. Whatever business you have with me, save it all for me.' The words echoed softly, cryptic as they dissipated into the darkness of the den. "Now, the day is young," she continued a bit dismissively, her tail flicking as her eyes gazed toward the mouth of the den where the morning light was peaking through. She would stay here, ponder. Ruminate. Writhe. But —

"but should you ever wish to discuss your ... visions, again, you can come to find me. If you'd like." 'Just don't jump on me first.'

It was a cautious offer, but one she meant. Her ears pressed forward, eyes growing dim as sleep threatened at her hooded lids. And with that, the golden wraith spun in place a few times before nearly collapsing onto her pile of trinkets ... and there she would rest, in a pile of dust and decay. Alder could stay or go, but the fortune teller spoke no further.
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#11
Visionary
09-29-2022, 09:52 PM
He would rather she beat him.

Bite him.

Kick him.

Anything - anything else but stare at him with that cold, disappointed gaze. He always knew Mother held strong spiritual power, an overwhelming presence in every room with the heaviness of her quiet perception, but he found it crushing. Suffocating. Every quaking nerve in Alder's body screamed at him to run, yet he remained where he stood.

His ears fell back against his head, tail tucking submissively between his legs.

What was wrong with him?

A wave of exhaustion suddenly seemed to overtake her, and Amaranth finally broke the silence, surprising the boy by uttering his name - but it still sounded wrong, somehow, coming from her lips.

She was dismissing him.

Alder knew enough not to keep bothering her when clearly there was no point.

“Yes, Mother...” he responded listlessly, unable to meet her eyes any longer. The floor seemed kinder anyway. What was a good brother? He tried so hard already, but Violet hated him, and the others only occasionally tolerated his presence enough to play any games.

She spoke again. She offered to... listen. Again. In the future, about his visions.

A small spark of hope lit up inside his soul, and he offered a hopeful smile, eyes still puffy from his emotional outburst prior.

“I would - yes! I'll have lots more visions, Mother, I'm sure!” he started excitedly, taking several steps closer, forgetting himself entirely. “Mama talks about the gods a lot, but I don't know - is that what it is? My dreams are crazy! I have tons of dreams, but they're also weird, like I had a drea - a vision of a rock growing legs and walking off. Was that a vision?”

But with a sinking heart, he realized Amaranth had already fallen asleep.

Alder left without another word.

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