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!

funeral for a son

Afternoon Overcast 50° F
12-20-2022, 05:43 PM
The way of the rabbit is to know death.

Of course, Nicabar's been taking precautions to avoid the deaths of his inner circle. But the Magistra reminds him every so often that his grand designs could not happen. They could not possibly prevent the deaths of even royals; his own father had been taken by a cat. But his patrols are strict, and his rule is absolute. He will prevent the deaths of his family.

He believes he is made of iron. That he is unbreakable. That his plans will come to fruition. And then Julius, the smallest of the four Merenda children, is taken.

The patrols might work against land-based predators, but they do noting for the skies. The hawk that kills Julius doesn't think for a moment of the barely-adult corpse he's eating now. Just that Julius had been an easy target, staring into the abyss as his blood splatters against the ground. And then the corpse is gone, dragged back to a hawk's nest.

Nicabar stares at the spot where his son used to stand. He will not weep before the gathered rabbits. Nor will he admit defeat. No, this is an error he can fix. And so he turns on the nearest citizen. "Who was watching the skies?" he starts, his voice fragile and raw. "Was there not a warning sent?"
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