<![CDATA[Vivarium - Northern Alpines]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/ Sun, 28 Jun 2026 20:26:35 +0000 MyBB <![CDATA[she sells seashells by the seashore]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12390 Sun, 28 Jun 2026 16:00:26 -0400 Cupid]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12390 [Image: 89658885-kvl-JVi9Za-FYLvui.png]

The shrine to Aphrodite sits on the beach, just above the wash of the tide but close enough for sand to shift beneath Cupid's paws as he approaches. Directly opposite, across the island and nestled in the mountains and pine, lies Freya's own shrine.

Grandiose temples are outside of Cupid's purview in this body, but he has done what he must for their patrons. Aphrodite's shrine is made of layers of driftwood locked together, with seashells and seaglass tucked into every nook and cranny of the wood, and tied to the branches with vine. In the seabreeze, the decorations sway and chime as they clink together, a musical symphony that makes it easy for Cupid to find anytime. A desiccating corpse of a sacrifice lies at the bottom of the shrine. Cupid noses the tufts of fur and sinew into the hungering sea, then turns back to the shrine.

Elbows sink into the sand as he prostrates himself to the shrine of the goddess who bore him. The sound of murmured prayer is lost beneath the sigh of the waves and the wail of a gull high overhead.

Lupercalia. It is too late in the season for the celebration, but spring is the first season since the darkness that enveloped the world worth celebrating. And Cupid is not willing to let the fickle and violent weather of springtime in these far northern islands ruin Skjoldrheim's first festival in so long. The messengers have been sent. Will any come? Their numbers have dwindled greatly following the harsh and long winter. Cupid knows little of what the world of the mainland looks like now.

It will not matter. Come one, come none. Cupid is steadfast in his faith in the wolves brave enough to call this island home, and in the goddesses that have claimed their people as their own to watch over.

Lupercalia, to celebrate the return of the light, and to remind themselves never to forget the darkness they have survived.

]]> [Image: 89658885-kvl-JVi9Za-FYLvui.png]

The shrine to Aphrodite sits on the beach, just above the wash of the tide but close enough for sand to shift beneath Cupid's paws as he approaches. Directly opposite, across the island and nestled in the mountains and pine, lies Freya's own shrine.

Grandiose temples are outside of Cupid's purview in this body, but he has done what he must for their patrons. Aphrodite's shrine is made of layers of driftwood locked together, with seashells and seaglass tucked into every nook and cranny of the wood, and tied to the branches with vine. In the seabreeze, the decorations sway and chime as they clink together, a musical symphony that makes it easy for Cupid to find anytime. A desiccating corpse of a sacrifice lies at the bottom of the shrine. Cupid noses the tufts of fur and sinew into the hungering sea, then turns back to the shrine.

Elbows sink into the sand as he prostrates himself to the shrine of the goddess who bore him. The sound of murmured prayer is lost beneath the sigh of the waves and the wail of a gull high overhead.

Lupercalia. It is too late in the season for the celebration, but spring is the first season since the darkness that enveloped the world worth celebrating. And Cupid is not willing to let the fickle and violent weather of springtime in these far northern islands ruin Skjoldrheim's first festival in so long. The messengers have been sent. Will any come? Their numbers have dwindled greatly following the harsh and long winter. Cupid knows little of what the world of the mainland looks like now.

It will not matter. Come one, come none. Cupid is steadfast in his faith in the wolves brave enough to call this island home, and in the goddesses that have claimed their people as their own to watch over.

Lupercalia, to celebrate the return of the light, and to remind themselves never to forget the darkness they have survived.

]]> <![CDATA[it's time to strap our boots on]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12379 Sat, 27 Jun 2026 18:39:20 -0400 Hexx]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12379
The last thing he remembered was the other man, the one he had spent weeks following; one lead after another, most ending exactly as expected. Dead ends and rumors. Tracks that belonged to someone else, but eventually, there had only been one left. he never learned the mans name, only that he had crossed paths with Monty shortly before his son disappeared. Whether he had been responsible or merely knew something hadn't mattered.

He had answers, and Hexx intended to get them.

The conversation hadn't lasted long before steel nerves met a sharper tongue suspicion giving way to violence before either had managed much more than a handful of words. The stranger fought with the desperation of someone protecting more than his own life, and Hexx had answered in kind.

Fragments were all he remembered after that, and a body disappearing into the trees.

—

Hexx opened his eyes to a canopy of green leaves shifting gently overhead, indifferent to the blood dried across his shoulder and chest. He remained still only long enough to take stock. His left shoulder had been torn open badly enough to stiffen the entire leg, several cuts littered his side. Every deep breath pressed against cracked ribs, though nothing felt broken badly enough to stop him walking, it was good enough for him.

So he climbed onto his feet and started walking. His pace was slower than usual, blood loss making itself known with each mile, but he continued all the same. The forest gradually became familiar in ways he hadn't expected until the mountains themselves came into view.

Dawnbreak? He huffed and continued toward home, blood slowly working its way back through the fur along his shoulder with every step.

—
]]>
The last thing he remembered was the other man, the one he had spent weeks following; one lead after another, most ending exactly as expected. Dead ends and rumors. Tracks that belonged to someone else, but eventually, there had only been one left. he never learned the mans name, only that he had crossed paths with Monty shortly before his son disappeared. Whether he had been responsible or merely knew something hadn't mattered.

He had answers, and Hexx intended to get them.

The conversation hadn't lasted long before steel nerves met a sharper tongue suspicion giving way to violence before either had managed much more than a handful of words. The stranger fought with the desperation of someone protecting more than his own life, and Hexx had answered in kind.

Fragments were all he remembered after that, and a body disappearing into the trees.

—

Hexx opened his eyes to a canopy of green leaves shifting gently overhead, indifferent to the blood dried across his shoulder and chest. He remained still only long enough to take stock. His left shoulder had been torn open badly enough to stiffen the entire leg, several cuts littered his side. Every deep breath pressed against cracked ribs, though nothing felt broken badly enough to stop him walking, it was good enough for him.

So he climbed onto his feet and started walking. His pace was slower than usual, blood loss making itself known with each mile, but he continued all the same. The forest gradually became familiar in ways he hadn't expected until the mountains themselves came into view.

Dawnbreak? He huffed and continued toward home, blood slowly working its way back through the fur along his shoulder with every step.

—
]]> <![CDATA[diffusion]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12364 Fri, 26 Jun 2026 12:33:44 -0400 Yanan]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12364 unmade. remade. yanan was dissembled through pleasure and bonded by the reconnections to follow. measured by hour, these many last days. when the goat gave little else, another hunt. eagle hunter did not stray from the cave except for natural necessity, holding in all truth to her need to be alongside dogwood.
body had caught fire, another span of time melted into seconds and divided by emotion, sensation, breath. querida; she knew this one now.
rain dripped from stone eaveway. yanan had pushed portions of goatskin into a pallet, and here she lay, heavy-lidded.
since the week's start, a horrendous fatigue had come to attend every moment, and she feared some illness was coming to settle upon her. thus; how you feel? offered to , yanan rolling to one exhausted elbow for the purpose of peering pointedly into the pretty yellow eyes.
]]> unmade. remade. yanan was dissembled through pleasure and bonded by the reconnections to follow. measured by hour, these many last days. when the goat gave little else, another hunt. eagle hunter did not stray from the cave except for natural necessity, holding in all truth to her need to be alongside dogwood.
body had caught fire, another span of time melted into seconds and divided by emotion, sensation, breath. querida; she knew this one now.
rain dripped from stone eaveway. yanan had pushed portions of goatskin into a pallet, and here she lay, heavy-lidded.
since the week's start, a horrendous fatigue had come to attend every moment, and she feared some illness was coming to settle upon her. thus; how you feel? offered to , yanan rolling to one exhausted elbow for the purpose of peering pointedly into the pretty yellow eyes.
]]> <![CDATA[sailed off in a wooden shoe]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12363 Fri, 26 Jun 2026 11:41:54 -0400 Euphemia]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12363

Eupehmia has not realized she’s
pregnant yet, but others might!

What was life, on the other side of tumultuous change, tremendous gain, and personal tragedy?

Well, it was all pretty fine.

Actually, it was more than fine – it was great. Adonis was the perfect specimen of anything she had ever desired in a man. Tiberii had just brought forth the third generation of Frostfang Vale’s dutiful caretakers. Dalmatia was married and laden with children of her own. The long night had broken, and neglected to return. Further, no one she cared about had died for a long, long time.

It wasn’t just great, it was all spectacular!

Somehow, that led the silver woman to stand in front of her herbal storehouse. It was far from where her den lay, as she had followed her intuition to find a small cavern on the far eastern side of the range, which too was on the eastern side of the mountain, as it was drier and less prone to the rains that blew in from the sea…

But now it stood empty; forgotten. The entrance, which had been compacted and worn smooth, had been reduced to dust. The herbs that had been left on the shelves had been scattered by rodents, and some had grown mold. It even looked as if a family of raccoons had moved in, raised a family, and then left.

Phia hadn’t been back since she had spent that night here with Ric, more than four months ago.

She hadn’t wanted to go back. Hadn’t wanted to come and face the location she had passed her last hours with Alaric, speaking all the things their hearts dared not say. It hadn’t been beautiful, but it had been raw – and mere hours afterwards, the man lay dead. Bleeding underneath a pile of yellow eyes.

In truth, Euphemia didn’t want Adonis to know, now that she understood how he felt about nonmonogamy. What had passed between her and Alaric felt profane - from the very beginning, to all the secrets passed between them here. The woman could find it in herself to bring it up with Adonis again – and for what reason?

Not when the Storyteller was so lovely, and the world had kept on turning so finely. There was nothing in her storehouse that would rouse suspicion, but that was not the point. Euphemia knew, and Euphemia remembered.

This wasn't even to mention at all how Euphemia had not touched an herb, or harvested an herb, or planted their seeds, or even looked at a woody plant in months. In her desire to avoid the storehouse, Euphemia had nearly forgotten she was an herbalist at all.

The end of the world hadn’t helped, either.

So the woman grabbed a fallen branch betwixt her jaws, and began to methodically sweep out the cobwebs, and intermediately gathered the old herbs into a refuse pile.


]]>

Eupehmia has not realized she’s
pregnant yet, but others might!

What was life, on the other side of tumultuous change, tremendous gain, and personal tragedy?

Well, it was all pretty fine.

Actually, it was more than fine – it was great. Adonis was the perfect specimen of anything she had ever desired in a man. Tiberii had just brought forth the third generation of Frostfang Vale’s dutiful caretakers. Dalmatia was married and laden with children of her own. The long night had broken, and neglected to return. Further, no one she cared about had died for a long, long time.

It wasn’t just great, it was all spectacular!

Somehow, that led the silver woman to stand in front of her herbal storehouse. It was far from where her den lay, as she had followed her intuition to find a small cavern on the far eastern side of the range, which too was on the eastern side of the mountain, as it was drier and less prone to the rains that blew in from the sea…

But now it stood empty; forgotten. The entrance, which had been compacted and worn smooth, had been reduced to dust. The herbs that had been left on the shelves had been scattered by rodents, and some had grown mold. It even looked as if a family of raccoons had moved in, raised a family, and then left.

Phia hadn’t been back since she had spent that night here with Ric, more than four months ago.

She hadn’t wanted to go back. Hadn’t wanted to come and face the location she had passed her last hours with Alaric, speaking all the things their hearts dared not say. It hadn’t been beautiful, but it had been raw – and mere hours afterwards, the man lay dead. Bleeding underneath a pile of yellow eyes.

In truth, Euphemia didn’t want Adonis to know, now that she understood how he felt about nonmonogamy. What had passed between her and Alaric felt profane - from the very beginning, to all the secrets passed between them here. The woman could find it in herself to bring it up with Adonis again – and for what reason?

Not when the Storyteller was so lovely, and the world had kept on turning so finely. There was nothing in her storehouse that would rouse suspicion, but that was not the point. Euphemia knew, and Euphemia remembered.

This wasn't even to mention at all how Euphemia had not touched an herb, or harvested an herb, or planted their seeds, or even looked at a woody plant in months. In her desire to avoid the storehouse, Euphemia had nearly forgotten she was an herbalist at all.

The end of the world hadn’t helped, either.

So the woman grabbed a fallen branch betwixt her jaws, and began to methodically sweep out the cobwebs, and intermediately gathered the old herbs into a refuse pile.


]]> <![CDATA[Take me to your heart, Feel me in your bones]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12348 Thu, 25 Jun 2026 03:34:24 -0400 Seraphim]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12348
For but open to family members too <3

Excitement! Adventure! The day urged Seraphim to go out, do things, see places, and he wasn't keen on ignoring it! The sun streaming inside the cave was bright, and gold, and warm, and wonderful! Even the breeze that danced inside was pleasant and cozy, bringing with it the scents of salt, flowers, and that of his kin. Though it was Raisa and his sisters he spent every single waking moment beside, there was no shortage of family around them to dote upon him and thus be smothered in his affections. Dyadya Carnifex, Tetushka Serafina, Babushka Shreya, Pops - common faces in the den, and in the ravine, now that they'd begun to be allowed outdoors mostly at will. Even at night! As long as someone was awake, as long as there was adult supervision, Phim had largely figured out -by trial and error- that he could do whatever he pleased!
Well, inside the ravine. Мать said 'time for that later', each time he asked. Later, later, later. Sometimes, at his most annoying, he could get her to say he was too young for that. But didn't she know he was so much bigger than he was last week? (He was not, being amidst the 'frozen' period of puphood) Still, he obeyed, partially because he had no capacity for lying (yet) and because he had learned that one: someone was always watching and two: he would only be brought back anyways! This was always what happened when he dared roam too far from the den.

This was life, and Seraphim loved it. He knew there was more outside the place Raisa so keenly guarded, especially because he had seen the adults coming and going themselves, but there was plenty to see and do and learn right here at home where it was safe and the nest was cozy. Mummy, for instance, was always telling stories or teaching them new words!

Мать! Phim's determined cry came as a forewarning as his afternoon zoomies turned towards the dazzling den mouth, Ou-side!

As expected, there was a shuffle of fur that told him she was following, and a: 'stay where I can see you!' called after. Sometimes, she walked with them and she taught them things. Others, she took to scouring along the edge of the ravine or otherwise at a distance, head up, observing the world around her with one eye on the whelps at all times. The same possessiveness was already ingrained into his very nature, too. He appreciated her ever-present gaze.

The dark grey child burst outside with a yip of joy and a kick of his heels, screeching Scarrrrrrrrrrr! 'Stasiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Ou-side!

EVERYTHING WAS PURPLE!!

Okay, not everything, but there were flowers! Everywhere! That Phim couldn't recall seeing ever before, but hey, he noticed new things every day! He jogged for one, his curly tail wagging and floppy ears bounding around his face. LOOKIT! He wasn't even sure anyone had followed him, but it didn't matter. HE was looking at it.



]]>
For but open to family members too <3

Excitement! Adventure! The day urged Seraphim to go out, do things, see places, and he wasn't keen on ignoring it! The sun streaming inside the cave was bright, and gold, and warm, and wonderful! Even the breeze that danced inside was pleasant and cozy, bringing with it the scents of salt, flowers, and that of his kin. Though it was Raisa and his sisters he spent every single waking moment beside, there was no shortage of family around them to dote upon him and thus be smothered in his affections. Dyadya Carnifex, Tetushka Serafina, Babushka Shreya, Pops - common faces in the den, and in the ravine, now that they'd begun to be allowed outdoors mostly at will. Even at night! As long as someone was awake, as long as there was adult supervision, Phim had largely figured out -by trial and error- that he could do whatever he pleased!
Well, inside the ravine. Мать said 'time for that later', each time he asked. Later, later, later. Sometimes, at his most annoying, he could get her to say he was too young for that. But didn't she know he was so much bigger than he was last week? (He was not, being amidst the 'frozen' period of puphood) Still, he obeyed, partially because he had no capacity for lying (yet) and because he had learned that one: someone was always watching and two: he would only be brought back anyways! This was always what happened when he dared roam too far from the den.

This was life, and Seraphim loved it. He knew there was more outside the place Raisa so keenly guarded, especially because he had seen the adults coming and going themselves, but there was plenty to see and do and learn right here at home where it was safe and the nest was cozy. Mummy, for instance, was always telling stories or teaching them new words!

Мать! Phim's determined cry came as a forewarning as his afternoon zoomies turned towards the dazzling den mouth, Ou-side!

As expected, there was a shuffle of fur that told him she was following, and a: 'stay where I can see you!' called after. Sometimes, she walked with them and she taught them things. Others, she took to scouring along the edge of the ravine or otherwise at a distance, head up, observing the world around her with one eye on the whelps at all times. The same possessiveness was already ingrained into his very nature, too. He appreciated her ever-present gaze.

The dark grey child burst outside with a yip of joy and a kick of his heels, screeching Scarrrrrrrrrrr! 'Stasiaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Ou-side!

EVERYTHING WAS PURPLE!!

Okay, not everything, but there were flowers! Everywhere! That Phim couldn't recall seeing ever before, but hey, he noticed new things every day! He jogged for one, his curly tail wagging and floppy ears bounding around his face. LOOKIT! He wasn't even sure anyone had followed him, but it didn't matter. HE was looking at it.



]]> <![CDATA[rip to everyone killed by their hubris but im better. maybe even better than the gods]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12326 Tue, 23 Jun 2026 21:15:52 -0400 Bragi]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12326 [Image: 90381520_PiJOkmVsjzURMnt.png?1747736006]
✦✦✦

Bragi opened her eyes to an unfamiliar face, the eyes wide and wild, the cheeks gaunt and hollow, and tension evident in every twitching muscle fiber. Her fur was in her eyes and the breeze was downright frigid as it whisked gently over her waterlogged form. She knew that look.

Pulling her lips back from her teeth, she snarled with her entire chest at the mangy, half-starved coyote, eyeing her like she was a particularly fragrant corpse. It turned tail immediately, wisely deciding that she wasn't worth the fight. Satisfied, she rose — drenched, dripping, and just a little noodly in the legs — to her feet.

She couldn't remember how she got here, but that wasn't unusual. It was unusual, however, that she didn't recognize here. That hadn't happened in a long, long time. There were none of the lingering scents of her dads, or her siblings, or her pack like she was used to. Just a cool breeze, crisp with spring, and the memory of a voice in the back of her head, fading and angry.

Get. OUT—!

Bragi snorted suddenly, expelling whatever water was left in her nostrils after her impromptu swim and shook out her coat. Ah, whatever. There was no use worrying about that loser right now. Because Bragi was a free agent again, her mind blissfully clear, and she was determined — as always — to make the most of it.

]]> [Image: 90381520_PiJOkmVsjzURMnt.png?1747736006]
✦✦✦

Bragi opened her eyes to an unfamiliar face, the eyes wide and wild, the cheeks gaunt and hollow, and tension evident in every twitching muscle fiber. Her fur was in her eyes and the breeze was downright frigid as it whisked gently over her waterlogged form. She knew that look.

Pulling her lips back from her teeth, she snarled with her entire chest at the mangy, half-starved coyote, eyeing her like she was a particularly fragrant corpse. It turned tail immediately, wisely deciding that she wasn't worth the fight. Satisfied, she rose — drenched, dripping, and just a little noodly in the legs — to her feet.

She couldn't remember how she got here, but that wasn't unusual. It was unusual, however, that she didn't recognize here. That hadn't happened in a long, long time. There were none of the lingering scents of her dads, or her siblings, or her pack like she was used to. Just a cool breeze, crisp with spring, and the memory of a voice in the back of her head, fading and angry.

Get. OUT—!

Bragi snorted suddenly, expelling whatever water was left in her nostrils after her impromptu swim and shook out her coat. Ah, whatever. There was no use worrying about that loser right now. Because Bragi was a free agent again, her mind blissfully clear, and she was determined — as always — to make the most of it.

]]> <![CDATA[communication skills]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12312 Tue, 23 Jun 2026 01:39:46 -0400 Jas]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12312

The faint flickering of a fire pushed Jas forwards, away from the fields and his lover, who was most likely himself. A better wolf might have been concerned, and put distance between their clone or copy, but all Jas wanted was to be closer, until the urge to explore became too great.

The flames here were some strange creation. Vague, distant memories flickered behind her eyes, too dull to make out. Their usual expression - a dull smirk - had all been wiped in favour of a sort of mild interest. If he didn't know better, he might have ran through the pink fire just to see how it licked into the most painful parts of himself, see if it burnt his pawpads beyond recognition. But, as if on time, their toe, or lack thereof began to itch. Yes, she knew better. She wouldn't.]]>

The faint flickering of a fire pushed Jas forwards, away from the fields and his lover, who was most likely himself. A better wolf might have been concerned, and put distance between their clone or copy, but all Jas wanted was to be closer, until the urge to explore became too great.

The flames here were some strange creation. Vague, distant memories flickered behind her eyes, too dull to make out. Their usual expression - a dull smirk - had all been wiped in favour of a sort of mild interest. If he didn't know better, he might have ran through the pink fire just to see how it licked into the most painful parts of himself, see if it burnt his pawpads beyond recognition. But, as if on time, their toe, or lack thereof began to itch. Yes, she knew better. She wouldn't.]]> <![CDATA[Kicking Out Every Light]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12302 Mon, 22 Jun 2026 16:24:09 -0400 Malakor]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12302 [Image: 122125424_n5H00DvAQNlGPoz.png]
—
"That's enough!" His voice thundered through the chamber halls. A white-tipped tail lashed behind him as fire-red eyes settled upon his wife seated at his side. "I will not tolerate your poor excuses. Leave. We will discuss this alone." As he turned fully toward Perdita, something struck him. As he opened his jaw to speak—

A sharp grunt caught in his throat. Pain followed. Teeth buried deep into his neck. For a heartbeat, Malakor couldn't understand what had happened.

Then the room lurched. His eyes widened. Perdita. His paw reached for her. Not far enough.

Never far enough.

The chamber spun into darkness before he could shout a warning. Before he could touch her. Before he could do anything at all.

Malakor had deemed himself a failure.

Cold. The sensation returned first. Freezing wind bit through his fur. Snow clung to his coat. Rough spruce bark pressed against his back. His eyes snapped open. For a brief moment he didn't know where he was. Then memories came rushing back. The chamber. The attack. Perdita.

Perdita!

Perdita! The name tore from him before he could stop it.

Snow scattered as he lurched to his paws and shook himself free of the icy clumps. Rage immediately followed. Hot and violent beneath his ribs. Someone had done this. Someone was responsible. And when he found them, he would make certain they regretted it.

But first—

Perdita.

If he was here, then she had to be somewhere nearby. She has to be here. The thought became a lifeline. Without another moment wasted, Malakor pushed forward into the forest. Snow crunched beneath his paws as he began his search.
—
LANGUAGES;
Common ]]> [Image: 122125424_n5H00DvAQNlGPoz.png]
—
"That's enough!" His voice thundered through the chamber halls. A white-tipped tail lashed behind him as fire-red eyes settled upon his wife seated at his side. "I will not tolerate your poor excuses. Leave. We will discuss this alone." As he turned fully toward Perdita, something struck him. As he opened his jaw to speak—

A sharp grunt caught in his throat. Pain followed. Teeth buried deep into his neck. For a heartbeat, Malakor couldn't understand what had happened.

Then the room lurched. His eyes widened. Perdita. His paw reached for her. Not far enough.

Never far enough.

The chamber spun into darkness before he could shout a warning. Before he could touch her. Before he could do anything at all.

Malakor had deemed himself a failure.

Cold. The sensation returned first. Freezing wind bit through his fur. Snow clung to his coat. Rough spruce bark pressed against his back. His eyes snapped open. For a brief moment he didn't know where he was. Then memories came rushing back. The chamber. The attack. Perdita.

Perdita!

Perdita! The name tore from him before he could stop it.

Snow scattered as he lurched to his paws and shook himself free of the icy clumps. Rage immediately followed. Hot and violent beneath his ribs. Someone had done this. Someone was responsible. And when he found them, he would make certain they regretted it.

But first—

Perdita.

If he was here, then she had to be somewhere nearby. She has to be here. The thought became a lifeline. Without another moment wasted, Malakor pushed forward into the forest. Snow crunched beneath his paws as he began his search.
—
LANGUAGES;
Common ]]> <![CDATA[[BIRTH] be my death or my forever]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12279 Sun, 21 Jun 2026 20:15:31 -0400 Tiberii]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12279 OOC
, first — but any of the seconds of DB or the direct family of Tiberii will be welcome after the pups are born!! <3 If you wanna join and aren't sure, just pop me a DM (chances are you can come by hehehe)
[Image: 18667993?1765670211]
Restless. Agitated. On edge. Anxious.

Her heart rattled against the cage of her ribs, her paws pacing in and out of the den she'd rearranged at least 17 times in the past hour. It didn't look right — no, it didn't feel right. And every piece of pelt and fur and grass that she moved just added to her annoyance. It wasn't perfect. It needed to be perfect.

Why the fuck wasn't this pile of shit perfect!?

A grunt escaped her lips, but she could not stop her ceaseless pacing. The bull's eyebrows furrowed, calcite eyes narrowing to slits as a sudden, splitting pain then crested her abdomen. She would flinch, back tightening before her face suddenly became far less angry and far more bewildered. Like a deer in headlights, her entire demeanor shifted as the tumble of life in her belly became suddenly ... active.

And it hurt.

Shit, she started, breathing accelerating as she tried to rely on her previous anger about the disorganized den to drive her. Shit, shitshit, shit, no, no, nope. Nonsense flew from her lips as her pacing grew more frantic, the heat of the day bearing down on her back as she clenched against another painful wave. Shiloh, she nearly growled, ears flattening. She knew he wouldn't be far; he was practically a jump-scare away in the bushes at any given moment as of late. 

She'd turn to him, uncertainty and pain morphing into ... a sort of brilliant, beautiful anger. Her eyes were alight, but her mouth was twisted into an awful grimace. The den ... the den isn't perfect. Her words rumbled from her mouth, nonsensical and agitated as another wave tightened in her belly. It brought forth a snarl from her depths, her eyes flashing wildly. It has to be perfect or I ... her lips tightened, the anger masquerading over the belly of her fear. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, she started, repeating the words uselessly as panic took over between her aching snarls.

But she knew. Somewhere deep within, her instinct grew stronger.

She knew it was time.

And she would have to do this, even if she believed she couldn't.

And she had to do something. Solvi, Tiberii would state, trailing her way into the den, beginning once more to rearrange every single individual item present there with frantic precision. I think ... I think I need Solvi, she told Shiloh, not looking up as she continued to dig uselessly at the ground. And that was when she realized what it was missing. Wait, Shiloh, she'd quickly add, lifting her head and glancing toward him. It was serious. Gravely serious. Another pelt, too. Yes. That was exactly what the den needed.

Their children were ready to enter the world.

But was the world ready for them?
[Image: ddmgbwy-60b4b68a-ffd3-45e3-8772-545ca4ac...YDh98WKmTY]
]]> OOC
, first — but any of the seconds of DB or the direct family of Tiberii will be welcome after the pups are born!! <3 If you wanna join and aren't sure, just pop me a DM (chances are you can come by hehehe)
[Image: 18667993?1765670211]
Restless. Agitated. On edge. Anxious.

Her heart rattled against the cage of her ribs, her paws pacing in and out of the den she'd rearranged at least 17 times in the past hour. It didn't look right — no, it didn't feel right. And every piece of pelt and fur and grass that she moved just added to her annoyance. It wasn't perfect. It needed to be perfect.

Why the fuck wasn't this pile of shit perfect!?

A grunt escaped her lips, but she could not stop her ceaseless pacing. The bull's eyebrows furrowed, calcite eyes narrowing to slits as a sudden, splitting pain then crested her abdomen. She would flinch, back tightening before her face suddenly became far less angry and far more bewildered. Like a deer in headlights, her entire demeanor shifted as the tumble of life in her belly became suddenly ... active.

And it hurt.

Shit, she started, breathing accelerating as she tried to rely on her previous anger about the disorganized den to drive her. Shit, shitshit, shit, no, no, nope. Nonsense flew from her lips as her pacing grew more frantic, the heat of the day bearing down on her back as she clenched against another painful wave. Shiloh, she nearly growled, ears flattening. She knew he wouldn't be far; he was practically a jump-scare away in the bushes at any given moment as of late. 

She'd turn to him, uncertainty and pain morphing into ... a sort of brilliant, beautiful anger. Her eyes were alight, but her mouth was twisted into an awful grimace. The den ... the den isn't perfect. Her words rumbled from her mouth, nonsensical and agitated as another wave tightened in her belly. It brought forth a snarl from her depths, her eyes flashing wildly. It has to be perfect or I ... her lips tightened, the anger masquerading over the belly of her fear. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't, she started, repeating the words uselessly as panic took over between her aching snarls.

But she knew. Somewhere deep within, her instinct grew stronger.

She knew it was time.

And she would have to do this, even if she believed she couldn't.

And she had to do something. Solvi, Tiberii would state, trailing her way into the den, beginning once more to rearrange every single individual item present there with frantic precision. I think ... I think I need Solvi, she told Shiloh, not looking up as she continued to dig uselessly at the ground. And that was when she realized what it was missing. Wait, Shiloh, she'd quickly add, lifting her head and glancing toward him. It was serious. Gravely serious. Another pelt, too. Yes. That was exactly what the den needed.

Their children were ready to enter the world.

But was the world ready for them?
[Image: ddmgbwy-60b4b68a-ffd3-45e3-8772-545ca4ac...YDh98WKmTY]
]]> <![CDATA[i'm getting tired of watching other people go]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12258 Sat, 20 Jun 2026 22:39:56 -0400 Chasing Wind]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12258
hoofbeats ring like thunder. somewhere close a mare lays dying, and instinct draws the collective to leave her at once.

héruŋ-šáru approaches with tact, creeping belly-low through swaying fronds. his tongue flicks needlequick between his teeth, tasting palpably the scent of her sweat.

drawing closer the sounds of her ragged breathing meet his keen ears. the sight before him is a wretched mess, too. blood and viscera beyond comprehension. one can only assume some larger, stronger beast will return shortly to make good of this.

and so he wastes little time bothering to comprehend the fear in her eyes. one paw braces against her gut as he shreds breathing flesh, reveling in the warmth of her blood as it splashes his mouth.

above all he is grateful. grateful she is weak and grateful she is not spoken for. his own wounds are far too grave— they inhibit his ability to run, to hunt and to crouch. even this minimal movement leaves him panting and whale-eyed.
]]>
hoofbeats ring like thunder. somewhere close a mare lays dying, and instinct draws the collective to leave her at once.

héruŋ-šáru approaches with tact, creeping belly-low through swaying fronds. his tongue flicks needlequick between his teeth, tasting palpably the scent of her sweat.

drawing closer the sounds of her ragged breathing meet his keen ears. the sight before him is a wretched mess, too. blood and viscera beyond comprehension. one can only assume some larger, stronger beast will return shortly to make good of this.

and so he wastes little time bothering to comprehend the fear in her eyes. one paw braces against her gut as he shreds breathing flesh, reveling in the warmth of her blood as it splashes his mouth.

above all he is grateful. grateful she is weak and grateful she is not spoken for. his own wounds are far too grave— they inhibit his ability to run, to hunt and to crouch. even this minimal movement leaves him panting and whale-eyed.
]]> <![CDATA[At your worst]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12227 Thu, 18 Jun 2026 12:49:46 -0400 Aurelia]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12227
For , set during 's wedding
Skill: Brewmaster

Tiberii, roundly pregnant. Dalmatia, blissfully wedded. Euphemia...

... And her many suitors.

Aurelia had always considered herself very independent. She didn't need anyone. She enjoyed the company of others at times, yes, even sought it out on occasion, but after her most recent conversation with a terrible reality had shifted the delicate balance of her Very Independent world.

Another fermented berry slid down her throat with a loud gulp. How many had she consumed now? Not nearly enough. The world was growing a little fuzzy around the edges, but she could still hear her own thoughts, and they needed to go away. The distant sound of merriment filtered through the air all around her, a mishmash of excited voices and various cheering as the reception and accompanying feast were now well underway.

Aurelia had found a (reasonably) quiet place to collect herself. She'd secreted away a pelt full of fermented berries along with her, feeling a little boost would help her focus on the joyous event instead of her own tumultuous thoughts.

Reaching down, she scooped up another berry.

Any minute now and she'd be well enough to gently sway her way back toward the press of bodies.
]]>
For , set during 's wedding
Skill: Brewmaster

Tiberii, roundly pregnant. Dalmatia, blissfully wedded. Euphemia...

... And her many suitors.

Aurelia had always considered herself very independent. She didn't need anyone. She enjoyed the company of others at times, yes, even sought it out on occasion, but after her most recent conversation with a terrible reality had shifted the delicate balance of her Very Independent world.

Another fermented berry slid down her throat with a loud gulp. How many had she consumed now? Not nearly enough. The world was growing a little fuzzy around the edges, but she could still hear her own thoughts, and they needed to go away. The distant sound of merriment filtered through the air all around her, a mishmash of excited voices and various cheering as the reception and accompanying feast were now well underway.

Aurelia had found a (reasonably) quiet place to collect herself. She'd secreted away a pelt full of fermented berries along with her, feeling a little boost would help her focus on the joyous event instead of her own tumultuous thoughts.

Reaching down, she scooped up another berry.

Any minute now and she'd be well enough to gently sway her way back toward the press of bodies.
]]> <![CDATA[well, legend has it]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12215 Wed, 17 Jun 2026 23:39:23 -0400 Eidola]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12215
The forest should have been familiar; every root, stone, and branch was part of Dawnbreak's territory. Eidola knew this path, she had walked it countless times before. The stream that wound through the trees was only a short distance away, its gentle murmur usually enough to soothe her restless thoughts. But right now everything was off, it brought her to a pause, ears swiveling. The water was speaking, not in words initially in murmurs, half formed sounds hidden beneath the current.

She swallowed, forcing her eyes shut. No.

The stream cannot speak. She repeated the thought carefully, the way one might place stones across a rushing river.

The stream cannot speak.

But when she opened her eyes again the sound carried on, a dozen voices drifting beneath the waters song, some laughed, others whispered secrets she couldn't quite understand, one was her mothers voice, another; Torgars.

Her heart lurched painfully. 'Eidola.' the voice came from behind her and she spun around to find nothing only the trees and the sunlight filtering through the leaves. It made her breath quicken, because the voice had been real it had been right beside her — hadn't it?

Slowly she lowered herself onto trembling haunches, trying to focus on things that were tangible, there was moss beneath her paws...and a cool breeze through her fur. But movement flickered on the edge of her vision, dark shapes slipping between the tree trunks, gone whenever she looked for them.

Eidola squeezed her eyes shut again.

No she whispered softly, pressing both forepaws against the earth as if she could anchor herself there. No. No. No. The shadows were not real, still another voice disagreed. They're watching you. The thought arrived fully formed, as though someone had leaned into her mind and spoken directly into it. They're waiting, they know.

'Eidola.'

The voice came again, bringing her to jerk her head upward and for a moment she saw someone among the trees, their comforting smile brought hope surging through her chest only for them to dissolve into sunlight and leaves. The realization struck like a blade, and a broken sound would rip through her throat as she folded inward curling tightly upon herself beneath the canopy.

—
]]>
The forest should have been familiar; every root, stone, and branch was part of Dawnbreak's territory. Eidola knew this path, she had walked it countless times before. The stream that wound through the trees was only a short distance away, its gentle murmur usually enough to soothe her restless thoughts. But right now everything was off, it brought her to a pause, ears swiveling. The water was speaking, not in words initially in murmurs, half formed sounds hidden beneath the current.

She swallowed, forcing her eyes shut. No.

The stream cannot speak. She repeated the thought carefully, the way one might place stones across a rushing river.

The stream cannot speak.

But when she opened her eyes again the sound carried on, a dozen voices drifting beneath the waters song, some laughed, others whispered secrets she couldn't quite understand, one was her mothers voice, another; Torgars.

Her heart lurched painfully. 'Eidola.' the voice came from behind her and she spun around to find nothing only the trees and the sunlight filtering through the leaves. It made her breath quicken, because the voice had been real it had been right beside her — hadn't it?

Slowly she lowered herself onto trembling haunches, trying to focus on things that were tangible, there was moss beneath her paws...and a cool breeze through her fur. But movement flickered on the edge of her vision, dark shapes slipping between the tree trunks, gone whenever she looked for them.

Eidola squeezed her eyes shut again.

No she whispered softly, pressing both forepaws against the earth as if she could anchor herself there. No. No. No. The shadows were not real, still another voice disagreed. They're watching you. The thought arrived fully formed, as though someone had leaned into her mind and spoken directly into it. They're waiting, they know.

'Eidola.'

The voice came again, bringing her to jerk her head upward and for a moment she saw someone among the trees, their comforting smile brought hope surging through her chest only for them to dissolve into sunlight and leaves. The realization struck like a blade, and a broken sound would rip through her throat as she folded inward curling tightly upon herself beneath the canopy.

—
]]> <![CDATA[sinner]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12206 Wed, 17 Jun 2026 21:52:19 -0400 Jas]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12206

When Jas' eyes snapped open, for a split second, all they could feel was pain.

Burning, searing, aching, sharp pain.

But, when they squeezed their eyes shut and opened their mouth to groan, it stopped. A remnant, perhaps, of the night before. Obviously he had pushed too far for his mortal body, and he'd passed out mid-ritual/sacrifice/experiment, whatever he wanted to call it. Even now, they could feel the old pain seep through the cracks, carving deliciously at his joints and flesh. The screams of her unfortunate victim rang in her ears not a moment later, sweet and tinny. Yes, that was a splendid idea. He should try it again sometime.

Suddenly cold, Jas gave a small shiver, blinking its eyes back open, actually taking in its surroundings.

How... strange. This was not the dark little hole they called home. Vast, white fields had replaced his familiar abode, almost as far as the eye could see. She shifted, kicking out with her back legs to get into a better position, only to feel fur tickling her toes. He whipped his head around, this time a little more alarmed, mismatched gaze falling onto-

His body.

Jas blinked. Then again, before shifting fully to face the sleeping form. Skinny, dark, with that same facial scar they'd been known by, but decidedly not him. How then, could she explain, why she could feel the cold of the snow, the bite of old pain, and the ache of her muscles? This was not an out of body experience; they'd had plenty of those, and never once had it felt like this. As if to confirm, he reached out a paw, and ran it over the wolf's flank, curious, taking in the soft, tidy pelt they had.

Was this some sort of weird wet dream?]]>

When Jas' eyes snapped open, for a split second, all they could feel was pain.

Burning, searing, aching, sharp pain.

But, when they squeezed their eyes shut and opened their mouth to groan, it stopped. A remnant, perhaps, of the night before. Obviously he had pushed too far for his mortal body, and he'd passed out mid-ritual/sacrifice/experiment, whatever he wanted to call it. Even now, they could feel the old pain seep through the cracks, carving deliciously at his joints and flesh. The screams of her unfortunate victim rang in her ears not a moment later, sweet and tinny. Yes, that was a splendid idea. He should try it again sometime.

Suddenly cold, Jas gave a small shiver, blinking its eyes back open, actually taking in its surroundings.

How... strange. This was not the dark little hole they called home. Vast, white fields had replaced his familiar abode, almost as far as the eye could see. She shifted, kicking out with her back legs to get into a better position, only to feel fur tickling her toes. He whipped his head around, this time a little more alarmed, mismatched gaze falling onto-

His body.

Jas blinked. Then again, before shifting fully to face the sleeping form. Skinny, dark, with that same facial scar they'd been known by, but decidedly not him. How then, could she explain, why she could feel the cold of the snow, the bite of old pain, and the ache of her muscles? This was not an out of body experience; they'd had plenty of those, and never once had it felt like this. As if to confirm, he reached out a paw, and ran it over the wolf's flank, curious, taking in the soft, tidy pelt they had.

Was this some sort of weird wet dream?]]> <![CDATA[little sparrow]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12203 Wed, 17 Jun 2026 01:58:40 -0400 Sarissa]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12203 [Image: 121029528_h6FgWvenFbng5UY.gif]
this evening set over a vast expanse of flourishing meadow of color, thick with tall grasses and shrubbery. Within a outcropping of small rocks and brush laid a young pup of almost pure obsidian with an eerie white mask.

her body was curled up tightly in a ball, an occasional twitch of her distinctly pointed ears every so often as the birds of the night sang from above.

the peaceful nap wasn't long lasted, with the chilling breeze of the north that would stir the young puppy with a grumpy whine - sluggish baby blue eyes attempting to take in their surroundings with foggy recognition.

Sarissa was usually surrounded by her littermates, flush together in a pile - annoying, sometimes, but warm and safe. mother was always near, Sarissa fondly remembering her plush pale coat and how she would press herself into it whenever she was near.

but now? her family was gone. their scent nowhere nearby, as if they had vanished completely. with anxiety and fear taking hold of the young pup, whimpers and cries would soon emit pitifully.
hope this is okay!! 🖤
]]> [Image: 121029528_h6FgWvenFbng5UY.gif]
this evening set over a vast expanse of flourishing meadow of color, thick with tall grasses and shrubbery. Within a outcropping of small rocks and brush laid a young pup of almost pure obsidian with an eerie white mask.

her body was curled up tightly in a ball, an occasional twitch of her distinctly pointed ears every so often as the birds of the night sang from above.

the peaceful nap wasn't long lasted, with the chilling breeze of the north that would stir the young puppy with a grumpy whine - sluggish baby blue eyes attempting to take in their surroundings with foggy recognition.

Sarissa was usually surrounded by her littermates, flush together in a pile - annoying, sometimes, but warm and safe. mother was always near, Sarissa fondly remembering her plush pale coat and how she would press herself into it whenever she was near.

but now? her family was gone. their scent nowhere nearby, as if they had vanished completely. with anxiety and fear taking hold of the young pup, whimpers and cries would soon emit pitifully.
hope this is okay!! 🖤
]]> <![CDATA[You gotta fight for your right to party]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12200 Tue, 16 Jun 2026 22:34:45 -0400 Fiora]]> https://vivariumrpg.com/showthread.php?tid=12200
Vaguely backdated to after the Dawnbreak wedding!

Now that her Aunties were healthy and she could return with a proper report for Elysium's standing for Sreda, Fiora was glad to hobble off from Dawnbreak after the festivities and make her own way. It occurred to her that perhaps she shouldn't be out and about on her own anymore, but, well... she'd never been cowed by regulations and societal norms. She was a good enough hunter by this point in her life that she could ambush hunt - there was nothing wrong with her jaws. She just had to be patient, and wait for something to pass close enough by that she could jump out. Her hind legs, they could hold her weight, but it was hard to pounce.
She rather thought she must look like an awkward little frog flopping about when she fell upon prey, but a full belly was a full belly!

What she didn't anticipate was other predators.

Fiora could hear the river rushing nearby, but fog concealed its exact whereabouts. She simply knew she was going in the right direction by the way she listened to the way the water flowed, and when the ground beneath her turned rocky, she would know she was close! She wouldn't dare climb the mountain, weak as her hind legs were, but she could get as near as possible and wait out the fog, she thought.

The fog also concealed much of the scents around her, which was a bit more unnerving when distant whoops told of coyotes.

It wasn't until it was too late she realized the calls weren't just to one side, and it was not some other beast they were circling.

It was the hurt, lone wolf, stinking of berries and carrying the leg of a deer she'd scavenged from a recent kill.

Fiora picked up her pace, hoping to lope on ahead, but even if she were fast enough she was already circled. A small, tawny figure streaked past her with a snap of jaws quite suddenly through the mist, and the clay-painted woman gave a muffled yelp of surprise around the bone in her jaws. Anger flashed hot, keeping her from dropping the meal; she didn't need it, persay, but carrying food with her saved energy, saved time, saved effort.

She careened to the side and tried to outrun it.

Another flashed from her haunch and tried to latch on, and Fiora stumbled out of the way, a snarl growing in her chest. Her hips pinched, a ripple of pain going down right to her tail, but she tried to run faster as several more bays echoed around her.
One figure lunged forward and snatched the end of the leg in its jaws and the jolt of her head yanking to the side sent her tumbling into the earth. Still, she gritted her jaws and held on tight even as the breath whooshed from her lungs on impact.]]>
Vaguely backdated to after the Dawnbreak wedding!

Now that her Aunties were healthy and she could return with a proper report for Elysium's standing for Sreda, Fiora was glad to hobble off from Dawnbreak after the festivities and make her own way. It occurred to her that perhaps she shouldn't be out and about on her own anymore, but, well... she'd never been cowed by regulations and societal norms. She was a good enough hunter by this point in her life that she could ambush hunt - there was nothing wrong with her jaws. She just had to be patient, and wait for something to pass close enough by that she could jump out. Her hind legs, they could hold her weight, but it was hard to pounce.
She rather thought she must look like an awkward little frog flopping about when she fell upon prey, but a full belly was a full belly!

What she didn't anticipate was other predators.

Fiora could hear the river rushing nearby, but fog concealed its exact whereabouts. She simply knew she was going in the right direction by the way she listened to the way the water flowed, and when the ground beneath her turned rocky, she would know she was close! She wouldn't dare climb the mountain, weak as her hind legs were, but she could get as near as possible and wait out the fog, she thought.

The fog also concealed much of the scents around her, which was a bit more unnerving when distant whoops told of coyotes.

It wasn't until it was too late she realized the calls weren't just to one side, and it was not some other beast they were circling.

It was the hurt, lone wolf, stinking of berries and carrying the leg of a deer she'd scavenged from a recent kill.

Fiora picked up her pace, hoping to lope on ahead, but even if she were fast enough she was already circled. A small, tawny figure streaked past her with a snap of jaws quite suddenly through the mist, and the clay-painted woman gave a muffled yelp of surprise around the bone in her jaws. Anger flashed hot, keeping her from dropping the meal; she didn't need it, persay, but carrying food with her saved energy, saved time, saved effort.

She careened to the side and tried to outrun it.

Another flashed from her haunch and tried to latch on, and Fiora stumbled out of the way, a snarl growing in her chest. Her hips pinched, a ripple of pain going down right to her tail, but she tried to run faster as several more bays echoed around her.
One figure lunged forward and snatched the end of the leg in its jaws and the jolt of her head yanking to the side sent her tumbling into the earth. Still, she gritted her jaws and held on tight even as the breath whooshed from her lungs on impact.]]>