Talk about anything you like, with keeping the rules in mind, no doubt.

Sub-board: Identity Crisis

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Sub-board: Pending Directory

Whether it's stories, poems, spaztastic pictures, chalk art, jokes, or a brilliant creative something that you'd couldn't stop yourself from sharing, post it here. Includes a Request Board.

Sub-board: In Demand

Loghouse is far from sight, so stop looking back, foolish dog. Indeed, only the foolish roam to these arctic tundras, north of the hated civilization. Some say spirits roam here, some say the simple emptiness will drive a dog crazy, perhaps more logically, some declare one will die of starvation out here. I'd go back, silly dog.

Forest! Perhaps as rare as happiness in this land, the majestic trees east of Loghouse wait in the distance, a insignificant smudge of green on the horizon. Prey may be found here, as can shelter - seems like paradise, no? Keep in mind - looks can be decieving.

Given up? I see. Alas, if you can no longer bear the greed of man and ferocity of dog, perhaps the kindly, bleeding heart of the Bartender will pity you, and he will take you in, adding you to his collection of healthy, gentle dogs. But beware! Step out onto the streets and prepare, 'cuz dogs here don't like weaklings like you. The tavern is a little ways from Loghouse, up the hill, but still in sight.

If it wasn't for the barn, who knows who would survive the harsh, spiteful climate of the Canadian North? The ancient, run-down barn (resembling a maze inside) houses much of the canine population of Loghouse, like a den split into many, many sections. A great tragedy of some sort once shook the place, and the results show to this day - a few mere scraps of metal provide a roof, while fallen walls, lofts, and so forth cut the massive innards into many little hide-aways for dogs. Or, at least, some get their own private quarters - many are thrown into a large room, until they are permitted by a Lead Dog, or fight for one of their own. Perhaps it is time to take the risk, however - one is far less respected if he or she sleeps in the 'trash-hole'.

Lead Bitch: Vayge; Sled Alpha: None; Forerunner: None

Moderator: Rit

Sub-board: Morose Little Shed

Lead Dog: Brutice; Sled Alpha: None; Forerunner: None

Moderator: Brutice *~Midas~*

Sub-board: Eastern Barracks

The orange mile-markers can barely be seen through the density of the forest. This is the most trecherous, grueling part of the path. There's ice, snowstorms, fallen trees, predators, tumbling rocks, avalanches, and hypothermia. The hills are always at an incline; it's exhausting to haul the fat-ass and his sled all the way through the mountains. But somehow at least two of the teams can pull through it to the end. Don't wander off alone...