Ankyra Sound a bruise upon the silent moon

@Rosalyn to post first for a few rounds and then i'll tag in the babes & dad<3

erzulie had not spoken with vaati, but somehow beneath his reign, rusalka had calmed, smoothed. for that she was grateful. her days had begun to blend together, whispering loving words to her wife as she sought to mend their bond, gathering material for the den, laying by stores of herbs.
in the evening of the previous day, her trials had begun as she searched for oysters in the shallows, and dazed by the pain, erzulie had not immediately gone to tell anyone. the harlot continued her task as long as she was able, soon abandoning the sea-flesh altogether to pace the shoreline, pausing every so often as a wave of crushing agony tightened every muscle.
they had stopped before nightfall, but erzulie's new-minted maternal instincts told her they would return. and as the moon rose above the silent darkness of the sea, she woke from a fitful slumber with a gasp, jerking against rosalyn's curled form. "de little ones" was all she could manage before the shattering anguish had returned, wringing a cry from her throat that echoed out along the strand.

Rosalyn was sleeping fitfully when Erzulie's jerked movement woke her up.  She rolled to her side and lifted her head immediately, preparing to lurch to her feet if need be.

Anxious panic lit into her as she watched her wife's tense expression, and she felt an echo of the pain clench at her own spine, though she ignored it.  It looked like agony, but she could not do anything to help.

What do you need? She asked, her voice tight with worry as Erzulie cried out.  If she was able to answer, she'd bring her anything she needed, but first Rosalyn rose and staggered towards the den's mouth.  Once there, she howled a summons, recalling what @Caiaphas had spoken so many weeks ago.  She'd promised help through this process, and if anything went wrong, she perhaps would know better what to do.

a cameo <3 PP me so i dont hold anything up <3 <3

it was time.

drawn to the duo's den by rosalyn's howl, caiaphas fretted outside it. from within the heady scent of before-birth lingered -- she could taste the metallic hint of something else too -- perhaps fear.

"i am here," the siren growled from the moonlit entrance, paring a slim branch from the bundle she had carried. withered as they were, perhaps the raspberry leaves would be of some use -- she nudged it under the shadowed mouth, casting her gaze seaward as she waited for erzulie's true crucible to begin.

oop shadowposted; edited

her lips trembled; erzulie stared hard at the night outside their den, feverishly shaking her head. nothing, nothing; there was nothing rosalyn could do, or bring her. not even the poppyseed, for that would be dangerous to the children, she knew. her breaths came faster, tighter; the harlot grit her teeth and wailed again, stunned at her own weakness. 
pressing toward the farthest wall of the shelter, she huddled in the scent of sea and loam and lay down, stretching herself against the cool earth for whatever bit of comfort she could find there. would caiaphas come? whatever knowledge of plants the old witch did or did not have mattered little to erzulie; she was a mother. she should be here. still, she did not notice when the seawolf did arrive, so taken as she was with her agonies.
a throbbing pain, dull, pressing, radiating through her hips as her body began to move the first of her pups down against the bones of her pelvis, through and through and through and erzulie ceased to know where the edges of her flesh began and where they ended.

Nothing - she could do nothing.  Caiaphas arrived quickly, and as she did Rosalyn backed against the wall, remaining inside but giving Erzulie space to do what she needed.  Something told her that remaining close would only hinder.  She watched her cry out and felt the stirring of panic ignite in her throat, making it hard for her to breathe.  

As she did, the ache that had started as a clench became a spike, burying itself into her and causing her to close her eyes.  Not now.  Fuck, not now.. It was too soon, and she couldn't.... 

She tried to calm herself but the panic wouldn't abate.  So she stayed where she was and focused only on the sound of Erzulie's struggle as she attempted to ground herself against the earth at her back.  For the thousandth time, she wanted to scream - this was a mistake.  She wasn't ready.

caiaphas was there when erzulie returned briefly to the world, and the harlot chewed weakly at the raspberry leaves for the relief they would grant. she cast her gaze around the den, searching for rosalyn; mismatched eyes narrowed in scrutiny and then some primal knowing, followed by a stinging guilt that she had brought this upon her wife.
"rosalyn," erzulie whispered faintly, hoping to gain her wife's attention, to focus the pirate's eyes upon her own. before more words could come, the pain arrived again, and she lay back, grinding her teeth helplessly. somehow, she knew he must be here for this, to aid caiaphas in some way. and while she knew this was the realm of women and would only terrify him, rosalyn could not be left alone. the sensation of her wife's silent panic rose in the den, forcing her head upward as she gazed at the corsair, willing her to fight no more, as erzulie had fully surrendered.

She needed to calm down, if not for her own sake then for theirs.  As if she knew, Rosalyn heard her name, and she opened her eyes to find Erzulie's gaze locked with her own.

It was too soon.  Her body had felt wrong for weeks, and she couldn't have that wrongness here, not while Erzulie brought their children into the world.  She stood, but then a contraction hit and her teeth clenched together, expelling a hissing groan.

It seems their children were fated to be tied by more than even blood.

She forgot Caiaphas was there for a moment, and through the terror something in her body began to take over.  She kept her eyes on Erzulie, even if the other looked away.  She couldn't stop this from happening, but she could try to be stronger.  Another wave of pain, and she trembled, gritting her teeth as she slid down to a lying position.  If her mother had managed this, surely she could too.  And surely Erzulie would be fine as well.

tagging everyone in <3 as a surprise, there is no mandatory death roll for this litter; it is optional instead :3 no posting order regardless of tags

motherhood would come to them both today; erzulie was both stunned and elated. but moreso was her fear, for it was not quite rosalyn's time. as her wife too sank down against the denfloor, the harlot turned a gaze that attempted to be strong upon caiaphas, but the tremour of her voice gave the woman away. "please call @Firefly," she whispered, knowing that despite the witch's misgivings, she would not deny this of the jezebel.
when the older woman had unleashed her voice into the night, erzulie struggled closer to rosalyn, swallowing the nausea that built from moving too quickly. and though she wanted again to speak, her spiced features contorted with anguish as the squeezing pangs began to crush her again, more swiftly this time.
it was not long before the den filled with the scent of birth and blood, and a pale body tipped in gold emerged between her thighs. confounded, erzulie stared at it for a moment, before instinct took hold and led her to clean the child, a male pup. guiding him to her breast, she was unable to keep her eyes from the tiny movements. "@Scarab," she whispered, glancing to rosalyn to measure the progression of her wife's own labour.
another series of pains, a few cries broken from her exhausted throat, and a dark-headed child was brought forth. erzulie panted as she cleansed the sodden fur and moved this daughter alongside the first. "@Marisol," came her barely audible voice; again she looked to the pirate, seeing there the pain writ on the other's face. and her own came again, helplessness rising in erzulie as she ground her cheek against the dirt and delivered a third child. another daughter, paler than her brother had been. on her heels, between agonies that rippled along their mother's flank, a fourth, a golden bundle that named itself sister to the other three.
"@Clementine. @Nieve," erzulie murmured, all but broken, too weary to lick clean the last two. caiaphas appeared then, looming o'erhead, and though the harlot had closed her eyes, the pull of two more mouths at her belly told her that the witch had aided her in this. a few breaths; she lifted her head to look at rosalyn, to glance 'round for firefly, though her tongue was too weak to move even in a soft moan.

Rosalyn hadn't thought herself a stranger to pain, but she'd never known it like this.  At first she bit back her cries as the tremors wracked her narrow frame, but when the first child came forth, she couldn't stop the scream that burst from her throat.

The fact that she'd known made the blow easier.... there was no surprise as she looked upon the lifeless child.  But she wasn't done.

Two more came before she was too spent to continue, her sides heaving with the effort as she lay slack.  Both too were still, and the third had taken its time.  The contractions weren't over, but she had a momentary reprieve as her body recovered, and tears pricked at her eyes as she heard the noises from Erzulie's flank.   She lifted her head to look.... and uttered a soft groan as she curled inward again, cursing both Firefly and herself.

Two more.  By the end she wasn't aware of much, and if Firefly arrived, either he or Caiaphas would likely need to assist her as well.  Because of those two... one did move.  The shifts she'd thought to be her own imagination had been the stirrings of a single life too determined to be stilled, one that when she woke she would know as @Reyes.

The howl erupted from the beach where he knew the women camped. He had anticipated this moment — the entirety of Rusalka had — and Firefly imagined all the feelings he'd experience leading up to meeting the children he had helped to create; the imagined awe, the fear of becoming a parent, the utter terror in regard to Rosalyn and Erzulie as they struggled. He stopped what he was doing and looked to the sea, expecting emotion to hit him like the undulating tide, but there was... Nothing. An emptiness. A void that surprised him more than the panic in the fading call.

He took his time to reach them. Each moment that passed felt longer than the last, each stride heavier. He got partway there and spied the dark-capped figure of Caiaphas attending — and that's when it all hit home for him. Rosalyn had protested against his involvement and did not want him there. Erzulie was the one he coveted and by proxy, the children she brought earth-side. However, the longer he sat there and the more he absorbed, the more Firefly came to fear his own involvement. He thought of the fight between himself and Rosalyn — of her shedding of her rank, the words he threw at her so vehemently — but he knew it had been something else, something displaced.

They were struggling and birthing these children while the father stood frozen, realizing that it was his own fear that had grown in to an insurmountable obstacle.

He turned, and he ran.

the sylph assisted where she was able or allowed, her falcon yellow eyes flitting from dam to dam as they fought to bring new life into the world. if there was any higher order, it surely had a sense of humor -- for both became mothers that night.

the crone's attention flitted from the small miracles erzulie and rosalyn had whelped to the entrance; a shade had briefly darkened their doorstep, and just as quickly stole away. in the siren a sense of furor kindled -- coward, she thought -- in spry steps the siren was across the door and watching his receding form with burning contempt.

she spat into the sand with rueful vigor, biting her tongue despite the wish to cast his name to hell -- either he would come back, or he wouldn't. as shameful as firefly's leaving was, the grim reality was neither rosalyn nor erzulie truly needed him. he had done his part. she did not speak of his betrayal, knowing it would darken a room that needed no misery introduced to it.

stepping back into the den, now crowded with several lives, caiaphas' features broke into a haggard grin. "five new whelps to strengthen rusalka. you two should be proud. rest, and i will keep guard outside."

there had always been awareness. it was it in the simplest form of the word, a base-level knowledge that it existed, fragile and small as that might be. it wasn't really life yet, exactly - but it had grown and changed and come as close to it was it would within the womb. and then there came pressure and a sudden pull into a world she was not ready for—and yet, were any? this was life, the first breath of air in her lungs, the kick of her limbs, the sudden awareness of touch and instinct and discomfort. she latched onto a teat and found next comfort, and while her birth was simple and silent, she was soon asleep at her mother's stomach. it took a great deal of energy to jump from the precipice that was existence and begin the free-fall that was life. 

tired phone post of marisol puptato

 

her world was a simple. it was warm, it was safe. even if she did not know or understand the feeling of safety. she was not alone either, she did know that. she only knew them as the others, she liked them. they moved in time with her, she stretched and found comfort in the feeling of them but it was becoming crowded as she and the others grew. then, there was another feeling. something different, something foreign. a push, a pull to.. where?

something was wrong, one of the others was missing. the dark girl could move more freely but this was not right, then it happened. she was pulled just like the missing other, she was now somewhere that was not warm and a strange feeling came as she opened her tiny lips. she did not know she was, in fact, making sound. a squeak, a tiny grunting sound to show the displeasure of this new world that was cold and wet. well, until a warm tongue licked along her little body.

that was nice.

then she was moved, woah, but it wasn't unpleasant. instead it was the opposite, her tiny nose wiggled as she was pressing against her mothers belly. she did not latch on at first, she pressed at the small being beside her and gave a soft puppy squeak. she had found the missing other! it was then she latches onto her mother's nipple and was greeted with the most wonderful taste. oh my. she ate greedily, only pausing when another other joined. pressing her nose to them before returning to her meal.

this was nice, was all she thought as she drifted off into a world of dreams. warm, safe, content.

life at this point was not something the young cub would remember, aware only when it was happening; but it was life and it was contenting. there was an abundance of everything he needed: nutrients that aided in his growth and kept him alive, warmth. there were times, when he'd stretch, that he grew aware that the space was no solely his own and in time the lotusland of his revered mother's womb began to grow too cramped and the pale sand prince's time there was running short. as her body wracked with painful contractions, his world quakes around him and there is an uncomfortable pressure upon his body as he is birthed.

all at once the pressure is gone and he is still, feeling the distinct loss of the lotusland's warmth, of his siblings presence. this new place is hard and cold. fill your lungs with the breath of life, as erzulie cleans him of his birthing sac he draws in a first breath and the others follow naturally, each more satisfying than the last. the run of her tongue over his small body is soothing and the warmth of her breast as he is guided to his next source of life is comforting.

scarab, a symbol of creation. scarab, as he would eventually come to learn is his name, pokes around at erzulie's fur, gaping mouthfuls of it in his search. when he finds a teat, he latches on without preamble and begins to suckle until he inadvertently falls asleep, rousing for only moments as his siblings are born and are nudged in their places beside him.

It was a cruelty beyond measure to push the water-spirit from the womb into a world that seemed, in comparison, dry as a bone. She enjoyed a few seconds more of quiet bliss before the sac was pierced and she took in a breath—and began to wail. Her legs churned wildly, finding only air to resist them and not the familiar press of the sea. Though it still was dark and silent as the depths of the ocean, it felt different, and that was panic enough for her.

Even as she was placed against her mother's belly and she found a teat to suckle, she still was traumatized by the events of today. What was once an idyllic life amidst the amniotic fluid was over. Now she had to grapple with this new reality, so foreign and frightening and terribly dry.

And the girl whose earthly lives ranged from prehistoric protozoan to fearsome plesiosaur, from dolphin to whale to kelpie and mermaid, things about which Odysseus had written and around which fantasies had been crafted. . . She was now terra-bound, fur-cloaked, lupine. A wolf named Nieve.

Only time would tell how this, exactly, would pan out for the sea sprite.

last from me! sorry to stall this <3

she knew between her own pains that rosalyn brought forth sleeping children, and her heart broke for her wife. the pirate toiled in a tense world away from her, and firefly did not come. in spite of the four mouths pulling greedily at her belly, a sudden and stark loneliness blossomed coldly over the she-wolf, and as she lowered her muzzle to inspect each of her children again, tears sprang to her eyes.
caiaphas was a constant, a stalwart and brisk presence that watched over both she-wolves until it was over, and at the sound of a new, tiny cry, erzulie lifted her head with a start to look at the ruddy bundle gathered next to rosalyn. a fifth pup, perhaps smaller than her own, but no less strong. her words would not come — she merely lay a gentle gaze upon her lover as the seawitch spoke. 
shifting as close to rosalyn as she dared without disturbing the pups heaped beside her, the harlot looked toward the entrance of the den for firefly, but only once before exhaustion overtook her and she sought sleep.