Ankyra Sound a bruise upon the silent moon

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.