Ankyra Sound a bruise upon the silent moon

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.