Two Rivers Isle asked what had happened this time

erzulie's ears fell backward. she had known? had she? had she not? why else would niamh have mentioned him? but truly, she did not, and the implications of it traveled downward with her splayed auds. but it was a formidable seize of surprise that drove now the nail of her interest.
"your brot'er." she studied niamh with a new solemn interest, noting yes, the gold that was in nieve, the coloration that seemed similar to that which the man had once borne. erzulie did not like to think of him, even now, but the moment demanded the contemplation. "so we be family, den," came her wry rejoinder.
it sufficed to be seen that neither the harlot nor the firebird cared a great deal for this arrangement. she too had taken a seat, curling plume over forepaws. "he gave us five children," erzulie opted to say after another pregnant silence had passed. "nieve, reyes, scarab, marisol, and clementine. she stays in rusalka. de ot'ers have dispersed. sought dere own way mont's ago." 
and it ached. niamh was old enough now to be mother again, though enjoyed the privilege of a younger age. it showed in her careful features, her carriage, the slim-limbed elegance. "i am sorry you know his end," the jezebel muttered, perhaps with a minute amount more softness than before. "i wish dere was more to tell."