Ankyra Sound the brink of war as my judge and jury

tagging @Rosalyn @Nieve @Scarab @Raleska @Aningan for visibility

hobbling from the grotto, erzulie stood upon the warm sand and blinked into the blaze of daylight. her wounds had been healing all the while, and though she still remained weak, the harlot was grateful she continued to draw breath.
she would bear lasting scars from her time here in the sound, erzulie mused grimly; first from the war, and now from coyotes. their leader was a shiftless, absent fellow, his beta a hotheaded child. rusalka would shift leadership again before a moon had finished, of that much she was sure.
and caiaphas had never returned.
erzulie was silent, settling herself down and letting grim contemplations fill her mind.

couldnt resist

The children were growing swiftly and spent less and less time hovering about home.  Rosalyn kept tabs on where they went, but as they mingled and learned from the pack, she knew they would likely find their own ways and depend less and less on both she and Erzulie.  It was a conflicting emotion.

She was, conversely, a ghost lately.  She spoke to few and paid attention to only those needed, and slowly her packmates were becoming more and more strangers to her.  She could not even say, right now, who remained and who was gone.

This was okay; only one constant mattered.

She passed over the ridge and approached the grotto, and her eyes left the sea to light on Erzulie seated near the entrance.  Share the shade? She asked, smiling some as she came.  It was hot and she was tired, for the moment, of walking in circles.  Most of the prey seemed to have the same idea, hiding in darkness for the moment.

rosalyn. so long had the pirate been her companion that erzulie could scarce remember a time when her life had not contained the woman. rusalka might well fall, their children would one day seek their own fares, but rosalyn
she lay her muzzle upon her wife’s shoulder, smiling fondly into the much-beloved features, and the sigh that broke from her throat drove out the barbed feelings, for the present.
”it has been a long time since we were alone,” erzulie remarked, eyes drifting closed for a small moment.

It truly had.  Children did not make things worse, but they did make things harder.  So much of their time had been shared five ways that it was hard to remember the last they'd sat like this, alone.  

It has.  Confirming it aloud, though, she smiled.  It reminded her suddenly of their place in the bay, isolated by the cliffs, where many of their early moments had begun.  It has been quiet.

Not necessarily in a favorable way, but silence was better than angry packs assaulting their borders.  Caiaphas and now her family were gone, Raleska's departure felt with some measure of irritation and regret, but you could not deny that the grotto slept while the witch was departed.

"i fought for dis place," erzulie mused grimly, looking out upon the beautiful emptiness of the shoreline that spread before them. "how many times has it passed from han' to han? an' caiaphas, she will never come back," the harlot spat.  "i fought for de wron' t'ing."
sorrow lanced through her; guilt skewered the jezebel's chai-tea heart, and she swallowed the rush of angry tears as she looked to her wife. "if we left, where would you be wantin' to go?" for surely rosalyn wanted to depart. she had always longed for that.

Her heart broke for her as Erzulie spoke, sounding so bitter.  She was soft for this in a way she was not even for their children, but she waited, listening as she cursed her own defense of this place.  Months ago, Rosalyn might have felt in some way vindicated, but at present she was too tired.  Besides, surprisingly, this wasn't what she had wanted either.

You fought for them, they fought for me, and you deserved this place. She said, unusually carefully.  My place was Ironsea.  Since then, nothing but you has felt right.  And at times, not even they had been the same.  But the tests had only made them stronger, she thought.  You weren't wrong for trying to have this.

For a while she had certainly resented being forced to stay when she so wanted to leave.  But in the end, she knew, she could have left.  Leaving would have been her choice, just as staying had been her wife's.  She'd chosen Erzulie, and there was no regret there either.

I don't know.  She'd stopped considering it, honestly.  Even as the pack disappeared around them, she hadn't thought they would leave.  Was there anywhere she wanted particularly to go?  She fell silent, considering that.  It wasn't that she didn't want to leave.  She just wondered if there was a place out there that would hold more for them, and how they might find it.

i don't know, and nor did erzulie. the idea of dragging their brood up and down the coastline, looking for a place that appealed to she and her wife — it was a selfish image, and not one toward which the harlot was inclined. she was silent again. ironsea had been the only home for them. ruined first by smokestep, then the bear.
she sighed against rosalyn; she swallowed and swayed to her feet. "come wid me to de water," she offered. "it has always called to us before."
they could not be happy here, but erzulie would be damned if the pair would wallow, and led her beloved to the brine that kissed rusalka's shores. there despite her pain they basked for some time, finding a place for smiles that glowed with the light of a sun falling to earth.