She reached for one of her older, neglected robes her sister had once made for her: this one was black with a gold sash around the waist. Slipping it on, she checked herself in a full-height mirror, ensuring she was tucked in and decent. She straightened her hair then fluffed it out before going to the door.
Her mother had retrofitted it with slots to drop a heavy beam of wood into, allowing Ana to brace it from the inside. When locked, it could only be entered via teleportation. It was the safest teleport entrance to the whole house and they couldn't chance any of the younger children running in at the wrong time and being spontaneously spliced with their older sister to the mutilation, irredeemable torment and probable death of them both.
She lifted the lock with a grunt then opened the door, out to the familiar stairwell. "ANASTASIA'S ROOM! KEEP OUT. RISK OF DEATH." the exterior door read in months old red paint. She closed it behind her then went to the stairs, taking a grip on the railing for steadiness.
Ever since her mother told what had happened in the moments after they first met, she couldn't ascend or descend the stairs of her childhood home without imagining her carrying her brother Joseph on her back and knotted in her rear, up all five floors to Zarron's bedchambers.
The oldest sister of the newer rescuees slept there now, blissfully unaware that her mother and a son she'd never met had sex on her bed. It was only fair to give her the best room, as she'd fallen into the role of Mother to the rest of them or at least, the responsible one around the house while their actual mother and her were off on their missions.
Constance was her name. Being crossbred with a raccoon gave her unique fur patterns more than distinctive features. She could pass for an odd-colored or dyed fox but astute eyes might notice her muzzle was more blunt with ears shorter and more triangular. Not much younger than Anastasia, they found her working in a Clerk's office in the city of White Port, safe, sound but doomed to a lifetime of boredom.
Even without a tragic situation to escape from or any adventuring-relevant skills, Constance was compelled by the story of their family and jumped at the chance to be part of something bigger. She maintained that it was the right decision, though with less confidence after three months of babysitting the ever-growing household.
"I feel like I'm doing more mothering than our mother!" she would half-joke but it was hard to argue against.