The shelter, in which their vulnerable existence was hidden for fear of any detriment from the external world, has become a gigantic mass, a meandrous tendril, a horrendous strait.

The smoke in the boundary of the firmament is the ominous inauspiciousness of an imminent peril, an ascensive jeopardy.

It was the time for making a decision, choosing between setting foot in ambiguity, hazard and the outer world’s possibilities, or staying in the strait of the shelter, which is not safe anymore.