"We're lost in time" was not a sentence either of them knew how to act on, so they did what they knew how to do instead, which was survive the next six hours and worry about the rest afterward.
"Shelter first," Sekar said, already moving. "Then water. Then we think."
Rama didn't argue. He'd learned, across seven years of crisis after crisis, that Sekar's order of operations was almost always correct, and that arguing with it cost more time than it saved. He shifted their daughter higher against his hip and followed her voice through the dark, one hand out in front of him to catch branches before they caught his face.
