Tumbling down

You gotta have the patience and believe you're gonna make it
Gotta hold on

Staring her son down was less effective than she would have hoped. Erthë gritted her teeth against the urge to lecture the brat about doing as he was told - it would hardly work anyway, and this was not the time. But his question, childishly unveiled and startling in its bluntness, made both her and the younger girl uncomfortable. Seeing the helplessly confused look Otem sent her way she gave the boy a sharp nip on the withers, heard his squeal of protest with some satisfaction - it hadn't been that sharp, thank you - but could not do much else to comfort the other.

In fact, the query made her want to fall on her knees and weep.

"This place is not our home" she said sharply, addressing both the children with a harsh jerk of the neck that threw her flame-laced locks back over the shoulder. "A home is a place where you are safe and sheltered, a haven for heart and soul and the place to which you long to return. Every second spent on this side of the Portal is a moment of exile for us all."

Even for you, she thought as she looked down at her son. Perhaps especially for him, for he would never have the memories she possessed, the awareness of what a fertile world overflowing with light and peace was like. Van and Alvah had been born in the Rift, and not a moment passed that Erthë did not weep for their fate and the dark future that awaited them.

I know you're tired of surviving but you gotta keep on trying
Hold on!

@Otem