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“What did you dream about?' Nesta's body locked up, but she launched back into motion, refusing to let the memories master her. 'I dreamed of the Cauldron. What it did to me.' Gwyn said, playing with her hair, 'I dream of my past, too.' But Gwyn's admission, Nesta's own, didn't weigh them down. Nesta's head had cleared slightly. And somehow, she found she could push herself harder. Perhaps in voicing those truths, they'd given them wings. And sent them soaring into the open sky above.” — Sarah J. Maas
What did you dream about?'
Nesta's body locked up, but she launched back into motion, refusing to let the memories master her. 'I dreamed of the Cauldron. What it did to me.'
Gwyn said, playing with her hair, 'I dream of my past, too.'
But Gwyn's admission, Nesta's own, didn't weigh them down. Nesta's head had cleared slightly. And somehow, she found she could push herself harder.
Perhaps in voicing those truths, they'd given them wings. And sent them soaring into the open sky above.