This isn’t trash. POV from Dayline Book 3.
“The Healer walked out, slowly, her footsteps silent on the golden light of morning. He lay back on the linens, fresh, redolent of sun and wind and green, growing things. There was not much more he could do, and her words had shown him just how lacking he was. Not only in strength, but in Light. Pale, shaking fingers brushed the vibrant skin work that spiraled up his arm, over the characters etched with her Light, the ones that had shaken her to the quick. Hope. Dream. Peace. Protection. Love. – Love. That last which she had given him meaning for. He had not known love in all the days of his captivity. Pale green eyes blinked away the thoughts that threatened to tumble forth. There was so much that needed to be completed and no time in which to do so. The chill winter air rasped in his lungs. He did not know how he could achieve all he had need of, but perhaps he could start by following her instruction, and rest. And in resting, perhaps he could allow himself to dream.”
Writey Time Theater 