The words are different. No one else has essentially given her permission to feel the way she does - they've only sought for her to be strong. (And in her darkest moments, in the middle of the night when she's awake from another nightmare, she can't help but wonder if their seeking her strength comes only from selfishness, so that they no longer have to be strong themselves.) Yet, here is Haurchefant, doing exactly that: allowing her to feel the weakness, while reminding her that she has that strength inside her.

If she were less emotionally compromised, she'd probably recognize the stroke of his fingers across her skin, but as it is, the suddenly blurriness in her eyes mortifies her, distracts her enough that for a moment it's all she knows. The hand not tied up in his reaches up to her face as she turns her head to the side, trying to swallow back the sudden wash of tears.

"I..." Her voice cracks, and Y'tajha shakes her head, wetting her lips and trying again. "Thank you. I truly needed to hear those words."