(Untitled)

[reflectedingly]

[Mulan is back. In a sense.]

[Her hair, still messily cut short, is in disarray, hanging in her face. Her robes are pale blue, mimicking a burial shroud, but it's hard to see the color underneath all the blood on them. She doesn't look angry so much as hurt.]

After what they did to my body, you couldn't even give it a place to rest?

Comments

[manryedingly]

...

[Oh, great. You set him off in guiltmode again]

[reflectedingly]

[Oops.]

Oh, now you care what becomes of me?

[manryedingly]

[Quietly] You were one of my best soldiers.

Of course I care.

[reflectedingly]

I can't be a soldier. Remember? I'm a woman.

Or I was.