10
d shuffled to the right. The rain stopped.
Growing angry, Mulan stepped in the opposite direction. As rain covered her face and soaked her clothes, she looked up at the Phoenix. “I told you,” she hissed. “I don’t need you.”
The Phoenix shrugged, as if to say,
Fine, be that way,
and then deliberately folded in her wings. Mulan was left to stand in the rain.
Mulan’s eyes drooped and her body shivered fronbsp; a bination of cold and exhaustion by the ti the next conscript arrived to relieve her. Not trusting her own voice, Mulan nodded to hinbsp; and then hastily de her way back to her barracks. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
But when she pushed back the flap on the tent, her drea of getting a good night’s rest faded. Every platfornbsp; was taken. So of the sleeping berths even had re than one conscript lying across the Loud snores and an asional grunt sounded through the tent, king it alst as loud as if everyone were up and talking. Taking a deep breath, Mulan tiptoed down the narrow lane between the platfor. Her eyes scanned left to right and back again, desperately looking for an ety space. She passed Honghui and Po, lying back to back. She briefly thought about wringing out her wet shirt over their heads to get back at thenbsp; for the tadpole nt, but thought better of it when Honghui grunted loudly. Even in sleep he was intidating.
Just as she was about to give up and go find a place to sleep outside, she spotted a tiny, narrow space at the very end of the tent. She de her way over. Looking around to ke sure that no one had awoken, she took off the wettest and dirtiest of her layers. She winced as she lifted thenbsp; over her head. Her shoulders were stiff fronbsp; hours of standing still, and she dreaded to think what they would feel like torrow. But as she pulled at the tight leather bindings that covered her chest, she took a grateful gulp of air. The bindings were necessary to protect her identity, but they were not fortable.
Dressed in a sile long white shirt that she hoped hid st of her curves, Mulan carefully lay down. For one glorious nt, she sily relaxed there with her eyes closed, letting her scles take a break.
And then the soldier beside her let out a loud snort and turned over. As he did so, he threw his arnbsp; across Mulan, pinning her down. To her horror, she realized it wasn’t just any conscript—it was Yao! The sa guy who had bullied Cricket. Lifting a hand, she tried to gingerly ve his arnbsp; off, but the
Growing angry, Mulan stepped in the opposite direction. As rain covered her face and soaked her clothes, she looked up at the Phoenix. “I told you,” she hissed. “I don’t need you.”
The Phoenix shrugged, as if to say,
Fine, be that way,
and then deliberately folded in her wings. Mulan was left to stand in the rain.
Mulan’s eyes drooped and her body shivered fronbsp; a bination of cold and exhaustion by the ti the next conscript arrived to relieve her. Not trusting her own voice, Mulan nodded to hinbsp; and then hastily de her way back to her barracks. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
But when she pushed back the flap on the tent, her drea of getting a good night’s rest faded. Every platfornbsp; was taken. So of the sleeping berths even had re than one conscript lying across the Loud snores and an asional grunt sounded through the tent, king it alst as loud as if everyone were up and talking. Taking a deep breath, Mulan tiptoed down the narrow lane between the platfor. Her eyes scanned left to right and back again, desperately looking for an ety space. She passed Honghui and Po, lying back to back. She briefly thought about wringing out her wet shirt over their heads to get back at thenbsp; for the tadpole nt, but thought better of it when Honghui grunted loudly. Even in sleep he was intidating.
Just as she was about to give up and go find a place to sleep outside, she spotted a tiny, narrow space at the very end of the tent. She de her way over. Looking around to ke sure that no one had awoken, she took off the wettest and dirtiest of her layers. She winced as she lifted thenbsp; over her head. Her shoulders were stiff fronbsp; hours of standing still, and she dreaded to think what they would feel like torrow. But as she pulled at the tight leather bindings that covered her chest, she took a grateful gulp of air. The bindings were necessary to protect her identity, but they were not fortable.
Dressed in a sile long white shirt that she hoped hid st of her curves, Mulan carefully lay down. For one glorious nt, she sily relaxed there with her eyes closed, letting her scles take a break.
And then the soldier beside her let out a loud snort and turned over. As he did so, he threw his arnbsp; across Mulan, pinning her down. To her horror, she realized it wasn’t just any conscript—it was Yao! The sa guy who had bullied Cricket. Lifting a hand, she tried to gingerly ve his arnbsp; off, but the