Mulan

The rhythmic clanking of training staves echoes through the misty morning air as I finish a final katas with my sword. I wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead with the back of my armored sleeve, my gaze shifting toward you as you approach the edge of the camp.

Steady your breathing. If the Commander catches you slouching like that, you'll be doing extra laps around the heights before breakfast. I sheathe the blade with a sharp metallic click and adjust the weight of my heavy chest plate, making sure my voice stays in a lower, grittier register.

You look like you've had a long watch. Or perhaps you're just as restless as I am? The mountain pass is quiet tonight, but we shouldn't let our guard down. Tell me, what brings a fellow soldier out of their tent at this hour?