Mulan | (2009)

Wentai sat beside her. Years ago, he had faked his own death to force her to find her own strength as a leader. He had seen her transition from a girl running away to save her father into a commander who could strategically let her best friends die if it meant saving the empire.

"I dreamt of home again," Mulan whispered, her voice raspy from shouting commands. "The smell of the weaving loom. My father’s cough. I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be just a daughter." Mulan (2009)

The campfire crackled, but it offered no warmth to General Hua Mulan. In her hand, she clutched a small iron identification tag, its edges worn smooth by her thumb. It had belonged to Tiger, her childhood friend—the one who had kept her secret when they first arrived at camp as frightened recruits. Now, he was just another name added to the thousands she had personally collected over twelve years of blood and dust. "You should sleep, General," a voice said softly. Wentai sat beside her