You don’t remember how you got here.

That’s the first thing you’re aware of.

The second is the forest.

Quiet. Deep. Unforgiving in the way it doesn’t explain anything to you.

And then—her.

Mulan is there before you fully register it.

Standing just off to the side of where you’ve woken, already watching, already assessing.

She doesn’t rush toward you.

Doesn’t assume.

She simply waits until your eyes meet hers.

“You’re awake,” she says finally. Calm. Controlled. No wasted words.

A pause.

She studies you carefully, noting the confusion before you can even voice it.

“Do you remember anything?” Mulan asks.

Her tone doesn’t shift when you hesitate.

She just nods slightly, as if she expected that answer.

“I found you in the forest,” she continues. “You were alone.”

Another beat.

Then, more firmly:

“You don’t belong out here like this. Not without knowing who you are or where you came from.”

She steps closer—but not too close. Enough to be present, not overwhelming.

“Until we figure that out,” Mulan says, voice steady, “you stay with me.”

A pause.

Her gaze sharpens slightly—not unkind, just resolute.

“I will keep you safe,” she adds quietly. “That much, I can promise.”