A Kind Of Bravery: A Mulan Retelling [1st Draft]

9. Arrows and Arguments

Chapter Nine:

Arrows and Arguments

*Eleven days later*

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"I'm sorry Clark, you can't come with me." The mouse squeaked by way of answer. "I know I said you could, but you can't, not today. I'll be moving my shoulder too much." Clark squeaked some more. "No, I'm putting my foot down."

"Are you arguing with Clark again?" Oliver said, taking a seat beside her at the table in the food tent, a plate of steaming mush that was supposed to pass as a meal in his hands. "You're getting some strange looks."

"Hey, it keeps them away, doesn't it? Plus, he wants to come with me. He keeps trying to climb up onto my shoulder." Harriet glared at Clark. "And you're not going in my pocket either."

"You're going to become notorious for being the crazy guy who talks to mice," Oliver said around a mouthful of food.

"Better than being the crazy guy who's afraid of mice," Harriet countered, smirking at the memory of the first time Garreth had met Clark. "Who knew such a big guy would be afraid of such a little animal?"

"You, you did, remember? You overheard him ranting about them and then made sure to show him your new pet the next morning."

"I will always cherish the memory of Garreth McIntosh screaming like a little girl," Harriet said wistfully, looking over at said man who was staring at Clark in horror from across the room.

"I'm sure you will," Oliver said with a chuckle before turning solemn. "Though I think you should watch your back, he's going to want revenge for making him the laughing stock of the camp."

"What could he do? He's already slammed my face into manure, drenched my things in water, and tripped me several times. I don't think he's bright enough to do much more than that."

"You don't have to be smart to get revenge, Harry. I mean look at you, you got revenge didn't you?"

"Hey!" Harriet protested indignantly. "That's not fair."

"You set a mouse on him. I hate to break it to you, but Clark's not exactly a dragon. It didn't take much smarts to get him to squeak a few times and bite Garreth's pinky."

"I'll have you know that it took me a very long time to convince him to do anything but sleep and squeak." Harriet sent a frown at the mouse who was perched on her hand, squeaking at her. "I can't figure out whether he's lazy or just lazy and talkative."

"Neither. He's just smart enough to get enough sleep at night instead of lying awake plotting revenge." Oliver sent Harriet a pointed look that she didn't meet. "At least we know the King finds it amusing, or else you'd be in trouble for terrorizing your tent mate."

"He does not," Harriet replied, not believing him for a second. There was no way King Nothing-Amuses-Me Leopold, found anything funny.

"Oh no, he does. You should've seen him when he saw Garreth come tearing out of your tent like a bat out of hell with you hot on his heels and holding Clark. I thought his face might seize up from the effort of hiding his smile."

"Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it," Harriet said with a scoff. Oliver just gave her a look before turning back to his food, shoveling each spoonful into his mouth hurriedly, causing the majority of the food to end up in his goatee. "Why are you hurrying?" Harriet asked, eyeing Oliver's messy eating with a hint of disgust. Oliver gulped down a large mouthful of food before answering.

"It's archery today. I want to get there early to practice." Harriet raised a skeptical eyebrow. It wasn't the first day of archery, and probably wouldn't be the last, but already Harriet knew that Oliver was not meant to be a master marksmen.