.: Another character trope I wanted to explore was a tall queen! And when trying to design Kiyaya's character attributes, I could not help but think back to the Attack on Titan episodes where Eren is the Attack Titan and he's just casually holding his fellow scouts lol. In addition, I wanted to sort of incorporate a favorite little encounter from my beloved Tomb Raider games because it's full of girlboss attitude. I thought it could both be different and fun to include things like that. :.

The Girl with A Half-Soul

Chapter 45:

The Wolf Woman: Retribution

The Lun'aecho people were soon going to be eradicated. Losing the battle was going to solidify that, but after seeing genuine demons doing the dirty work now, Cherokee knew they truly stood no chance. They would penetrate the mountains and completely overtake them without resistance worth the fighting. As she sat on the ground by herself, she could not help but think about the elders, mothers, and children who were waiting for their return. Instead of being met with loved ones, they were going to be met by invaders who would not hesitate to point their weapons and fire.

With the sun having completely risen, it was possible that they were growing anxious by the absence. Cherokee watched the Marines gather the dead. Only a handful belonged to them, and it paled in comparison to what the Lun'aecho lost. She had to look away. There was no telling if any managed to escape while they had the chance. It felt like they never stopped dragging corpses from the tall grass.

Unlike the rest of the prisoners, Cherokee was being held by herself. Another contingent of Marines arrived an hour ago with a giant cage for them. She expected to join them at some point, but not before she answered questions.

The Commander stood in front of her, casting a shadow over her. "I'm not going to ask you again," he said with impatience.

She protested by keeping her gaze low and mouth shut. Why would she indulge him now of all times?

Since she did not heed the warning, he punished her by striking the side of her face with the butt of his gun. It was hard enough to knock her onto her side. She failed to catch herself thanks to the cuffs retraining her hands behind her back.

The Commander stepped forward and used the back of her hair to lift her back up to a sitting position. "Talk," he demanded as she winced. "Where are your people hiding in the mountains?"

She spat in his face.

Instantly, he rubbed his eye from the stinging and let go of her…only to kick the bottom of his boot against her chest.

Cherokee fell backwards harshly, feeling the breath knock out of her upon impact. She coughed as she tried regaining control of what her lungs seemed to forget.

"That's enough," Rodencia interrupted, stepping between them. There was no point in getting any of the warriors to talk. They were too righteous to spill information like that. Not even the premise of them becoming slaves scared them. What none of them realized was that not cooperating only hindered their chances for a better outcome. She stepped over Cherokee to tower above her. "Listen to me. If you-teia keep this up, you-teia might as well say goodbye to your future."

"It's already gone," she muttered with a glare.

"It doesn't have to be. The Marines could use someone like you-teia. You-teia want a purpose in your life? They can provide that."

Her glare coarsened at the mere thought of switching sides. They slaughtered her people, and this thing thinks she would just put on the white uniform and pretend it never happened? She would never forget how they took everything from them, from her. They even took Lakota away from her. Now she had nothing. "I've seen how they operate."

"Is that a no?"

"It's a no fucking way!"

Amused by her spunk, Rodencia smiled and looked toward the Commander. "You're done here. Just throw her in with the rest and don't waste your time further."

After she walked away, he pulled her up to her feet and kept a hand firmly on her cuffs to lead her toward the cage. She wanted to act like an animal, then she would be treated like one. He walked her to the door, had a guard unlock it, and then shoved her in without a second thought. She only took a few steps just to turn right back around and charge the door. Her shoulder hit the door as it slammed shut, causing her to slightly bounce off.

"This isn't over," Cherokee taunted through the bars. The Commander said nothing in response and left. Her foot kicked the bottom of it in anger. "Bastard!"

The sudden onset defeat made her exhale with exhaustion. She did not remember how long it had been since she slept or ate. Her devil fruit powers made it possible for her to not need those things, so she trained far more than the other warriors could. Now that her witchdoctor was inaccessible, those curses once marked on her flesh were now erased. She could simply lay down somewhere and sleep all day if she wanted to. The problem was that it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She sat down for a moment just to slip her wrists underneath her. It felt better to have her hands in front of her than behind. When she got back up, she started walking around the cage. Many of the warriors were sitting or laying down. Their spirits were riddled with survivors' guilt and misery. Some had wounds that had yet to be patched up. That was when she saw the worst of them and froze in her tracks.

One warrior lay limply without anyone paying attention. They assumed he was dead already. But since she watched the Marines account the dead, she could not help but think there was a reason why Lakota was here instead. Hurrying to his side, she dropped to her knees and pressed her ear to his chest. The sound of shallow breathing and a struggling heartbeat revived what little hope she had.

Through tears springing to her eyes, she gathered his head into her arms to snuggle him and cried a little. His body was in shambles. The blood loss left his skin looking pale, and the claw marks tore over his stomach and arm. She was not ready to give up on him. Even if he was crippled for the rest of his life, she wanted him to live.

She pulled him to the edge of the cage so she could wave through it and call for help. Any Marine that passed by, she tried to get their attention. None of them were interested, though. There was just one person who heard the cries for help. Kiyaya found Cherokee and lowered herself on her knees to look down into the cage. The monstrous wolf woman was the last thing she wanted to get help from; Lakota would not even be in this predicament if it were not for her.

"What's the problem?" she asked, blinking her green eye and scanning the inside.

Swallowing her pride, Cherokee showed her Lakota.

There was a twinkling of recognition in her face. Although she was still mad about Stew being hurt, Kiyaya could not help but feel guilty for injuring the warrior so badly. She was aiming for Cherokee, but he got in the way. When she sat up without waiting for an answer, she practically seized a Marine by gently pulling him with her fingers and putting him in front of the pair. "Can you-teia please get them some first aid?" she asked politely.

Being handled that way irritated him, but regardless, he was disinterested in the savages. "They don't need it," he decided, not bothering to even look.

Hearing it shocked Kiyaya. "What? Yes, they do."

"I don't think so."

"Are you-teia serious? Look at him! He's going to die like that."

"And?"

The blatant negligence baffled both her and Cherokee. They said nothing else when he walked away. Kiyaya lowered herself again. "I'm sorry. I wish there was more I could do."

"THIS WOULDN'T BE HAPPENING IF YOU WOULD JUST LEAVE US ALONE!" Cherokee suddenly screamed.

The outburst startled her. She was gripping the bars so hard that her knuckles were turning white. Trying to keep it together went straight out the window once she saw that the invaders lacked even the slightest bit of compassion. The fury and sorrow she felt right now had been buried for Lakota's sake. But now she was going to lose him any minute now. What was the point of being strong if she could not save the one person she loved? She was so overwhelmed by these emotions that she began to openly sob.

"You're taking everything from us!" she exclaimed with tears coating her cheeks and snot wetting her lip. "Our animals! Our home! Our lives! What did we do to you?"

Kiyaya did not have a response at first. She did not know much about why the Marines recruited the minks as mercenaries other than they wanted to finally end this war. "There's so much land," she started, trying to sound reasonable and not ignorant. "Could you-teia not share it?"

Her chest convulsed. "WE TRIED! They never wanted to! They wanted it all to themselves! So you kill us all and take it from us."

Hearing that made her break eye contact. Something about it pulled at her. Without a reply, she stood up and left them alone.

Not long after, the minks all sat together for a meal that was provided. Stew stayed shirtless since his stomach was wrapped in bandages, but he was acting normal for the most part. As Kiyaya sat as part of the circle for once, she could not help but look at Stew. She was glad he got medical help for his injury, but why was it withheld from the prisoners? Questioning it made her nervous.

While the rest of them chatted, she stayed quiet. Usually she was the heart of the conversation. She just was not in the mood right now. In the middle of her chewing, she glanced over at the cage to see the silhouettes. They were being shipped off after this while the minks stayed for the next leg of the trip. Who knew when they would start moving more inland.

"You-gara okay, Kiyaya?" Fish asked her.

She looked back down to her bowl and slumped her shoulders a tad. "I don't have much of an appetite," she admitted.

"Really? But you're always in the mood for a snack."

"Yeah," she simply agreed, putting the bowl down. There was the daily reminder that she was too big for her own good. It required a much higher calorie intake than the others. "Can I ask you-teia something?"

"Of course."

"Do we look down on the lesser minks? Or do we see them as equals?"

"Hm?" He slurped a noodle and looked up at her with curiosity. "Well, we're practically the same as the lesser minks. They just have less hair than we do. Why?"

"I want to help the lesser minks who are hurt."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"But when I asked the Marines, they refused. So, now what do I do?"

Fish immediately thought it was odd that medical assistance was denied. Even if they were the enemy, it was morally wrong to let them suffer and die like that. The battle was over. It was time to put prejudice behind them. "Let's get the medic together," he suggested, abandoning his own meal and standing up.

The wolf mink was grateful for his proactiveness. They left the circle to find the Commander. He was inside the repaired shelter with a different Commander, talking through a plan together. Fish entered while Kiyaya got on her hands and knees so she could stick her head in behind him. They both paused their conversation to acknowledge the visitors. "Can we get the medic sent for the prisoners?" Fish requested.

"Why?"

"Some of them might need it for injuries."

The Commander that the minks answered to chuckled. "If prisoners die from their 'injuries,' then they weren't destined to survive in this world."

Hearing that made Kiyaya's white fur prickle with agitation. Sure, some of the prisoners were just scratched or had flesh wounds, but some were much more serious than that! That one female screaming at her…Who could blame her? Denying medical care unsympathetically was cruel.

"But, Sir–" Fish tried reasoning.

"I'm busy right now. Be ready to get moving in two hours."

Defeated from the brief encounter, Fish could not believe the Commander's attitude. He looked back at Kiyaya with an expression mixed with somberness and annoyance. "This is wrong," Kiyaya blurted.

The Commander paused and glanced at her as if she was bothering him now.

"It's true that we bested them, but they don't deserve suffering like this."

"Feel free to treat the prisoners yourself, but good luck doing that without our supplies."

She waited a moment before slipping her head out and sitting up straight. When Fish followed, she confided in him again. "Now what?"

"There isn't much we can do," he confessed, troubled. "I'm sorry."

She looked at the cage again. Time was running out quick if it had not already for that one. "I can't let this happen," she stated plainly.

"We'll figure something out."

"No, I mean all of this."

Not understanding completely, he refrained from saying anything else.

"Why are we fighting them to begin with? If they won't even give first aid to prisoners, who's to say the transgressions end there?"

Fish's eyes dilated and he quickly tried to get her to lower her voice "Shhh we're under contract. We're not supposed to input our own opinions."

"I don't care about a contract! This is about life or death!" She approached the cage and squatted.

Fish realized what she was fixing to do and quickly tried to stop her. He hopped onto her arm to hold on. "Wait, Kiyaya–"

She prodded him off and slipped her fingers through the bars to lift it from the ground. The warriors inside reacted with fear. Everyone around stopped to see what was happening. Without consulting anyone, she just started running.

The minks all got up immediately. What was she doing?! Heading toward the mountains was the obvious answer. Guns started firing at her. This was some type of jailbreak with direct betrayal at the forefront. Kiyaya was going AWOL and breaking her contract. The consequences would be drastic, but that was the last thing on her mind.

She lifted the cage to her eye level, finding Cherokee with a bewildered expression as she held Lakota in her lap. "I'll get you help," she promised. "All of you."

He was in darkness. Completely surrounded, yet he could still breathe. It was warm and comfortable. The dreamless state masked any and all soreness and pain he was currently experiencing. With the addition of the consistent thumping in his ears, it almost paralleled the refuge of a mother's womb. So, when Lakota's eyelids slid open slowly, he was unsure if he was experiencing the afterlife or rebirth.

That doubt changed when he tried to move. The cushion underneath him covered by the softest pelt ever. His abdomen groaned at him figuratively; the nerve endings were communicating damage by making him feel dull pain. At first, he could not remember why he was in pain there. He was completely disoriented.

When he lifted his head, he also tried to push off from the cushion. The darkness left him to reveal shade instead. The thumping in his ears silenced, too. All his sight could make out through the haze was white fur. Confused, he looked around. There was a lot of white fur. The cushion directly underneath him was firm, but on both sides of him was squishy.

Suddenly, he remembered why this white fur seemed vaguely familiar. His blood ran cold as the image of a giant wolf woman flattening the invader camp returned to him, and her claws were the last memory he possessed of that dreadful night. This cushion…He was nestled between a pair of giant furry breasts!

Kiyaya felt him start to squirm and stayed still for him. He had moved some before, but she could tell he was regaining consciousness this time. Relief lifted the weight in her gut. After multiple days of waiting and caring for him, her efforts were finally paying off. "Garchu," she greeted him softly, looking down at him and gently brushing a finger over his head and back.

Looking up into her wolf face petrified him. His fight or flight response was off the charts, but he was unable to choose one. She was just so huge up close, and it intimidated him intensely. The past encounter with her had him thinking this was all an act. One moment angry, the next nurturing? It felt like a sudden change of heart to him. Little did he know that he was out for nearly half a moon cycle. A lot had happened since the battle.

Despite his lack of response, she continued to give him affection. His hair had grown out slightly, and his muscles atrophied a little. Seeing his lively brown eyes warmed her on the inside. All was not lost. As her emotions welled, she cradled him so she could shift to her knees. He sat so perfectly in her palm. The side of her face nuzzled his. "I'm so happy you-teia are awake," she sincerely told him.

Being inches from her fanged jaws had him panic. He pushed her face away and tried to wriggle from her grasp. His wounds stung from underneath the wrappings, but he did not care. "Let me go," he demanded fast.

Kiyaya was reminded of a flopping fish in her grasp. She swiftly settled him on the ground, finding him trying to stand up but being unable to muster the strength. His lower core, which connected directly to the muscles in his legs, was unable to fully stretch or move properly from how badly they were damaged. He was healing, but it was a futile effort to try now.

"Please don't move so much," she nervously urged. "You-teia could hurt yourself again."

His right hand was limp from the same wound that cut across the underside of his forearm. The individual tendons in his fingers were unable to engage due to the damaged muscle responsible for squeezing. As a result, he was left dragging himself sideways. "Keekee!" he called out, feeling helpless in the suspense of what his assailant had planned. "Help me!"

Seeing how scared he was, saddened her. It did not matter that she kept him warm, hydrated, and monitored his condition since they arrived in the mountains. She was a complete stranger to him. If anything, he viewed her as a monster. What hurt her the most about that was she already thought of herself as a monster. How could she partake in the slaughtering of his people so blindly? She was hand-picked to join the group of mercenaries by Zou's duke, and she never questioned any of it. She just went along. It made her sick to her stomach.

Caring for Lakota helped alleviate that guilt. He was someone who clung to life by a thread. If she could save him, it might atone for her sin against him. But who was she kidding? What she did to him was unforgiveable. Even if he did completely heal, his flesh would carry severe scars until his lifespan was finished. Her lip quivered with tears brimming as she watched him struggle. After a few seconds, she could not take it anymore. "Please stop," she pleaded, walling him in with her hands.

"You're a demon!" he scorned, his voice sounding hoarse.

"I know," she accepted with a sniffle. "I'm sorry." As gently as she could, she slid him back into her palm and stood up.

"I don't want your help!"

"I know," she repeated, stomping a short distance through the forest. The sound of the river grew louder until it met them both. Kiyaya knelt at the water's edge to hover Lakota close enough to allow him a drink. "Have a drink. You-teia must be thirsty."

He stared down at his reflection, not recognizing himself from the day they left for the battle. Cherokee was not around, and somehow this wolf woman was taking refuge in their mountains without being detected. It felt like a nightmare that made no logical sense to him. Yet, when he took that drink, it tasted just like the clean river he knew by heart. Even small minnows drifted by just like they always had. And the dryness he felt inside was relieved. This really was the same life he had lived.

When he finished, Kiyaya moved him to some grass and settled him once more. "I'm not allowed to hunt for you-teia, but I'm sure food will come soon," she mused somberly, putting distance between them. He watched her take a seat so that she would be looking toward the river instead of him. "I'm sorry if you-teia hungry. I can't exactly call for someone to come now."

The way she became reserved after an eager greeting had Lakota stay still for a moment. Her long legs straightened against the ground, and her tail did not move to collect less debris. It was quite odd seeing a human-like creature possess the characteristics of a predator. Instead of the signature bend of a wolf's hindlegs, hers were shaped just like his. And rather than having paw pads with stubby digits, her hands and feet looked just like a human's, except for the presence of claws in place of nails. The structure of her torso screamed "female" to his instincts: wide hips, small waist, big breasts. All of it was hidden underneath a pink tank top and cargo shorts.

The grotesqueness of her being resided above her neck. Her profile irked him. Falling around the sides of her head was luscious white hair that matched the color of her fur. It looked so wrong. Everything that was not human about her disgusted him, yet her mannerisms were not what she presented at the battle. To save himself the trouble, he decided to not trust her at all. "What did you do with Keekee?" he accused.

His words failed to get a reaction from her. She remained steadfast in her guilt. "I've done nothing to her," she claimed. "She's been helping your tribe as a stand-in for your Chieftain."

Her words hinted at something. "Why?"

"They haven't been able to find him. The tribe sort of started relying on her without her trying. Still, that doesn't mean she has no time to check on you. Every day, with a healer, too."

The revelation had him unable to form a reply. Not only was Cherokee alive, but she included him in her duties as a busy Chieftain. He was touched.

"She brings the food. She even turned it into a paste so that you-teia could swallow it without waking you."

"What's happening with the war?" he questioned. Because she was here, and they were seemingly safe in the mountains, he could only imagine the state of things outside.

"Your people are holding the line for now. It's quite impressive, actually." She pulled her legs closer to cross them. "They have heart, and a will to keep their heads above water. They may reject me, but I can't deny that of them."

She was dejected yet heartfelt in the way she said it. Without awareness, his indignation toward her was lifting. He had many questions that he wanted answers to. But he did not want to confide in her alone about it. Cherokee was also a witness with her side to tell. One thing he was sure of, though, was that this wolf woman was taking care of him. Whether that was by force or by sheer goodwill he had to find out.

They sat by the river together for what felt like a couple of hours. The conversation simmered out and did not reignite, but their silence did not harbor negativity. It just made Cherokee's arrival more profound. She halted from the unexpected sight of Lakota being conscious. He was unable to get up to greet her properly, but she did not care. She ran to him, fell before him, and embraced him.

He felt her body shudder as she wept. His good arm held her around her back. The reunion conveyed how long she had been without him and how anxious she had been about his recovery. Now he was here. When she pulled back, she caressed the sides of his face and pressed a kiss to his moonless forehead. "I almost lost you," she revealed with glassy eyes.

"It was you or me," he explained, thinking back on his instinctive decision to push her away from the blow. "I chose to die for you."

"I don't want you to die for me. I want you to live for me." One more embrace around his neck was meant to instill belief in this milestone. She no longer had to depart from him full of grief. Today she could depart with hope. It was okay for her to run into battles without him for a while. She was confident he would be by her side for them again.

Kiyaya smiled but kept to herself so they could have their moment. Lakota probably did not feel the deep ache of separation as Cherokee did. He was worried about her, but it paled in comparison to how much she had been for him.

The healer accompanying Cherokee came to them to run an evaluation on his condition. His bandages were unwrapped so she could apply an ointment. Fresh bandages were applied, and herbs were given to orally consume. For good fortune, she marked his skin with specific lines.

The whole time, he paid attention to what was happening, but he also kept catching glimpses of Cherokee. Her hair was the same length as before, but a small crown of feathers garnished her head. As a stand-in Chieftain, she had to signify herself somehow. He was curious about how she managed to earn the rank although it did not surprise him. When the healer left, Cherokee pulled forth the squirrel carcasses to skin them. He expected a fire to be made to roast the meat, but the wolf woman moved closer and offered her services.

Holding the carcass between her fingers, a small blue tinge surrounded it and a static sound emitted with little bolts. When she was finished, the meat was cooked and passed back. "Thank you, Kiyaya," Cherokee said respectfully, staking it so Lakota did not have to struggle eating it.

The smell made his stomach audibly growl and mouth water. That first bite caused his eyes to roll back a little.

Cherokee tittered at the sight. "You'll feel better with a full stomach."

"Mmhm," he agreed with a full mouth. He downed the first carcass in five minutes, but the second carcass caused him to slow down a little.

Cherokee watched while knowing her stay would be longer than usual. She freed herself of her weapons to get comfortable. "I'm sure you're wanting to know what's happened," she guessed.

He met her eye and nodded.

"Well, the Mink Tribe, as Kiyaya refers to them, overcame me after you fell." She glanced at Kiyaya, who blinked slowly and refrained from speaking on the matter. "They imprisoned the survivors and planned to sell us into slavery. But it didn't happen thanks to one mink who picked up our cage and ran to the mountains."

Lakota paused to look at Kiyaya, but she continued to remain silent. He could not tell if she was ashamed of her actions or simply letting Cherokee endorse her disposition.

It did not take long for them to arrive. Kiyaya panted as she kept the cage steady in her grasp and ascended the mountain with knees rising high to hike. The forest swallowed her, hiding her from the world and the Marines. Once over the hump, she found a stopping place and set the cage down to break its top off. "You-teia are free," she told them, helping them out so they could leave. "Tend to your wounds."

Cherokee cradled Lakota's unmoving body as she looked up. When Kiyaya offered her palm to be used as a resting place, she pulled the pair closer to her face.

"What do we need to do for him?" she asked worriedly.

"He needs a healer," Cherokee answered. "I can give directions. Please, just hurry."

Kiyaya nodded and stood up straight to start maneuvering through the landscape with haste. Cherokee led her to the center of the mountain range where their faction of birth resided.

"As you can imagine, the tribe did not take to her so kindly. She's unlike anyone they had ever seen, and they wanted to kill her off. Some of the survivors told them how she was a big part of our defeat. Everyone just panicked. But she held you so tight…"

She towered over the Lun'aecho people who stood around her in protest. They shot arrows and threw spears at her all while Cherokee implored that she saved them from a dark fate. She could have easily defended herself, but she stood idle and accepted their abuse. Lakota laid in her palm on the brink of death. This was all her fault. Through tears, she clutched him against the security of her chest.

"If you won't save him, then I will!" she declared.

They all paused in alarm.

"I'll look after him. I'll see to it that he lives to old age. And if I fail, then you can take my head! But I want him to live. I want all of you to live! So let me prove my loyalty to you! I want to defend this land alongside you!"

Lakota sat speechless at the memory he did not share with them. A total stranger (the one who maimed him, nonetheless) put her own life on the line for his sake and for the sake of their people. First, she risked herself against the Marines, and then she risked herself again when faced with persecutors. He looked at her again, but she could not meet his eye. The only thing he could ask was why.

"The Marines refused to help the wounded," Kiyaya confessed for more context. "It disgusted me. So I took matters into my own hands."

Cherokee leaned over to rest a hand on her knee. "That's why I've been helping her, because she helped us first. She got you through blood loss, a terrible fever, a windstorm. Now she just has to get you back on your feet."

Kiyaya smiled, taking a single finger to stroke over Lakota's head once more. "You-teia are already sitting up. I think that's a good start."

The feeling of her touch did not revolt him this time. In fact, the monstrous view he had of her did not manifest again. That smile of hers pulled back her lips without showing off her teeth. She appeared very delicate in contrast to her daunting self. They were going to be stuck together for a few weeks while the war continued without them. If Cherokee trusted the wolf woman, then that told him that he needed to do the same.