"He says the soldiers do not see us as people. They march through our hunting grounds. They frighten our children. They say this land belongs to the King"
Jeremiah's hands curled at his sides.
"They have done the same to us," he admitted. "They quarter themselves in our homes without permission. They take what they want and call it duty."
Kitchi studied him, surprised. "So you suffer under them too."
"Yes," Jeremiah said. "And many here are growing tired of it. There is talk of resistance. Of standing against the Crown."
The leader listened closely as Kitchi translated. When he finished, the man shook his head.
"He says your wars always find their way to us. We are caught between crowns and colonies, though we chose neither."
Silence settled between them, thick with shared unease. In the distance, the faint sound of a drum echoed from somewhere deep in the forest, a reminder of lives already under threat.
Jeremiah finally spoke again. "If fighting comes, I swear it will not be against you.
I will not raise a hand toward your people."
Kitchi met his eyes, searching for truth. After a moment, he nodded.
"Then we walk a dangerous path together, my friend."
Kitchi watched Jeremiah as the words were translated, seeing more than just a settler before him. He saw the man who shared his food, who worked beside him without complaint, who listened instead of commanding. A good man. A rare one.
When the leader finished speaking, Kitchi answered before turning to Jeremiah, his voice steady and sure.
"I will stay," he said simply. "With him."
Murmurs rippled through the small group. The leader studied Kitchi sharply, concern and disappointment warring in his gaze.
"You would side with the colonists?" he asked.
Kitchi shook his head.
"I side with justice. With those who are being crushed under the same boots that trample us." He turned to Jeremiah, meeting his eyes fully now. There was no hesitation there, only quiet devotion.
"You fight the redcoats," Kitchi said. "So do I. Their chains are the same, no matter who they bind."
Jeremiah felt something tighten in his chest.
"You don't have to do this," he said softly. "I won't ask it of you"
'I know," Kitchi replied. "That is why I choose it."
The leader exhaled slowly.
"Then walk your path carefully, my son. The world is changing, and it will not be gentle."
Kitchi inclined his head in respect, but his place was already decided.
He stepped closer to Jeremiah, their shoulders nearly touching, an unspoken promise hanging between them.
Whatever storms were coming, they would face them together.
no select, so i went with “choose”
Kitchi chooses to stay with Jeremiah and not return to his people.
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from the Historical story “Borrowed Hearts”