The Other White Meat [Rakiura/Open]

Faraz was unimpressed by the showboating the management did. Nothing impressed him, really. It was cheap, profane, and lacked originality. Why could he get a job at Mystique? Oh yeah, because they thought the idea of a boy who tamed tigers like a pro was ludicrous. He had the skill, the professionalism, and they blew him off. "Their loss!" Faraz kicked an empty bean can across the field of the Ragtag camp.

It was hard being content with the way things had been in the past few months, what with his brother's attempt to usurp their father, and running away from home. It was also difficult being treated well again, at least by the freaks. They were so different, and obviously deserved much more than their lot in life. He pitied them for having to work in squalid condition with little to no reward bestowed to them. Being a child, Faraz stubbornly upheld a policy of fairness and right. Life just wasn't fair; he would change that if he could...

A scuttling from a box car beside him caught his attention. He was so engulfed in his thoughts that he passed the tiger cage completely, on his way to feed them several cuts of less-than-stellar meat. Laying down the heavy bucket, the Persian boy read the sign: "CANNIBAL QUEEN - DO NOT ENTER!" He silently contemplated leaving then because the thought of having some islander chowing down on his flesh like one of his big cats was more than he could handle. However, instead of the howling and teeth scraping he had imagined would emanate from the cell, there was only pained moans and shuffling, occasionally the growls of someone's stomach. Faraz, undetered, knocked gingerly on the door, taking note of the food pail outside that had been empty for quite a while now.

"Hello? Are you alright? Are you sick? I have some food if you want any, but it's not much..."

Faraz jumped back slightly as the door swung open. His initial panic was then dulled by a wave of shame upon seeing the poor girl in such squalid conditions. Why was she tied up like that? How much were they feeding her? Did they only let her out only for shows?

He peeked through the doorway, wide eyes looking for any remains that looked remotely human- a skull, a hip, but there was only a plate of some rancid-looking meat. "Eeew," Faraz's nose scrunched up at the lame excuse for a meal. "Yeah, you need some real food for once, but first-" he walked over to her hands, gingerly tugging at the blood-stained ropes. Scratching his head, he took out a dull pockey knife from his overall's pocket and began to laborously saw at the itchy cord.

"Hold still for a moment and...there you go! You can move around as much as you'd like now!" The boy beamed at his small act of charity, pulling his tigers' food pail to his new friend. "It's all beef, I know that much," he mumbled, "but I think there's a bit of steak in there somewhere. Do you need some water or some bandages or something?"

Faraz scooted back to give the islander some room to move, unsure of how Anihara would react to her newly acquired freedom. It was like liberating an pet that someone had abandoned long ago. But she showed no hostility or aggression like most would have expected out of a "savage." Faraz, however, was very open-minded for someone his age. Not quite naivety, but still enough to believe that there was some reason to give someone the benefit of the doubt. He giggled and blushed a bit when she rubbed noses with him, only scrunching up his nose at the lingering stench of rotten meat on her breath. How long had it been since she had a bath? She was different, sure, but no stranger than he or the next person. "Friends? Sure! I don't see why not?"

"You want water, okay?" He stood up and brushed his grimy pants off with his equally dirty hands. He fished a partially cooked bit of steak that he had found on top of the waste bin. It wasn't restaraunt quality, but hey! Nobody had any right to be picky in the middle of a wasteland. "Here; have some of this. I'll be back with some water; don't go nowhere!" Closing the door gently on his way out, the boy took the empty pail by the wagon to the communal spigot to fetch some clean water. There was no doubt in his mind that she needed it. After a few excruciatingly long seconds, he rushed back to the wagon, hoping that no one caught wind of his mischief. "Did I miss anything? Anyone stop by?"

Faraz had no doubt that she was near starved, knowing how the management ran in the Ragtags. He had arrived just after the last owner died, and he heard stories about how different, how better things were when he was alive. Apparently standards of living had died with him.

"You look much better now," he commented, marveling at the empty food bucket. "And that's great, sort of, that no one came by to check. I was worried that I'd get caught." How long had it been since she had eaten something decent? Or had a bath? Anger boiled in his gut at the very injustice, which was doubled by the sight of her handcuffs. "Why did they put you in these?" He asked, turning her wrists over side by side. The skin around the metal restraints looked chafed and pale. "These are much too tight! I bet we could find someone to get these off." He pulled off her ratty bedsheet and threw it across her head. "Here- cover up so no one will recognize you. I'll say you're a relative or something, okay. Follow me," Faraz said as he tugged her hands towards the door. Back home, he had seen women wearing burkas and hijab since they were Muslims. He was supposed to be a Muslim (that was Arash's own statement; not his), but being raised with little to no parental supervision had left him indifferent to religion in general. It was a poor scheme, but better than none.

((I got permission to move this to Prune's "Cherry Girl" thread in the Confection Stands XD Sorry for the late reply, but I just wanted to give you a heads up! :3))