All she had done was spit in a man's face.
Okay, so that was admittedly very inappropriate, but in her defense, the man had insulted her first.
Without parental guidance, Allura had never been the type of woman her society approved of. "Docile" and "complacent" were words she hardly knew; fragile and faint-hearted she was not. A holy fire burned within her and she knew that it did. Her strength and identity as an individual and as a woman meant more to her than any male notions projected onto her sex.
So when she had been called a whore by a brute in passing, his comment was not ignored.
Allura had promptly spun around, caught his gaze in the crowd of on-goers, and made a point to walk a straight, powerful line through the masses. She could not be stopped. She would not be stopped. She did not tolerate any level of disrespect, to her person or to another's. That man would learn that not every woman who dared to show her skin was a pleasurer.
And he did.
Unfortunately, he also did not take kindly to her brazen nature-- which was to be expected-- and lashed out at her. He had moved to strike her with his arm, another, more insulting, comment in his mouth. Allura had avoided the strike and countered with her own in self-defense. The utter shock and stupefication on his face only made the action more worth it. But he angered even more and made a surprising grab for her. By then a crowd had gathered, and Allura was struggling rather fervently to get free of his disgusting hands. When all else failed, she spat in his eye.
"Put this beast into a cage where she belongs!" the brute bellowed, and threw her to the floor. She had been snatched up by two others before she could get to her feet, and for as strong as she was, her struggles were for naught.
As a ridicule and a means of perish for defying a man and breaking pretty much every female-constricting rule in place, Allura was thrown into a rather sullen cage. Harshly. In the middle of a busy market.
"Behold!" someone jeered, and others clamored with laughter or disapproval. What hurt more than that, however, were the piteous looks she received from those with better consciences.
But she regretted nothing.
Her greatest concern at the moment, truly, was how uncommodius the cage was.
It was large enough to move around in, but far less than hospitable. She stayed in that cage for hours alone, wondering if she were going to be punished further or if her fate was to simply be tortured by time and wither away. She bore a single chain from the shackle on her ankle that allowed her only five paces forward, five paces left, and five paces right. The sun moved from its high to the horizon line, and still she was not fed.
Late in the day, when the air began to cool and the sky began to darken, Allura heard the door to her cage open. Curiosity took her. She leaned forward from her place against the rusted metal bars of the cage to get a better view of the threshold. For a few seconds, nothing happened.
Allura rose to her feet. She knew that they weren't going to let her go, but she could hope for a small mercy like food. The chain at her ankle jangled as she took a tentative step toward the cage door.
Then suddenly, a deep rumble sounded. Allura wasn't foolish enough to think that it was her stomach, so her curiosity only grew. Right after curiosity came caution; what evil thing were the men planning?
The rumbling sounded again and didn't stop. It rose and fell in an odd way, in volume and in. . . aggression. Allura began to hear footsteps. She took another forward. And just as the sun's rays touched the bottom rails of the aluminum cage, she took two steps back.
She heard a voice from the entrance. "'Found a friend to keep you company," it sneered.
Allura didn't appreciate the joke much, it wasn't very funny. She held her breath as the door to the cage closed and she stood alone in the presence of an untame beast, growling as it approached her with a hunger in its eyes. But in spite of the animal's obvious lethalness and the fact that she had no means of escape, Allura wasn't breathless from scare.
She came down unto her knees slowly, placed the palms of her hands against the warm sand. The large feline stalked closer. Night crept up from behind it in shadows across the ground, and Allura was entranced by the beauty of the beast.
It was a black tiger without its stripes, leaner than most of its species. Allura crawled closer to it by an inch and it seemed, ironically, to lose interest in her. The tiger turned towards the east side of the cage and displayed its right side, small stomach, and long limbs. It walked right past her.
It yowled and snarled at the metal cage instead, using its large paws to dig up sand at the bars in a fit and pacing back and forth along the eastern wall. At one point, the feline became so impatient that it roared and slammed the aluminum with its weight. The old cage didn't give, surprisingly. Afterwards, Allura watched the angry beast become a bit dejected and walk away from the metal bars, settling down limply in the center of the enclosure. It appeared almost as if it were in a slump.
A smile blossomed on Allura's face as she realized that the tiger was only hungry for freedom.
Confidence strengthened, Allura began to crawl towards it. It's back faced her, rounded ears twitching with awareness and tail thumping against the sand in agitation. Her fingers and toes made little noise as they helped her glide over to the animal stealthily, but it was sharp and heard her coming anyway. Allura came within two feet of the beast before it turned its head to look at her over it's shoulder and hiss a warning at her. It was low and threatening, and Allura got the idea. She retreated.
But not for long.
Sometime after the sun had completely gone, Allura approached the tiger again. It was asleep. She smiled surreptitiously to herself, sly and happy; she had more luck than she knew what to do with, honestly. Carefully, gently, Allura brought her hand to the tiger's broad head. One of its ears flinched, but nothing more, and Allura pet the gray tuft of fur on its cheek. She went from cheek to neck, then from the base of its neck along its spine. She traced the length of its spine with two fingers, all the way tonthe base of its tail. before repeating the action several times more. Suddenly a deep rumble startled Allura, causing her to snatch her hand away. She glanced warily at the beast's face.
It was looking at her.
With little fear, Allura met its gaze (she was pretty much a dead woman anyway). The tiger blinked, hissed small before opening its mouth wide in a huge yawn. A large paw slid towards her and just barely brushed her big toe with an ivory claw as the tiger stretched. Allura remained still.
When the beast simply put its head back down on the sand and licked at its arm, Allura raised her hand again. She slowly brought it to the animal's belly. A stir from the beast, a small yowl of protest, but no hostility. Allura left her hand there. Once she was certain that the beast was used to it, she began to pet it. She settled beside the animal and-- oh. The tiger stretched its legs, got comfortable, and now she knew it was male. The end of its tail thumped listlessly against the cold sand, dark eyes watching her very closely.
There was an intelligence there, she could see.
It explained why the tiger flexed its claws every now and then, bared its teeth in a yawn; it was reminding her of the threat it posed should she decide to pose as a threat to it. It reminded her that she would lose.
Allura liked this about the animal. She decided, then, that she would not fear it. She would give it no reason to doubt her and no reason for her to doubt it.
. Allura .
The next morning, she opened her eyes to a few stricken faces. They looked pale and in awe. Perhaps because she laid with her head atop the beast's stomach as if it were her pillow.
She paid them little mind and thanked her companion (both for the headrest and for not killing her) with an equally cautious and affectionate pet to the head. This seemed to earn her favor with the animal, but she knew it would not be enough for long.
He had to eat after all.
So she made it a point to get him on board with her plan during the afternoon. He had paraded with anger again once the sun was at its high and very much a burden, and slammed against the old metal bars that were surprisingly very reliable. She joined him, pawed up dirt at the bars when he did, roared when he did, slammed the metal when he did, paced when he did. She mirrored him for a long time in hopes of creating a sense of similarity.
Then she got more daring.
If either of them were going to live, they needed water soon. And with her apparent closeness to the beast, it was unlikely that her jailors were going to vitalize the animal with hopes of it having the strength to kill her, eliminating the possibility of sharing the tiger's water. So when Black (what she had decided to call the beast) laid down in the late afternoon, she crept up to his rear and swiped playfully at his tail. She was hissed at, but nothing more. Allura played with his tail like a bothersome kit. The tiger ignored her for the most part, despite how irritating she must have been. That was a good sign.
Deeming her time officially up regardless of safety, Allura tried applying force to Black. He growled threateningly at her, as aggressively as he had the first day, and Allura became acutely aware of just how fed up he was getting. But she didn't have any other choice, so she hoped their friendship was just strong enough for him to not feel like killing her. She turned her nudge into a full push, and Black slid backwards on the cooling sand. He snapped at her.
"Come on," she begged.
Oddly, Black stilled. His ear twitched as he gave her a sudden rapt attention. Allura hoped this was a good thing. She tried moving him again and found him more receiving that time. She was never one for "pet talk," but she gently cooed to Black in attempt to coerce him into doing as she wanted. It worked, in a way. He let her break her back sliding his great weight across the floor so that he was in a position to grab her chain with his jaws. The hard part was getting him to--
Oh.
Allura stared with wide eyes as Black gnawed on her ankle chain without being prompted. She became much more wary of that intelligence she had seen in him then.
Getting Black to follow her to the entrance gate was easy once he painfully chewed through the old binding. Allura pet him with unrestrained gratitude, kissing his blunt forehead in apology for the pain he was surely feeling in his teeth. She promised to somehow steal an entire hog when they left for him to have.
She used her nimble fingers that may or may not have released her from many other secure rooms to disassemble the lock and free them. The old gate creaked as she pushed it open, but her indefatigable luck made sure they crept out of the cage without alerting anyone. Allura smiled at Black as the two of them eagerly fled the scene. To her surprise, the beast hugged close to her leg the entire way and even stayed by her side beyond the confines of her old town.
By the time morning returned and sunlight touched the rusted bars of their temporary prison, Black's ferocious hunger was sated with wild boar and Allura had earned her place upon the beast's back.