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Isiah rolled his eyes, zipping up the duffle bag and hiding it back underneath the pile of rubble where it had been before. He really wasn't up for more walking around after the punishment his crotch had been dealt, and after the speech Tsurai had given he was surprised he was still intent onto going into town. He didn't know what Tsurai planned to see there.. or if there was much to see.

He stood slowly, grunting a little in minute pain. The burning was dying down, but he knew it would take a week to be able to walk normally. He chortled. Well, that at least was an experience men of his 'ilk' were used to.

He followed after Tsurai, hands in his pockets. "Why the hell you wearing pants on your head?"

Isiah tipped his head to the side and promptly raised his middle finger. "Just a moment master, give me time to do your bidding." He plopped back down by the duffel, folding his arms behind his head. "Enjoy your trist into town, son."

Isiah watched the charade before standing, lifting the dufflebag from him, tossing it over his shoulder. He gave Tsurai a smug, yet reproachful look, waiting for perhaps an apology or an admission of weakness. He knew he wouldn't get one..

"You done being a dickwad now?"

"No tape. And I'm sure you'd find a way to be annoying without talking." He nearly shuddered thinking of all the ways it was possible.

He was becoming really, intensely tired of caring for Tsurai. And caring about him. The kid had NO sense of gratitude, and he wasn't the type to give without a return, not forever. Even the fraternal need to protect him was wearing down with Tsurai's constant attitude. Tsurai was so intent he was RIGHT all the time, and it was rarely, if ever, the case. Isiah had ten times Tsurai's maturity, though the age difference wasn't THAT nominal. The kid owed him respect. He probably owed him his life.

Pain didn't teach him any lesson, that was obvious. Neither did talking or any more humane way of teaching. He was about ready to dump the kid on Alex's lap and leave him there.

Isiah sighed and surveyed him. His parents did a real whack job on him, he thought. No guidance. Smart kids, without a guiding hand would turn into what Tsurai was- braggart and filled with fake bravado, but always inwardly looking for approval. Isiah had been that way at eighteen, too.

Life had kicked him hard enough in the a** to make him wary of acting the way Tsurai did. But he was sure that even his makeshift Denzien family had offered him much more than Tsurai's had. Judging by the scars, anyway.

The curiosity was a tight pang in the bottom of his gut but he didn't want to intrude on Tsurai's privacy. Tsurai wasn't much for keeping secrets, in his experience. When Tsurai wanted him to know, he would know. He wasn't sure he could handle whatever had happened to Tsurai, even from a second perspective. Something horrible, to keep him the way he was.

"I know you don't," he answered curtly. "You gotta accept I've got a little bit more life experience on me, kid. The extra years really do wonders." He watched his face a moment longer to gauge if Tsurai was taking it well or not- he couldn't tell, so he tried again. "Sometimes it's better to be the willow than the oak."

Isiah sighed again, shaking his head back and forth slowly.

"It's not an irish proverb.. I thought..." He groaned.

"The story goes.." He paused.

"Maybe it's Aesop. Anyway, the story goes that an oak was talking to a willow tree- bear with me. And the oak said, 'How weak and fickle you are! Even gentle breezes shake your branches!' Blah blah. 'I stand tall against all odds!' And the willow replied something witty like 'Sometimes it is better to bend.' And the willow .... snorted.. contemptedly or something. The next day there was a great hurricane, and the oak, rather than bend, was uprooted entirely from the ground, while the willow had simply let it's branches whip around with the force. So in the end, the willow was standing and the oak was felled."

He blinked a few times. He had never heard it told so horribly but the idea was there. "Understand?"

Isiah groaned, audibly this time. "The moral of this story, kid, is that it's better to be flexible. That way when something bad happens you're more able to handle it." He watched Tsurai clench his fist. "Roll your shoulder, kid, slowly. I didn't pop it out, but I bet the tendons are hurting pretty bad."