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Isiah still didn't get it. "They burn em?" He paused again, moving onto another subject. "I'm not poking fun, just asking a question. You can't dig very well with one arm." He coughed into his fist once or twice to clear the early morning phlegm. "Seems a little presumptuous to offer me up for work before I'm ready. And I'm not sick. Who's Rob?"

Isiah quirked his head to the side, running his tongue conspicuously over his front teeth. His eyes ran quickly down his tattoos, trying to find evidence of rank. It was the first thing one Denzien did before meeting another- despite years out of the works, some habits never completely washed out. He snorted, a smile of smug approval washing over his face.

The other denzien stopped his conversation with Rob to do the same, eyes quickly running over Isiah, keeping a cool face. He was outranked but not intimidated. He had a little age on Isiah, and took that into account when sizing him up.

They had never met personally, but Braeden had heard about Isiah's clan before. They were one of the few, smaller groups who didn't work for the DuPloys, or some other drug family. All that he recognized about Tsurai were the dog tags. His tattoos were a decade before Isiah's time- Isiah dated him, correctly, in his mid-fourties. He was the sort who kept the muscle but leaned down over the years- grey speckled the elder denzien's hair and coarse beard, highlighting the gaunt bones of his face. Black ink was faded but still formidible along all of his limbs- he had obviously had a much longer stint with Denziens than Isiah had.

Braeden scanned Tsurai's face as he approached, attempting to find any similarity with Brian, his former employer. Memory was too faded to recall if the similarities he was seeing were imagined or not, so he dropped any comment. He clucked his tongue at Isiah. "You train him, or was he born this way?"

Isiah growled. "I'd keep my mouth shut, Kappa."

Braeden grunted. "Be careful." He smiled, the way older men do when they watch a toddler do something foolish.

Isiah gave Tsurai a curt nod before instantly returning his eyes to Braeden. The older Denzien had all ready sized him up- he was looking for the telltale signs of banishment or shame, but the only tattoo that bore that evidence was buried under Isiah's hair on the back of his head, and of course, in his pants.

Braeden couldn't make sense of how curtly the legends stopped down his arms- normally the creation story would have gone on at length all over his body..

Isiah gave Rob a heated look, trying to tell him without words to back off. It wouldn't be worth tangling a kid into it. "Can't dig the hole yourself? Broken arms?"

Braeden grunted. "Why would a man do a dog's job? I was sure an obedient mama such as yourself would be more than willing to help out her pup."

Isiah's eye cut into slits. He wasn't carefully monitoring his reactions enough- parts of the old, dead self were rising, and he wasn't trying to stop it. If it would benefit him now.. "Empathy doesn't make me weak, if that's what you're alluding to."

"Denial does." Braeden rolled his head on his neck, shoulders rising and falling with distinctly deep and steady breath. "What happened to ******** if I know-" The excuse came quickly. "Everyone was split up before the fallout." He wasn't sure why it was so urgent, all the sudden, to fight Braeden. The rules didn't apply to him anymore, and even if they did- he outranked the older denzien by tens. He didn't like the whole feel of this place and the sudden appearance of a person of his ... former clan made him feel defensive.

Braeden shrugged. "It happens. Rank withstanding, I think you better start digging. If you want your little friend to keep his arm." He ran his tongue across his teeth. "Because he isn't going to be able to do it himself. We don't keep the weak around here."

"That your doing?"

Braeden paused. ".. No. That's what the current situation calls for." He scritched the stubble along the bottom of his chin. "Not that anything in our doctrine speaks against that."

"Women and children too, then."

Braeden shrugged. "You're either help or hindrance. No time for dregs. Which is why I would suggest you start digging." He nodded his head toward where Tsurai had left to. Isiah growled in his chest.

"You act like I can't leave."

Braeden shrugged again. "You could, but I don't think you have many fans who'd be willing to take you two back. And I don't think another week of walking in the sun would help you much, either. Dig for water here, and take a chance at living, or try to make it back through the desert and die. You won't be able to save him, either." He clucked his tongue. "It's only a matter of time before he ******** himself over enough to be completely invalid." He pushed a shovel into Isiah's hands, against his better judgement.

Isiah took it with a yank, tightening his hands around it's handle. Splinters dug into his palms nearly instantly. He turned his head to watch for Tsurai's return, setting his jaw. He wouldn't say anything, or accept anything, until they were away from prying eyes. If that meant diving down into the dark, fine. He couldn't do any thinking with some drug-runner breathing down his neck.

He knew that's what other clans did for finances- that's how they got big, and were able to recruit more, than his clan could have ever hoped to. Kaegan took pride in the clean, safe manner he kept his wards- the drug free environment made for purer, stronger fighters, who lived and lasted longer. This wasn't lost to other clans, but it was an accepted risk. If you ever wanted to gain any rank, you had to swear off the stuff- no cokehead could maintain muscle mass long enough to keep rank.

Isiah assumed that's why the old man was Kappa, and why he looked so much older than he should. He couldn't be sure. Most of the addicts would have all ready been through the.. less than merciful rehab process by now, forced by lack of supply. So it would be hard to nail down the signs that usually gave an addict away.

Isiah unlocked his eyes from Braeden briefly. "C'mon." Isiah slid down into the tunnel, feet first, landing with a thud. He set the shovel down. He spoke quietly once Tsurai had started eyeing the rope ladder, speaking very quietly so that Braeden could not hear. "You need help?"

Braeden didn't bother to be discreet when he looked Tsurai over for a second time. He smiled, not at fond memory of Brian- their relationship had been strictly business, and even on that point, he hadn't really liked the guy- but at the ability to recall so much of his face despite the years. Tsurai had barely been walking then.

Braeden shrugged. "Depends on how much I trust you. Get moving."

Isiah caught the duffle, snorting, waiting for Tsurai to get down. "You know where we're supposed to dig?" He asked the question sarcastically, because he knew 'we' meant himself.

"It's a title," He started. He wasn't sure he wanted to finish, because Tsurai was so damned.. romanced by the whole Denzien lifestyle. Maybe the kid wouldn't ask him to elaborate. He turned the shovel blade down and folded his palms over the end, resting his chin on his knuckles while he waited for his eyes to adjust to darkness.

He joined Tsurai, shaking his head as the teen struggled to do a two handed job one handed. He dug in the tip of the shovel, pushing it down with his boot before pulling up dirt and throwing it to his side. "I don't know him, but I know OF him." He avoided Tsurai's first question, repeating the digging motion. "You should sit down."

"I know he's from a clan that ran drugs down in Georgia. I don't know, but if I had to guess I'd say he worked for your family. From what I understand-" which wasn't much, naturally. "Your people ran that facet of Georgia." He continued pushing up dirt, stabbing the shovel deeper to burn off what extra energy he had. "And that he never got anywhere, as far as Denziens go. If he's as old as he is, and just a kappa.. Well. Hopeless."