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He shrugged. "Would answer some questions about your buddy, that's all. I'm mighty curious about his falling out with Kaegan. He usually kept his boys pretty close." The cigarette bounced on his lip while he talked.

"But I think I got a pretty clear idea. Wouldn't surprise me, anyway." The rain made everything feel a little bit darker, as water collected in the tarp's low points. All around people were huddling in tight groups to stay dry- Isiah, off in the distance, of course, being the exception. He dissapeared shortly into the hole down to the well, pulling the makeshift plywood cover over it with him.

Braeden snorted, not exactly surprised. At first, he hadn't nailed Isiah as the type, but the way he mothered Tsurai was making it painfully obvious, not only to himself, but to the few other Denziens who were gathered at the encampment. He wondered how long Isiah would try to keep it quiet, or what story he would tell if it came out.

He laughed, shaking his head. "You're a shitty liar, kid, but if you don't want to talk 'bout it, fine. I'll figure it out. He told you about Kaegan?"

He liked running in verbal circles with Tsurai. He knew the kid's bound to make a mistake.

Isiah was able to keep Tsurai in check. But without him, Tsurai turned into a little blabber mouth idiot. Which suited Braeden fine. He needed information, if he was going to get back at Isiah for kicking his a** so publically. If he couldn't do it with muscle.. he would do it with smarts.

Braeden gave Tsurai a long, cool look before shaking his head back and forth slowly.

"Kid, you might think of your family in the best light. I understand that. It's hard growing up like that. My Dad was a dealer too. He didn't ******** me up like he ******** you kids up, but I got an idea. The reason my alpha got involved in that crap, the reason ANY Denzien gets involved in that crap, is to make money."

He took the final drag off of his second cigarette, flicking it behind him into the rain. "Kaegan's little clan had maybe thirteen people at it's height. Mine had nearly one hundred fifty. It takes cash to run s**t like that. Easy money. It's hard getting a job when you're covered in ink, or when society's all ready labeled you. My kind weren't too nicely looked upon before the crash- and I'm not sure we're looked upon any better, now that it's done and over with. What drug dealing did was give our clanmembers the right to leave. Gave them the right to say you know what, this isn't right for me. Kaegan made his boys pay out of their pockets for anything he couldn't afford. Can you imagine medical expenses? No wonder Isiah ******** your arm up. He's probably had to set his share, because they couldn't afford it. Drugs," He paused, coughing into his fist.

"Drugs are easy money, kid. It's easier than forcing your members out into the world, or making them rob their parents, or sell their things. And it gives the youth an idea, head on, of what can happen to you if you don't stay militant. Kaegan had to use propaganda, kiddo. We just said, look at our clients. Look who we're selling this s**t to! You wanna end up like that?" He hacked into his fist again, shaking his head out. THe kick to the chest had taken toll whether he liked it or not.

"Don't think Kaegan was a nice guy. Far as I'm concerned, he was a ******** *****."

He nodded. "If they wanted to. Chicks can be the fighters if they want.. but.. It doesn't happen often. Most chicks join up so they'll be treated right." He shrugged. "It's hard to be a fighter if you aren't a real bulldyke, I guess. Chicks just don't have the muscle mass."

He plopped onto his rump, stretching his legs out in front of him. "What I'm saying is, it doesn't happen as often."

"Here, let me rattle off some of my vocabulary for you, just so you won't act so damned surprised. ********, s**t, c**k, dyke, slut, f*****t, whore, c***k, spick, redskin-" He paused to cough and take a breath. "Cracker, ******, monkey, whitey, mick, harp, aaaaaand gook." He fumbled through his pockets for more jerky, but it would appear as though he had exhausted his supply. "I'm sure I'll think of more along the way." He rolled his eyes. Kids.

"If I did I'd be hackin' blood. Nah, kid, I used to smoke a lot of pot, that's what did it. Cigarettes just bring back the cough." He was lying, partially. He did smoke a lot of pot, but it was probably the kick to the gut that was making him hack. Or. So he would assume.

He looked down at the dragon tattoo. "The longer you're in, the more you get. Starts with your forearms." He turned his arms, knuckles up, to show Tsurai. His forearm tattoos were similar, if much less lovely, than Isiah's were. "Every single thing you get represents a different moment in Denzien history, leading up until the battle of the kanes. After that it's more personalized." He lay his hands back down behind him, rolling his head lazily on his shoulders. "Isiah's look different though." He shrugged. "Must be the newer generation."