The two brothers were sipping their drinks, very much enjoying the sheriff's story. About the time he wrapped it up, however, one of the drunks near the back of the bar started a fight. Kadir immediately stood, eager to be involved. Although he was about knee high to a grasshopper, Kadir was pretty decent in a fight. Amid chose to stay at the table, nursing his glass and waiting for his brother to either get it out of his system or need his help.

Kadir jumped in and pulled a man off another who was taking a pretty nice beating. The guy turned and swung drunkly at him, and Kadir was all to happy to duck and swing back. 

Amid watched as his brother dodged blows and landed his own. He wasn't quite sure where Kadir ever learned to fight. Having been born first, Amid was always treated differently by their father. He was held to a higher standard, because one day, their father's fortune and business would be passed on to him. Kadir, however, was a bit spoiled. Their mother had always doted on him from day one, and their father had treated him as a child. As such, Kadir had grown up to [i]be[/i] something of a child. The look of delight on the Afghan's face as he fought off a couple staggering drunks made that much pretty clear.

Amid stood up as his drink ran out and made his way over to the bar. "Bar man, can I get another drink?" He said, his accent thick and a bit hard to hear over the roar of the fight behind him.