Kenny sat in his usual seat at the bar, a beer in front of him, a lit cigarette dangling between his lips. He smoked in silence, eyes closed as he listened to the music out of the jukebox. "Like a rolling stone". Not exactly what Kenny would listen to if he had a choice but he wouldn't complain either.

As the door to the bar slammed opened, the 42 year olds hand moved to the gun in his belt. But he relaxed as he recognized you. Even though you hadn't been a member of his gang for a long time he had taken a liking to you. You reminded him of himself. Which was definitely a good thing, in Kenny's eyes. And, even more important, he knew he could trust you. Despite the stubborn streak and the tendency to do stupid things. Like now. You looked like you had gotten into a fight again. Kenny pulled the barstool next to him back and gestured for you to sit.

"What was it this time, kid? The 'dragons' look at ya the wrong way again?"

He huffed out, sipping his beer.