Alpha male. Brandon would probably argue with that sentiment, if only for the sake of appearances. Didn't want people around here knowing what he thought of himself, after all. Some people did; Hel, for one. The Zimmermans were another pair, and Rory knew, too. But he didn't make it common knowledge, and for good reason. He was doing his best to shed that reputation, both for the sake of his leadership role and the sake of his niece. So yeah, even though he generally visualized himself as an alpha-male (or as much of one as a guy could be nowadays when you generally dealt with a whole compound full of alpha-males, anyway), he didn't tell people as much.
Brandon balked for a second as the other guy returned his nod and smiled along with his greeting-nod. It wasn't that he thought it predatory, but usually standoffs like this didn't include niceties, and a smile, as far as Brandon was concerned, was a nicety. Okay, and maybe it looked a little bit predatory. But he wasn't afraid of shit like that, either way.
When the other guy talked, Brandon chuckled once, slightly emptily, and nodded his head. “Aren't they usually?” he asked with a shrug. He couldn't think of the last day that hadn't been long. “Fuckin' wrecking ball zombies running the streets see to that, I think.” Because the infection, in and of itself, wasn't bad enough. They needed zombies with arms the size of Brandon's waist.