Well, lookie here! Rick seems to be wearing a whole new outfit! Well, there's a story below that explains just how he got his paws on it, specially those sweet boots!

Art drawn by  TaniciusFox! Check out his awesome stuff!
Rick is me!

“Errythang fit okay, pardner?” A leatherclad raccoon asked, leaning against a wall as he waited for an associate of his on the other side of a door to finish up.

“Just… about!” A slight grunt was heard, then a zip, as a jacket was zipped up, the one who put it on emerging from behind the door not too long after.

Standing almost as tall as his procyon boss was a large wolf, his gray fur contrasted with a full head of black hair, a lighter gray muzzle, and a full black goatee. Other than that, his remaining distinctive feature was his light blue eyes. Normally, his attire separated him from others, but in this case… he was wearing the same exact clothes as the raccoon.

His lower legs were covered in long black boots, the rims and undersides of each boots having a distinctive bright green trim that separated them from the black leather pants snugly tucked into them. The back of the pants had ample room for his fluffy tail to comfortably wag whenever he walked, the pants having little trouble staying snugly around his waist due to the pair of belts that crossed his hips at an angle, each meeting where a belt buckle would be, creating an X-shape. From each belt hung a gun holster at the hip, though at present, Rick’s holsters were both empty. Right above his belts was a black jacket zipped tightly over his torso, complemented by a red bandana warmly tucked around his neck over the top of the jacket. The untrained eye might think the jacket extended over his hands, as fingerless gloves covered both of them; the glove choice was perfect in the event he had to make use of his claws. Using said claws in mind, there was one detail that would be hard to miss: the nametag on his right chest pocket, spelling out the name “Nash.”

That name referred to the brown-furred raccoon who had been waiting so patiently for him to finish putting everything on, his outfit identical barring his bandana being orange instead. At least, that was the name practically everyone knew him by… his real name (which was itself a pseudonym) was none other than Tennessee Kid Cooper. Something his lupine friend was aware of, given how freely Tennessee used his natural Southern American accent as opposed to the Midwestern one he put on for most people (it had taken some practice to avoid slipping into his drawl).

“S’up to you if ya want ta have the nametag replaced, Rick.” He spoke the wolf’s name, much to the latter’s excitement; when Rick had first joined this organization, he never thought he would end up as one of its top lieutenants, trusted with the boss’ secret of being immortal… much less his clothes! It was admittedly hard to stay focused on Tennessee’s speech, as a pleasant musk was coming from the outfit so snugly wrapped around his form… with it being sealed the way it was, that aroma only had one exit: the top of his jacket, meaning the various scents were going right past his face. It was incredibly wonderful… he wasn’t surprised that so many people (including several lieutenants, from what Rick had heard) were so easily seduced by the raccoon.

“…I can keep it?” Rick blinked, noting that it was an option to keep the nametag of the jacket’s original owner. He would have expected that the raccoon would at least require that part of the clothing be altered whenever Tennessee handed it down to a newly minted lieutenant.

“’Course ya can, son!” Tennessee softly laughed, before leaning in, laying a gloved hand on Rick’s shoulder, causing a pleasant leather creak both in Rick’s jacket as well as his boots as he was made to lean forward a little from the extra weight, “As far as folks are concerned, if ah’m not around, yer jus’ as much Nash as ah am. Y’all are given that jacket fer more than it jus’ lookin’ cool. Erry single one-a mah lieutenants has as much authority as mahself.” Tennessee emphasized his statement by leaning back, looking confident as he positioned a fist in front of himself, a thumb outstretched back towards his own chest.

Rick processed this statement… as part of his new position, he was still Rick, but he was just as much Nash. Any order he gave was to be treated as if it came from the crazy raccoon man himself. All the countless gangs that had been brought into Tennessee’s syndicate one way or another… he now had the right to oversee them all.

While the thought of power was of course appealing, the thought of the many responsibilities it entailed made the wolf freeze up some. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint a man who had placed so much trust in him… especially if it meant he would no longer be able to wear that awesome jacket or those plush boots that made him feel more powerful just by wearing them.

Rick jumped as Tennessee’s hand once more landed on his shoulder… now joined by a second hand on the other. Rick’s light blue eyes looked into a pair of deep red, the red shade always seeming to have the slightest glow to it… those crimson irises might be intimidating if not for the friendly grin the raccoon was giving him (the grin itself could also be terrifying, given all of the raccoon’s teeth were razor sharp, looking like someone had transplanted a shark’s jaws inside his muzzle).

“Aww, don’t worry, kiddo, y’know ah’m not gonna jus’ throw ya ta the wolves. Ah’ll show ya the ropes first.”

Rick, as a wolf himself, blinked at the choice of words with their potentially speciesist implications.

Were it not for his rich brown fur, one might see Tennessee was blushing. “Aww shucks… ah’m sorry, ah didn’t mean it like that.” Tennessee was clearly embarrassed at having made the insensitive remark.

“…I do need to be the guy nobody wants to be thrown to, though, right?” Rick smiled, finding a way to turn his boss’ remark into something positive. The raccoon didn’t mean anything with the poor word choice; besides, it was more than worth feeling those well-worn boots wrapped warmly around his toes…

Tennessee blinked for a minute himself this time around, before bursting out laughing, “Hardworking, AN’ a good sense-a humor! Ah like it!” Collecting himself, the raccoon slung an arm around Rick, walking with him towards a door, making all sorts of gestures with his free hand as he spoke.

“Okay, so ya see, there’s an awful lotta rules ta doin’ what ah do, but ah think a smart fella like yerself will have ‘em all down no problem here soon…”

Nash’s boots were big boots to fill, but Rick was more than confident he was up to the task.