It wasn't often that Tennessee went out on the town. What with the law after him and all. But shoot he just got ol' blue fixed, and he'd be damned if he wasn't gonna celebrate with a good bottle of whiskey.
To that end he put on his best Sunday digs, and walked to the nearby saloon swinging the revolver cane 'ol' blue' on his finger. He was just about to walk through the doors when a hulking mass of armadillo came flying through the door and onto the dirt, a gun was tossed out right after that landed with a thump on his chest. Accustomed to such things Tennessee simply stepped over the K.O'd and continued into the saloon.
Only to see a small raccoon boy, shaking out his small fist. He turned to the rest of the rowdy ruffians and lifted a shot glass before tipping it down his gullet. The rest of the crowd following with a loud hurrah.
Then another hulking mass stood at the table, placing nearly half a years average wage and gun on the table. The boy pocketed the cash, before brushing off his hands and moving away from the table to the centre of the room. The big wolf curled his hands into fists and threw one at the boy, who pivoted around him so fast Tennessee almost missed it before tripping his balance and throwing him to the floor. The wolf got up quickly and grabbed a nearby bottle, brandishing it as a club.
Before it touched the boys head, he blocked it, causing it to shatter onto his left hand. Then he spun on the heel of his boot, swinging his foot into the wolf's jaw, dazing him. Taking a few steps back, the boy leapt into the air and landed a final punch into the wolf's nose with his uninjured right hand, both breaking it and sending him to the floor. Two other wolves threw him out the door and his gun soon followed.
The boy went up to the bar, over the din of the bar Tennessee couldn't hear him. He sat down at a table and pressed his boot against the edge before leaning back in his chair with a grin. However Tennessee noticed the raccoon boy's left hand was wrapped in an already bloodying bar rag.
Tennessee didn't like to be anything less than the centre of attention, so he sat across from the small boy and called for a bottle of the best whiskey. The boy wore a large pair of riding pants and a light shirt covered by a vest, his eyes were shadowed by a large hat.
When he sat the small one looked up at him and Tennessee was surprised by his exotic green eyes and pale fur, but shook himself before he got dragged in. "What's your name boy? I ain't seen you around these parts before."
The boy dislodged his foot from the table and leaned forward with a thump as the chair's front feet came into contact with the floor. "It's Phillip. And maybe you just ain't been lookin' good 'nuf?"
Phillip's voice so surprised Tennessee that he wasn't able to come up with a witty remark. It was fresh off the church choir, so high and crisp. However before he could think on it too much the bottle of whiskey he ordered was placed on their table, along with one shot glass.
"I don't take kindly to someone askin' my name an' not returnin' the favour. What's your name?"
Kid ignored the shot glass, instead brought the bottle to his lips and took a long swig. "Name's Tennessee, but they call me 'Kid'."
Phillip raised a brow as the bar went quiet. "The outlaw who robbed two dozen banks without gettin' caught?"
Ego thoroughly stroked, Tennessee nodded before leaning back in his seat with his bottle of whiskey.
A laugh from the teen before him caught his attention. And he looked around his bottle to see the boy smiling like a cat who got the thanksgiving turkey. "Whatcha findin' funny boy?"
The grin remained on Phillip's face. "Nuthin' you just seem scrawny for some kinda famous outlaw, not to mention," the boy raised his arm to reveal ol' blue; Tennessee immediately checked his hip and grudgingly confirmed that his gun had been stolen from under his nose. "This is a sad gun for someone who robbed countless banks. Or do I underestimate the Cooper family?"
Tennessee lunged across the table to try and grab ol' blue. Unfortunately the boy's feet were already propped up and booted him away before he could so much as touch his beloved revolver.
"Gimme my gun back boy, and I promise you'll leave here breathin'." Kid threatened with a snarl when he stood again.
Phillip seemed to consider this option, before cocking the revolver and aiming it at the outlaw. "I got a better idea 'Kid'. How 'bout I shoot out your kneecaps and bring you to the marshal? You got a hefty reward on ya head you know."
A cold rage entered Tennessee's eyes and before Phillip could put any pressure on the trigger, Tennessee lunged forward and grabbed his gun; just as it went off, shooting a nearby wall. However despite the fact his life was in danger, Phillip did not flinch, only returned Tennessee's cold stare.
Tennessee leaned extremely close to the teen's face and said in a dark voice. "You better take back what you said 'bout my family boy. Or do you wanna start pushin' up daisies?"
Instead of taking it back, Phillip returned his stare and released the gun which he still had a hard grip on. Tennessee immediately spun the gun around and aimed it directly between the aggressor's eyes.
They locked gazes for a long while.
Tennessee felt like he was being evaluated. As if, just by looking into his eyes, this boy could see anything he had ever felt and everything he had ever done. But he was doing the same to this boy. In his eyes Kid could see a confidence that far exceeded his years, along with an untamed fire he couldn't identify.
Suddenly pain exploded behind Tennessee's eyes as he received a swift kick to the groin. A sympathetic 'ooh' came from the crowd surrounding him; as he sunk to one knee with a loud moan, clutching his gun to stay upright and one eye closed in pain.
The boy sauntered out the door, but turned back to look at him. "You better watch yourself 'Tennessee Kid Cooper' there's a new Marshal in town. Just got here from New York, goes by 'Thomas Tyler'." Then with a tip of his hat the boy was gone.