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Rustcry, born as Rustkit, was born into a bloodline of well-known and respectable warriors. His parents were always pushing him past his limits, challenging him and his littermates to play fights to test their reflexes. Who knew all that practice would pay off? By the time he was to be apprenticed, he had already been well knowledgeable on fighting stances and witty-thinking, much to his mentor’s surprise. Being from Riverclan, swimming was one of the aspects of clan life all members had that others did not. And, naturally, it would have to be a hurdle Rustpaw had to cross some day. But.. did it have to be today?
For moons, the young tom had successfully swayed his mentor many times from teaching him to get his fur wet. It.. It wasn’t that he was scared, Starclan, no! It was just…. he was still young—he still had time to learn at a later date! However, when his final assessment neared, there was a shortage of food in Riverclan territory. The lake hadn’t frozen, it was still warm in the middle of green-leaf, so what happened? Whilst accompanying his mentor and warriors with their own apprentices in a hunting patrol, the shadow of a gargantuan fish was seen hovering above the river’s bottom.
Finally, after moons of rumbling bellies, maybe they could catch something for the clan! The older warrior took charge in the hunt, being very careful as to not frighten the fish while also demonstrating to Rustpaw and his peers of proper fishing.
Alas, it was not meant to be.
Right when his mentor had reached in order to grasp the game, the fish violently thrashed about, so hard that the water began to foam. His mentor grunted and flailed about as the other warriors joined him in capturing their kill. The apprentices, and even Rustpaw, cheered and cried in glee for their mentors. The clan would be fed for moons with this beast!
As they whooped and laughed amongst themselves, one of the warriors must have slipped on the wet rocks because the fish had sprung free and it’s razor-sharp fins cut the fur of the gathered felines. His own mentor had been struck on his jaw, blood mixed with the warm water as he yelped.
The fish could have swam away. It could have left. Escaped.
Instead, the fish leaped from the water and struck several more warriors before hitting a blow on his mentor.
By now, the two of the apprentices had run back to camp while those who remained led themselves into the fight. Eventually, the patrol had pulled the fish out of water, and the apprentices began hacking away at the kill, even after it had died from being without any water. Their mentors scolded them something about how not to disrespect it and that Starclan had brought it to them and..
Rustpaw stayed at his mentor’s side while a medicine cat rushed to the scene.
The rest was a blur as far as Rustcry could tell. The apprentices showed their battle scars with pride as they told their tall tale of the skirmish with the beast. Mentors, while upset that they had gotten themselves hurt, could not ignore their boldness to kill the thing for the sake of the clan.
Rustcry didn’t know why he got to be made warrior early with the rest. Maybe they didn’t know? Maybe they pitied him for losing his mentor, and thought he deserved it.
He still hadn’t set paw into the blue depths. Not like he ever could.
After being accepted into warrior-hood, he had still not told anyone about his lack of a proper swimming assessment, and with the only cat who knows is with Starclan, most likely will never tell a living soul.