Chapter Text
Rusty was prowling through the forest, tinted blue by the moonlight. Shrubbery surrounded him from all sides, his flame-colored pelt glowing in the night’s light. Rusty parted his jaws to take in the scents of the forest. He was trying to scent prey, but instead caught cat scent. Rusty carefully prowled forward, following the scent trail. His exploration led him into a clearing.
Rusty saw two cats, a she-cat and a tom based on their scents. The night’s light, although illuminating, was too dim to make out anything other than the two cats’ silhouettes. The mysterious figures opened their mouths, as if in conversation. Rusty swore he could hear words, but the sound was too distant, too quiet, to make out any intelligible.
The silhouettes flicked their tails side to side as they conversed. The tom’s tail was flicking more often than the she-cat’s. After a moment’s pause, the figures nodded, like they had some unspoken agreement. If it was a spoken agreement, Rusty was too far away to tell.
They started to walk towards each other in an odd fashion. Odd, but in sync. Dancing. The word appeared in Rusty’s head. He was unsure where he heard it from. The silhouettes danced. As they danced they moved closer and closer until they were intersecting each other. Before Rusty could process what he was seeing, there was a bright, blinding light. The grass around the now pitch white figures were lit as brightly as if the sun had come down just to illuminate them. As soon as it started, it ended. The light was gone, and in the place of two cats, there was one.
Where did the other one go? As soon as Rusty finished his thought, the ground beneath him collapsed and he was plunged into darkness.
Rusty woke up inside of a hot, stuffy kitchen, curled up in his bed. Rusty had been having this same, endlessly repeating dream for the past moon. Rusty stood up and stretched. He had confided in his friend Smudge about it a few times before, but he always said the same thing: “You just have an overactive imagination Rusty.” As Rusty panned over to his water dish and took a few laps of the metallic, unappetizing water, he thought to himself about Smudge’s repeated words. Maybe, Rusty thought. I really do just have an overactive imagination. Nothing really changed for Rusty despite these recurring dreams. But as Rusty walked out through his catflap, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more than just his imagination. The morning sun was blinding, but only for a second as Rusty’s eyes adjusted. The grass was littered with shimmering puddles, created by last night's rain. Rusty then realized that he was up earlier than usual, a plan forming in his mind. Smudge always stops me from entering the forest… But he can’t stop me if he isn’t awake! Rusty beamed to himself vibrantly, as he crouched down with his hindquarters up, prepared to jump the fence. But, before he could, he heard a familiar greeting meow.
“Heya Rusty, whatcha doin’ up so early?” Smudge asked quizzically as Rusty sat up, licking at his chest. Rusty didn’t know why he even asked, he knew that Smudge knew his recent ambitions of entering the forest and hunting prey very well.
“I could ask the same about you,” Rusty replied, purring. Despite Smudge being… frustratingly caring… Rusty didn’t hold any major grudge against the tom, outside of some minor, friendly banter from time to time.
Smudge’s tail abruptly drooped, and he sighed. “I had’a bad dream last night.”
Rusty’s ears twitched with curiosity. Usually it was Rusty who dreamt, and as far as he knew, most nights were dreamless for Smudge.
“What was it about..?” Rusty asked.
Smudge closed his eyes as he described his nightmare, “I dreamt the forest started taking over my housefolk’s den. Leaves and vines slowly crept over everything I could see, til it was all green.” Smudge snapped open his eyes. After a moment’s pause, he looked at Rusty. “Did you dream about anything interesting last night..?”
Smudge’s usual glint of humor in his eyes when he asked that question was absent this time. “No, I didn’t dream anything,” Rusty lied, believing Smudge was still likely to tease him if he said he had the forest cat dream again. “But I thought of going out to the forest again-” Rusty started, before Smudge interrupted him.
“To try to catch a mouse?” Smudge completed his sentence with a smidgen of his regular, humorous tone. Rusty sighed, defeated. Smudge knew him too well.
“Well, I’m not going to try to stop you this time.” Smudge mewed. Rusty stiffened for only a second, before excitement started to fill him.
“Really..?” Rusty said, trying his best to not make his excitement too visible. He was doing a poor job.
“One day you’ll just ignore me anyway. Besides, I don’t think my warning about those forest cats sharpening their claws on live rabbits and eating bones really scares you anymore.”
Rusty purred as his whiskers twitched in amusement. “Don’t you mean, ‘sharpening their claws on bones, and eating live rabbits’?”
“Oh- uh-” Smudge stammered. “I wouldn’t have gotten it wrong if I hadn’t needed to warn you so many times!” Smudge was right, Rusty had heard that warning a lot, especially in the past moon. The story used to scare him in the past as much as it does scare Smudge now. Rusty stopped being scared after the first few retellings, but had still stayed away out of respect for his friend. But now that Smudge was giving him the option…
“I’m going to go check out the forest now,” Rusty said abruptly, as he quickly jumped onto the fence and then onto the soft grass below.
“Please! Be careful!” Smudge said worriedly, his voice behind Rusty as he ran.
Rusty slowed down for only a moment and looked back. “I will! I promise!” he yelled, turning around and resuming his run as soon as he was done speaking. Rusty ran, but not for long. Despite not running very far, he was quickly far past any area he had known for his entire life. He was surrounded by trees and shrubs, the sunlight only making it through the cracks in between the trees. Rusty slowed down. These trees were bigger than Rusty ever could’ve imagined. He was almost overwhelmed by all the new sights and sounds, but a familiar smell from dreams caught his attention. Mouse! Rusty instinctively entered a hunters crawl as he used his nose and ears to track the tiny rodent. The smell kept getting stronger and stronger, and its scurrying got louder and louder as well. The mouse was in sight now, and Rusty’s mouth was watering. He crouched down and lifted his hindquarters, and prepared for a big leap. But before he had the opportunity to pounce, something crashed into him.
Rusty was instantly pushed onto his belly, he felt claws in his shoulders. He had a clear view of his attacker. It was a gray tom. His yellow eyes met Rusty’s green and the tom’s flared with hostility, but not as much as Rusty expected considering the ferocity of his attack. Rusty, thinking fast, went limp. His belly was already exposed, he didn’t have many other options. Luckily, Rusty’s plan worked. The heavy gray tom above him loosened his grip for just a moment. Rusty kicked the tom into the air using his hind legs. “Hrumph!” The tom groaned as he flew through the air and landed onto the floor. Rusty’s instincts told him to turn and run, but he had a feeling this cat would give chase, so the second the gray tom got up Rusty jumped onto his shoulders, sticking his claws in as deep as he could. He felt the gray tom shake wildly, trying to get him off. Failing at that, the tom abruptly rolled, taking Rusty by surprise as he felt himself being crushed by the heavier tom’s weight.
Rusty flew his paws around, trying to claw the attacker to get them off. None of his blows landed. But to Rusty’s surprise, the tom got up anyhow, seemingly on his own accord. Rusty jumped, expecting to see a hissing cat prepared to take him by surprise. But instead, he saw a calm, gray tom licking his shoulder, all signs of hostility gone. Part of Rusty felt disappointed that their fight ended. But that was unreasonable. So instead, Rusty felt relieved that he wouldn’t have to continue fighting.
“You fight pretty well for a tame kitty,” the tom mewed. “The name’s Graypaw. What’s yours?”
Rusty stayed silent for only a second before answering.
“Rusty,” he answered.
“Rusty..?” Graypaw mewed, confused. “That’s a weird name.”
“Graypaw is also a weird name..” Rusty mumbled partially to himself, and partially as a defense towards Graypaw’s insult.
Graypaw appeared to take no notice.
“What’s a kittypet like you doing on Thunderclan territory anyway?”
“Thunder… Clan…?” Rusty repeated, confused.
Graypaw hissed. “Surely you’ve heard of the four clans that live in the forest?”
“Well I… certainly, heard that cats lived here…” Rusty mumbled, somewhat startled by the gray tom’s furiosity.
“There is Windclan, Shadowclan, Riverclan, and the clan I am a part of, Thunderclan!” There was a hint of pride in the tom’s eyes. “We patrol our individual territories. Well, Shadowclan doesn’t, they keep trying to enter our territory and steal our prey. Had you stumbled upon them instead, you would’ve been ripped to shreds!” Graypaw mewed loudly, stomping his paws on the ground dramatically.
Rusty grinned smugly. “Well, if you’re the most dangerous thing this forest has to offer, I think I’ll be fine.”
Graypaw stared at him, narrowing his eyes. “I’m still an apprentice. I’m training to become a warrior. This is my first day out actually, if I was a full warrior I would’ve given you some scars to think about!” Graypaw bluffed. “Things would’ve been even worse for you if I was in a fusion with-” Graypaw shut up mid-sentence and sniffed the air. “I smell my clanmates,” when Rusty tilted his head, Graypaw explained. “Cats from my clan!” he hissed. “You should get out of here, they wouldn’t be pleased if they find you here! On our territory!” Rusty didn’t hear nor scented any cat, but he decided to take Graypaw’s word for it, and began to turn away and run. But it was far too late.
“Graypaw.” Rusty heard a menacing voice meow accompanied by the sound of bushes rustling.
“Who is this?”
Rusty gulped as he turned around, accidently meeting blue eyes belonging to a tall, light brown she-cat. Her muzzle whitened with age. Next to her, there was a handsome golden tom. Both were staring at Graypaw. He crouched down. Rusty copied.
Graypaw stammered. “S-Streakstar… Lionheart, he’s not a threat. He’s just a lost kittypet.”
I’m not lost! The idea of him getting lost in the forest was one that upset Rusty, even though right now he absolutely would get lost in the forest if he were to explore it on his own. Which… was his original plan. You know maybe Smudge was onto something-
“You shouldn’t be so close to Twolegplace, Graypaw…” growled the golden tabby, narrowing his frustrated eyes.
“I know… I’m sorry.”
Rusty felt like he should apologize too.
“I-” he started, his voice squeaking like a newborn kit. He cleared his throat, and tried again.
“I’m sorry for intruding, I was just here for a quick mouse, surely there’s enough to go around…?”
Steakstar and Lionheart were looking at Graypaw, acknowledging his apology, but when Rusty finished speaking, Streakstar’s gaze snapped onto Rusty with a hiss.
“There’s nowhere near enough to go around!” she spat, her hostile gaze burning directly through Rusty’s pelt. “If you didn’t lead such an overfed life you would’ve known that!” Rusty instinctively took a step back as Lionheart got close to Streakstar’s side. “You threaten our clan when you steal our prey!” she yowled. “You hunt for sport, we hunt to survive!”
Graypaw was looking at Rusty with a horrified expression, revealing to him that he spoke too freely. Rusty kept taking steps further and further back, terrified at the prospect that Smudge's stories about these cats might be true. However, as quickly as it started, Streakstar’s hostility vanished. She signaled for Lionheart to step back. Graypaw let out a sigh of relief. Streakstar's eyes were now filled with interest.
“You thought well against Graypaw,” she began.
“Graypaw was more skilled and heavier than you, but you used your wit to push him back.” Rusty glowed at Streakstar’s complement, but she continued before he could thank her. “And… you chose to continue to fight Graypaw instead of running when provided the opportunity. Before you, I’ve only ever seen kittypets run in the face of danger.”
Rusty nodded as politely as he could. “Thank you.” he mewed quietly, managing to not stutter. Graypaw looked up, slightly confused, but he just simply nodded.
Rusty had so many questions, he couldn’t help but blurt a few out.
“Is your clan big?”
Lionheart answered him. “Big enough.”
“Are you all warriors and apprentices or..?”
Streakstar answered this time. “Most are warriors, some are apprentices, and the oldest cats are elders. We make sure every cat gets their fair share of prey.”
With every new bit of info, Rusty’s curiosity kept growing.
“What’s fusion?”
There was silence. Lionheart looked at Graypaw, narrowing his eyes.
“You shouldn’t have told an outsider all of this information Graypaw,” he hissed. Graypaw lowered his head.
Streakstar flicked her tail. “No, it’s fine.” she mewed calmly to Lionheart.
“A kittypet would of course be fascinated by the prospect of fusion.” Her gaze was gentle as it moved back to face him.
“Fusion is a very special skill that only clan cats possess. They can fuse with another cat, becoming one in a literal sense.”
Streakstar stood tall. “I myself, am a fusion.”
Rusty couldn’t help but continue asking questions like a young kit.
“Is it tiring?”
Streakstar shook her head. “No, especially not for me. I’m a ‘perma-fusion.’ Long ago I decided to fuse permanently with another cat.” Rusty opened his mouth to ask another question, but Streakstar appeared to have already guessed it. “No, I’m not stuck as a fusion, I just choose not to separate.”
Rusty was flooded with curiosity.
Streakstar looked again towards Lionheart, the golden tom met back her gaze. She eventually looked back at Rusty.
“What’s your name?” Streakstar asked.
“Rusty,” he mewed.
“Hmm… Rusty, would you like to join Thunderclan?”
Rusty was instantly stunned into silence.
Streakstar went on: “If you did, you would become an apprentice, and train with Graypaw to become a warrior.”
Graypaw opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but no words came out.
“Streakstar does not make this offer lightly,” Lionheart warned. “You would have to give up your comfortable ways, you’d have to live in the clan.” Lionheart paused, taking a look at Rusty once more. “It might be too much for you.”
Streakstar continued Lionheart’s words, “It would be a more difficult life, an uncomfortable life at times, but the rewards would be great. You’d be trained in the ways of the wild, you’d know what it’s like to have trees always overhead protecting you. You’d know the taste of fresh kill, and you’d always have the fellowship and loyalty of the clan with you, even when hunting alone.”
Rusty nodded, speechless. He wanted to yowl at the top of his lungs that he wanted to join, but he didn’t. This was a life altering decision.
Rusty tried to regain his composure, looking Streakstar in the eyes while he thought. What would Smudge do..? Rusty thought. Run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Rusty hissed to himself, that was not helpful. What is a question Smudge would ask if some cat asked him to join their clan and he actually wanted to join..? Rusty was about to hiss at his overly specific question also not providing any helpful ideas, but just then, an idea for a question appeared in his head.
“Why are you giving me this offer?” Rusty asked, narrowing his eyes. He hadn’t thought of it before, but it was somewhat suspicious that they were asking some random cat they just met to join their clan.
Streakstar sighed. “Too much warrior blood has been spilled recently. Thunderclan needs more warriors to survive.”
Rusty then made a decision that would impact the rest of his life.
“I will join tomorrow.” he mewed.
Streakstar simply nodded. “Whitestorm will meet you next sunrise.”
“Come on Streakstar,” Lionheart mewed. “Let’s not waste anymore time here,” He stood up and flicked his tail expectantly.
And with that simple gesture, the three cats disappeared into the undergrowth. Rusty turned around and started walking home.
Rusty’s mind was restless. Those dreams did mean something! It wasn’t just my imagination!
Tomorrow, he would no longer be Rusty. He’d be a warrior of Thunderclan! Or, training to be one. His head was whirling with thoughts.
Fusion… Fusion fusion fusion… The word repeated itself in Rusty’s mind for the rest of the time he spent with Smudge during his last kittypet day.