Username: Griffin Torrens
Name: CSK's One For Sorrow | Sroka
Gender: Male
Name Meaning: Sroka is Magpie in polish, and the show name comes from the saying surrounding the number if magpies you see! There are a few different versions but I was always taught one for sorrow, two for mirth, three for a wedding, four for a birth. The original is three for a funeral.
Prompt:He could still remember the day he'd found it. His travels had taken him to a clean cut track, the grass on either side immaculate. Trees stood proud in an unnatural line, leading his eyes towards a strange human house, it's size almost incomprehensible. It felt untouchable, and Sroka hesitanted, worried he might taint it with the dust and grime clinging to his pelt from the city he'd just left. Yet before he could turn to choose a new path, a breeze guided the clouds alway and the sun's rays reached the earth. Something glimmered down the path, instantly catching Sroka's eye.
He'd always felt a calling towards those that glinted in the light, reflection it back in a dance of colours. Yet they'd never done more than admire them, the urge to collect them squashed down by their need to travel, having no where to store such items. Curious, he padded down the path, relishing the sunlight warming his colourful fur. Half an eye scanned his surroundings for movement that wouldn't tell of danger, but as soon as he was close enough to the item his attention was fully entrance.
Green strands branches around a stem, framing what seemed to be an iridescent blue eye. It had hints of a burning fire, the blue center surrounded by reds, golds and purples. Reaching out a paw, he felt it's soft surface, a tingle running down his spine as the colours shimmered back at him, the picture morphing like a reflection in water as the strands bent around his pad.
A feather?Bending down to inhale the scent, Sroka blinked in surprise to realise he didn't recognise the creature. He looked around, hoping to capture a glimpse of what just be an equally magnificent and shiny creature. Yet all he spotted was a door opening, a human shooting him a dirty look. Knowing where that would lead, he quickly scooped up the feather in his jaws delicately and flew off the property with speeding paws.
It was such a curiosity and marvel that he couldn't bear to abandon it. Thankfully luck was on his side as that very evening he stumbled his way into a new family, feather and all. Sroka's collection grew now it had a permanent home, a
nest. Yet none of it shone with quite the same intrigue and mystery like the unknown feather. It sat alone, much like he often felt himself. The collie is trying hard to turn his solo adventure into a companionship, and hopes one day he'll be able to lay his eyes upon the owner of that feather, maybe even finding it a friend itself.
(Peacock feather)