Tatter was a wanderer, one that many regarded as a bit of a rogue, a "riff raff" sort to speak.  Fate lead him to the small vale that Talia and her two Serians, SilverRain and Bridle, lived in. It was almost as if there were some inner drive forcing him to put one foot forward, step by step in the direction of Talia's small farm, inching his way there. And it was a good thing that fate forced him there, for he was in dire need of her assistance.

 

He stumbled, slightly shaken, not quite realizing what had happened to him. A long trailing wound lay open and bleeding across his neck, and every movement was agony. He couldn't remember anything, only his name... his past was completely and utterly erased from memory.

 

He whinnied, the sound echoing through Talia's yard, a pitiful sound, a last ditch effort to be noticed by someone. He faintly heard the thudding of hooves before he slumped lifelessly to the ground.

 

SilverRain and Bridle, fresh from the fields, galloped along the hilly plains surrounding Talia's territory. SilverRain tossed his mane in delight and soared above his father, delighted that he had an advantage over his sire. Bridle just snorted and galloped all the harder, determined to show his young son up, and curb his youthful cockiness. He stopped abruptly, mid gallop, dust flying in all directions at the sound of the whinny. Silver landed beside him, his face showing concern.

 

"Father?" he asked. "Where is it?"  He too had heard the call for help, the plea for assistance. Without answering his son, Bridle took off in the direction of the cottage, instinctively knowing where the other lay.

 

Silver, at the sight of the wounded Serian, called out to Talia for help. The slender woman came rushing out of the cottage, medical bag in hand... she was used to her own Serians becoming foolishly injured. Rushing to the other's side, she tended to him, certain that he would be alright thanks to her skill... treating wounds was her area of expertise.

 

~~~

 

Over the months, the Serian healed, and began trusting his new found family. His amnesia still remained, and although he only remembered his name, it didn't seem to bother him that his entire past was forgotten. He did dwell on one thing though... the incident that lead him to Talia's house. Something told him it was important, something told him that a large portion of his memories lay with that one moment, that one instant in time. And no matter how hard he tried, he could not unlock it, could not open the door to the memories that his mind kept safely hidden under lock and key.

 

Tatter, as he had later told his new found bondmate was his name, became a prideful stallion, always yearning for the wild, the outside world always calling to him, always beckoning him. He generally stayed away from his other Serian counterparts, preferring instead to do things on his own, to explore the wild that he felt he belonged to in his desperate attempt to discover himself.

 

Talia watched her bonded Serian with growing alarm. He had no identity... and he was so intent on finding it, that he isolated himself from the world, making it his one and only goal. She would always be worried about him... her free spirit...