Author's note: So it's been a while... But I'm back. This should be updates about once a week, now, so that's cool. I've been swamped with work recently, so it's the best I can do. Anyway, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Not mine

He doesn't like horses, as it turns out. This isn't because of some innate hatred of animals, or even a fear of horses (though he knows that Marcurio will not get on one to save his life.) It's because horses hate Káno and there's nothing he can do about it. It's not even that the horses fully hate him, it's more like they just refuse to acknowledge his commands. Perhaps it's because they feel like they're the superior beings. He doesn't know for sure. But the one thing that he can absolutely be certain about is that they do not follow orders. At all.

This truly comes to a head in a Forsworn encounter, in which he needs a hasty getaway from a group of attackers who are just slightly stronger than he is. They've managed to get in a few good hits, and Káno can feel his side begin to drip blood as he calls for the horse. But the horse does not respond. It's stationed somewhere beyond the mob of Forsworn, and he can see it perk up its ears and continue to graze.

"She's a battle horse, this one," he remembers the words of the man at the stable, "and can get you out of a tight spot or two. Good investment for you adventuring types, if ya know what I mean."

Liar, he thinks, and continues to run. At this point it's kind of a futile effort, as the blood has managed to work its way down onto the ground, even through his armor, and is now leaving a trail. Káno regrets telling Marcurio to stay at the base of the camp. He's backed between a rock and a hard place- almost literally, though it's technically some Forsworn and a waterfall, which doesn't bode well for both the immediate and extended future. Káno calls for the horse a final time, and finally, finally, she looks over to where he is. Something seems to activate in the horse, as her head flings up, and she comes charging right towards the group of Forsworn. They turn to look, and with a scream some of them scatter. The few that stay to face the wrath of a charging horse are quickly trampled in her headlong charge, and none of them manage to get even a single strike in. It's almost laughable, how tough the horse is. But, Káno realizes, the horse isn't slowing down. If anything, she's speeding up, ears pricked and eyes wild. He comes to the conclusion, with a slight shock, that the horse does not, in fact, have any intention of slowing down or stopping. It's as if even the sight of his drawn weapon triggers some sort of fight or flight response. Káno fumbles with the sheath, but before he can even get the sword close to sheathed, the horse is upon him.

While Káno might not like the horse, at all, he isn't completely willing to let the animal plummet to its death over a waterfall. If anything, he gauges, he'd be the only one to survive such a plunge. And it's lucky that he makes a quick calculation as to possible places to angle for, because as soon as the horse begins skidding to a stop, and he grabs the reins, the horse bucks and throws him over the edge.

Falling isn't a pleasant sensation. And falling, particularly backwards, isn't something he wants to experience again in his lifetime. Preferably not in the afterlife, either. It isn't that the landing is hard, or that the water is cold. It's the stomach melting feeling of dread that appears as soon as he's airborne, and the sickening realization that the feeling might be the last thing he gets the opportunity to experience. And it's that knowledge that concerns him.

But fate can be kind to the travelers in the world, and he plunges into the water with the force of slamming into a wall. Not something pleasant, but something he's dealt with and has most certainly felt before. The issue is the armor, which weighs him down more than Káno would care to admit. It might, he mentally admits, be a while before he manages to get to the surface again. However, as he begins to attempt to remove one of the pieces of armor weighing him down, a dark shape enters the water, and Káno breathes a sigh of relief. Marcurio.

As soon as they're safely out of the water and, spluttering, lying on safe ground, Káno goes back for the horse. She's next to the shallow pool that the river drains out into, near where they actually ended up. He growls, grabbing the rope attached to her reins, and begins to lead her back to the area with Macurio.

Of course, he reflects, the whole situation could have been avoided if he had only chosen to not rely on the horse.

Or, perhaps, if the horse had been obedient.

Or, even, if Káno had chosen to bring Marcurio along.

Shaking his head, Káno clears his mind of the train of thought. It doesn't matter in the end, does it? At the end of the day, animals will be animals, and falling off cliffs will be dangerous, and he'll be Káno, the traveler with a disobedient horse and sulky mage companion.

He names her Diablo.