Disclaimer: All of Assassin's Creed belongs to Ubisoft Entertainment.

Because if you're as attached to a certain set of pixels that make up the horse like myself in that game you named it and use that one each time.

Altaïr heaved a long heavy sigh as he sheathed his sword and turned, placing thumb and forefinger into his mouth to elicit a long and loud clear whistle. Around him the bodies of several soldiers lay upon the ground in their own pools of blood. This particular group hadn't let up when the assassin had chosen to run off on horseback. Instead they had laid a simple trap ahead with another guard station, slashing at the legs of his horse as he attempted to ride by in the narrow pathway.

Hoof beats filled the air as the dark-furred creature limped up to his master loyally. The front leg was bleeding slowly thought it didn't look like it was a too fatal of a wound to the eye... Still there was always the chance it would get infected... If that happened Altaïr may have to put down the poor beast...

The man patted the horse's muzzle as he nickered and bumped his nose into Altaïr's chest. "Rest now, Abrar..." The man murmurs as the horse, Abrar, nickered at him again. He didn't want to lose his loyal steed after having had him for so many years. It was one of the few things that Altaïr was emotionally attached to, after all.

"C'mon, Desmond, time to get out." the faint voice of Lucy coaxes sounding far-away and distorted. His vision began to blur from that of the kingdom's territory about him and into that of the cold steel and white Abstergo lab he was stuck in. The dark-haired man gasped as the visor slid around and back into the Animus machine before he jumped up into a sitting position hurriedly, rubbing his temples from the horrible headache he was receiving.

"I hope your happy, Ms. Stillman! There's still so much we could have done today!" Warren shouts and grumbles to himself in anger as he stalks out of the room via the giant sliding doors.

"What was with that last memory, Lucy?" Desmond inquires, still rubbing his temples and not looking up as the blond woman fiddled with the Animus computer.

"It was just a scrap memory that you ended up recalling while you were in the Animus." Lucy answers simply, calmly. "It had nothing important to do with what we were doing though, just forget about it, okay?"

"But..."

"Believe me, Desmond. That memory has no importance attached to it." Lucy reassures, or at least she thought she was as she continued working on her computer. "It was just about a horse. Just a horse."

Desmond's frown increase as he glanced up at Lucy. For his time in Altaïr's memories he was growing more and more into the man's mindset. Starting to see how he functioned easier and gathering a similar mindset of his own. Desmond knew what made Altaïr tick.

"His name was Abrar." The man protested, irritated at the woman's lack of concern for the horse that allowed Altaïr to get to Point A to Point B. It was the same with any instance really, all that history cared to teach were the names of the 'great' ones... Half the time even the victims faded away into obscurity...

But if it hadn't been for those victims... Or in this case, for that very horse taking Altaïr to each and every one of his missions he would have taken longer to get there - the events would have panned out differently...

"Desmond..." The subject was dropped and Desmond was disheartened to find that in his next memory with horseback riding involved to get from Point A to Point B Abrar was not the one taking Altaïr to his next destination... In fact, Abrar could not be found in the Masyaf stables at all...