Pale Rider? Death squinted at the person who he had thought to be another one of those very entertianing, gibbering peasants. On further inspection Death suddenly noticed the Presence around the man. It meant only one thing, and one thing only, a god. Or, rather, not a god, because this particular presence wouldn't get his own worshippers for hundreds of years. But it was a supernatural being. One particular supernatural being, actually, and one Death knew well.
"Satan!" Death exclaimed giddily, and threw his arms around the Adversary. It was an action which, had he been in his right mind at the moment, he would have been absolutely horrified about. He clapped Satan on the back in a very amiable manner, then pulled back a bit, his hands on the other man's shoulders to steady himself. "How are you?" He asked in a boisterous tone, "Still faffing about, yes? My goodness, I don't believe it's you!"