Maria keeps hold of the map, looking it over carefully for a few moments longer and committing it to memory as best she can. The land, the names, everything that might be useful information later. She may have left the Templars behind her, but years of military service and the value of tactical knowledge aren't things she'll be able to set aside.

Once she's memorized as much as she can, she folds the map and tucks it into her bag, briefly watching Altaïr from behind before moving to join him. He's walking better — good. The curiously focused expression, at least, isn't new. Perhaps he's feeling more himself.

"If you can find it, I may consider our score settled regarding past indignities," she says, a faint hint of amusement in her tone perhaps enough to balance the fact that, while they may be friends now and she can't bring herself to regret the events of recent weeks, she also hasn't forgotten what it was like to be trussed up like a game bird. "Whatever we may encounter here, I'd feel better knowing I could fight."