It was enough to reassure Gren that Altaïr was a man of conviction but not a man with intentions of malice. He'd been in enough battles to know that violence was tool that sometimes had to be wielded in order to survive, and to ensure the survival of others. While he sometimes admired his comrades' cold efficiency, he'd never been able to divorce himself entirely. He wasn't sure which was more valuable.

Startled for a moment by the man's abrupt departure, Gren nevertheless started after him, listening intently, the corner of his eye taking in the busy street with a mild feeling of apprehension. Walking seemed like a strange introduction to fighting, but he wasn't about to openly question Altaïr's methods so soon.

"I'll do my best," he answered, his eyes already picking out places he might get in trouble.