He's about to say no, absolutely not, but Hilda continues and he listens. There's a fondness and nostalgia in her tone that Altaïr has never heard before, and it eases some of the bristling she's prompted.

The scene she describes sounds utterly mundane, but the way she describes it is as though it's something personal and precious. Maybe because it's a memory of family. He wouldn't know.

"I doubt that will be the case unless you decide to be even more foolish than usual out of stubbornness. Here, let me show you."

He explains as best he can without being able to demonstrate (it would take far too long for him to dive and climb back up the cliff), attempting all the while to remember his own teacher's words. In the end it comes down to body positioning and calm thinking and, ultimately, faith.

Altaïr looks at Hilda, and looks down at the water. It's not so very far below, but it might seem so to a first-timer. "Are you ready to try?"