That says enough. Altaïr does not hurry away from the edge of the pit, but neither does he tarry. The dead will have to be enough for whatever will come to consume them.

The horses aren't far away. He supposes he should bring his back to its owner, lest he encounter better-prepared bandits who hinder his ability to do, but he probably won't. There's more to see out here. If necessary, he'll handle threats the same way.

Altaïr pats the mare on the nose once he's close enough and turns to face the taciturn man. He hasn't minded the silence, but he can't say he's not curious. "Do I get to know the name of a man willing to dispose of bodies with a stranger?"