Sef is still making enough noise to wake the dead, even with Maria desperately rocking and jigging him in her arms to try and settle him. He's loud enough that Maria misses the first two uses of her name, but she goes goes completely rigid at the third and reaches instinctively for Darim before it registers just who it is who's calling for her. For a split second before relief writes itself plainly across her face as she recognises the man tearing across the street towards her. There's no mistaking him for Altaïr this time; she knows her grandson.

"Oh thank god, Desmond! I was hoping- oh please Sef, calm down, it's alright..."

Darim, realising that it's not Baba running towards them, has suddenly gone shy and goes scurrying back to her mother and clings warily to her leg, peering at Desmond with all the curiosity of a kitten.