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The hoodie is old even when they take him. It's just an article of clothing, something he shrugged on because it was chilly that day.Altaïr's robes are light. Lighter than someone would think from looking at them. They were designed for movement, and it shows.Desmond can remember the first time Altaïr wore them. He can remember the scent of the cloth, its texture, the way Altaïr's heart swelled with pride.Muscle memory guides his hands, the hood easily covering his head. It feels comfortable, easy.When he moves, he feels the phantom sensation of robes against his legs.