Altaïr wasn't bothered by the jab at his manhood, though once upon a time he might have been. He knew his tactics; he knew that it was better to wait until his pursuer finished blustering and made a move to either leave or find him.

He saw the man was tracking him; no need to hasten the fight that was already coming. If only this man could use his careful inspection where it really counted and see that Altaïr had no intention of killing him. Altaïr had to wait for his strength to return anyway, before he could do anything. That mask was a double-edged sword.