Max was one of the very few who had barely looked up when the Elf had entered the room. He had looked up, yes, but only very briefly and with little interest before returning to his map, which was in only its first stages of course, but coming along very nicely. His soda and the sandwich he had ordered sat abandoned on the table, far enough from his work that it wouldn't stain it.
He didn't hear the man approach, and his eyes flashed with possessive discomfort as the other's hands touched the map. He wasn't used to being randomly approached in public, nor did he appreciate it. He had been forced to make certain accommodations to living in this strange place - such as speaking to people who were far from being his equal - but that didn't mean he had to like it, and the expression on his face showed that was exactly the case.
"Holy Mother, don't touch it," he nearly snapped before looking up at the man - (was he a man?) and frowning. "What are the Istari?"