She has to give it to him, he's improving. Day by day, so much more skillful than he'd been in training camp, moreso still than when they had fought in the forest of giant trees (of course, he'd been blind with grief and rage at that point, but nonetheless). She's presently just pleased that he hasn't come to some startling, sudden realization of how similar these fights and how similar that one fight had been. She was actually quite pleased that he had been blinded by grief and rage, then—it obscured her from him, hidden in the blind spot of his vision.

He'd been holding his own well, but a moment's distraction was all she needed (again, just like in the forest). She topples him as easily as she had then, turning away from him crumpled on the ground to roll her shoulders loose. When she turns back to Eren and Maya, she is completely impassive—unfazed by the familiarity of Maya's face or the blood that Eren's spit into the snow.

Annie's looking at Maya pretty critically. She could mutter that a 'jab hook' doesn't even make sense, but she thinks it would just be wasting her breath. Instead she addresses the girl, "You lost Eren that round, Maya." A threadbare smile passes by her lips, for just a second.