Connor's spent the last five years doing pretty much that, so this is a vast improvement. He looks meditative, calm and focused.

Conversation is allowed, though. "It belonged to my first teacher." That sword is older than Connor is. He keeps up the pattern of kata as he talks, then switches up the order of the poses, just to throw her off. "I started with a claymore, but... those are no good for close combat, or for anybody who isn't as strong as an ox." He smirks faintly. Ramirez had a hard time convincing him that his family sword wasn't a superior weapon, especially for a skinny nineteen-year-old.