Connor's heart is definitely working a little faster now, but that's to be expected. He's trained too long and hard to give in to hyperventilating or driving his heart rate up unnecessarily. "...Nothing. I just... forgot the damn water." He remembered the scotch, though, and he's annoyed at himself but somehow pinpointing home for water feels more embarrassing. So he opens the bottle and takes a swig of whiskey instead.

"You want me to switch to the European broadsword, or the katana?" His arms won't last as long with the broadsword and he knows it, but it's good to practice with other weapons, anyway.