Pain was not something he was accustomed to. The searing feeling rang through his hands and knees and he did his best to breathe through the strangely unpleasant feeling.

“I’ll be fine.” Connor sat back onto his heels and dusted both off each hand with the other.  A small gash was evident at the heel of one of his palms and royal blue colored blood started to seep through the open cut. A minor injury. Connor glanced at it but seemed fairly disinterested. It would heal within a few seconds, surely.

He began to unroll his sleeves, trying to be mindful enough not to get shirt dirty. “It’s difficult to judge what I physically can and can’t do in Asgard until it’s too late." He informed, "I would ordinarily be able to drop down from that height with no issue.”