Green light shimmers over him like a wave. He raises a hand curiously, fascinated as he watches it play over him, not unlike a malfunction in his skin. His skin is flesh and blood now, easily torn and bruised, fragile but regenerative.

Connor nods at him. "Thank you, I will keep that in mind." Knowing that this man will be able to repair him if he becomes damaged makes Connor especially eager to protect him from harm. Damage... It's the only thing that gives Connor pause. The odds are very good that he will be damaged in some way. He will need to be careful. Most damage could be repaired, he supposes, but... it will hurt. He'll feel pain, and there's nothing that can be done to prevent that.

One of the cultists has broken from the others. Surprisingly swift, they're dashing recklessly for them. Connor steels himself; he can't meet them head on. He twists the staff in his hands and prepares to trip him the moment he is within reach. It would give his allies an advantage.