Even didn't run to the storeroom. If anyone asked, his strides were always that long. He had dust in his everything and the tables were definitely not making the most efficient use of the available space, no matter what Ienzo said.

Any other reasons for finding a drink appealing would only get worse if he thought of them. So he didn't. (This didn't work particularly.)

It did, however, motivate him to ignore the crowbar entirely and pry open the crate with the spikes of his shield. When he got a look at the contents, his eyebrows rose. "I was under the impression that this was a tea shop, not a bar," he called over his shoulder.