"Only when I am away from home," Hector answers, checking his sword for dirt before sheathing it and resting it against the tree. "Glass is difficult to travel with, you see. Bottles are awkward to carry and prone to breaking. A properly cured and washed skin or bladder, in my experience, is much more practical." He's fully aware that he could merely gather the pieces of a broken bottle, tap into his magic, and repair it as necessary, but he feels that's more hassle than it's worth. Even then, he would have lost whatever water had been inside it.

That, and it doesn't occur to him that more proper means of carrying drinks have been invented since his time.

Rising from his pack, he extends one of the two vaguely canteen-shaped skins toward Firo. The edges have been hardened and laced with a leather cord, its mouth corked like a bottle of wine.