"The throwing knives kept his attention well. He was growing up and capable of focusing on more than one thing at a time, but every morning and as the sun came up, and every afternoon as it went down he practiced. Didn't even mind the glare, apparently it was even better practice because he had to learn to hit the targets by feel.
"Personally, I'm not sure it was all that useful considering the fact his targets never moved. Oh he made the most of it. Setting up a bunch of circular targets, hemp bags with a mix of wood blocks and straw. He had to replace them fairly regularly when they got cut up too much… but just by changing where he was standing in the yard it was enough to get a wide variety of angles. Just… he knew the area too well. I suspect had he ever been in a real fight with them… well… I suspect I do know how it turned out.
I really am spending longer than I think I'd like on Gaston... but I feel like I can't cut it short either. At some point Gaston became more than just "Zuhra's dead fiance" and turned into a real character and I can't bring myself to cut his mother's rambling short. I'd really thought we'd get to Zuhra by this chapter. It was originally called "has a love interest as dense as Gaston" but we didn't GET to that point.