Meko watched Taylor as he moved around. He hated these weights. He wanted them off. He wasnâ€™t sure he wasnâ€™t just gonna to collapse by the time they were through. Be unable to twitch let alone move. He had an abundance of energy right now but his body moved so sluggish with these weights. He was used to being able to dart around and bolt from place to place like a bullet shot from a gun. This was new. He knew they served a purpose but didnâ€™t change he hated these weights. Hated them with a passion. He would keep them on though. He would show the man he dubbed Captain he was worth helping. That he was worth working together with.<br/><br/>He looked at what Taylor was doing. Listening as the man began to go instructor mode again. He listened to the points. Sighing about the weights coming in handy. He didnâ€™t argue though. The man knew what he was talking about. He looked around. Carry supplies...like the military or hikers did? Help an ally out of the line of fire and move quickly... He thought about it. He was certain he could have used being able to move even quicker when Taylor was hurt. When he was getting them to the copter. The very same copter he hijacked for them to escape from there. He understood the reasons even better now. He was using real life connections as well as personally experienced situations to understood correctly. Offensive while doing one of those two things? He blinked. That sounded difficult. Yet if Taylor said it was possible to do then he would do what he could to learn to be able to do so.<br/><br/>He looked at Taylor when called over and walked over to him. He hated feeling like a slug. Still he was determined to make it so these weights meant nothing. He blinked and stumbled as Taylor took ahold of him and directed him physically to the exact location he was supposed to stand. Quickly regaining his balance and once again was reminded of why he hated these weights. They had a very strong and important reason to be used...and he still hated them anyways. He wouldnâ€™t complain though. Well maybe in his head. He would learn to be up to the way he moved even with these weights. He wasnâ€™t sure how that would affect when they werenâ€™t there but he was certain it would be an interesting scenario.<br/><br/>He watched as the man began drawing bullseye targets upon the target people things. He noticed that there was two sets. One for the head and one for the chest. He memorized photographically in his mind what each of the lines and spots of the circle equaled. Following his gaze to the one partially hidden. Yeah. That one was gonna be a whole lot more difficult than the others. He had never aimed at semi-hidden targets before. He looked back to the in plain sight ones. Moving his fingers over the knives in his knife belt. He had enough for the six circles on the three targets in plain view. He would need to retrieve the knives before going after the partially hidden one.<br/><br/>He watched as Taylor drew three knives and started launching in quick succession. Without these weights he could throw almost as fast as that. With these weights he knew the knives were going to fly slower. He hoped he could be as accurate as he was without the weights with them. He was nearly almost to the point of being a sharpshooter knife thrower. He and the gypsy man who taught him to gain aim. He was certain with these weights would affect that aim as well. He pulled up three of the six knives in each of his hands. Holding them in a way that he could shift another one into his hands. He had to focus in on what he was doing. It been a few years since he had done this.<br/><br/>He took his right hand and launched the first knife where it spun vertically blade over handle and hit close to the bulls eye but not on it located on the head. He threw from his left hand and this blade spun blade over handle sideways and landed on the bullseye in the chest of the same target. He threw another knife from his right hand like it was a missile. It landed on the far ring of the target on the right. Hitting the far right of the chest. He threw from his left hand and it seemed to spiral in a straight line and it hit close to the bullseye but not on it. He threw from his right hand again and it spun blade over hilt horizontally again. It landed dead on the third target in the open in the chest. He took the final knife in his left hand and hurled it blade over hilt vertically towards the head of the third target in the open it hit on the second ring from the bullseye. In the exact place that would have been the eye.<br/><br/>He retrieved the six knives then went back to where he had to stand. He held two knifes up at the same time. His hands raising and lowering. He seemed to be using the knifes to hone in on where the half hidden target was. He then hurled with an expression of pain the knifes from the left and right hand. They spun blade over hilt towards the target. The other four quickly followed. Two went horizontally blade over hilt and the remaining two shot start as a bullet at the target. The results of the six knives was on managed to hit about half an inch from the center of the bullseye of the target on the chest. The other five hit in different areas and rings. Two on the top hit one in the eye and the other hit in the space between the middle and outer ring where the mouth was. The other two aimed at the chest hit near the shoulder on the way outer ring and right above the abdomin in the middle ring on the chest.<br/><br/>He panted and opened his eyes. Having used his memory for the last two. He was making an expression of pain. His arms fell to his sides. He was panting a bit heavy. He had sweat beading a bit on his form. It had been so hard to aim and throw these knives with these weights. He groaned in pain. â€œMy arms are going to fall off....â€ He panted out. Okay maybe they werenâ€™t going to fall off but they seriously felt like they were going to break off. â€œheh...my knife throwing friend might be proud of me. Told me to practice...been a few years since I thrown though. He and I trained every day with the knife throwing. Before I was caught shifting to a wolf I had been nearly almost to the point of a sharpshooter knife thrower. Speed and accuracy. I was his assistant. Cuz you canâ€™t afford not to be that way when you throwing knifes at people, objects they hold or have on their head or have by them. There is no room for error when you are doing a trick that could kill them as the worst case scenario if you make even the smallest error. Then...I lost the will to use it. He was the first to say cruel things because...I turned into an animal. So it been about four to five years since I last threw a knife.â€<br/><br/>He was being honest. Shaking his head. He held his arms limply at his sides. â€œProbably extremely rusty. The day I was chased off and treated cruelly because of my wolf was the last day that I threw a knife. So...it was actually nearly five or six years. Last time I threw was...eleven or almost eleven by human standards. Canâ€™t remember exactly.â€ He hung his head. â€œMy arms gonna snap off.â€ He said. He kept moving his legs. He was getting used to the ankle ones. They werenâ€™t as bad as the wrist. The wrist required more lifting and angling and what not. Ankles you just lifted and lowered.<br/><br/>He lifted his head and looked at Taylor. â€œSo...how I do?â€ He asked. Looking hopefully at Taylor. Hoping the Captain thought he had done at least good at the knife throwing at targets thing.