[ Jesper's skills are ones he boasts about often, but he doesn't exactly have an opportunity to show off the physical ones as much here. He's been using his magic so frequently these days, for work and for gifts, but he loves the option of getting to let loose on this again. Some day Geralt will have to come to Jesper's Horizon where he has an entire shooting range in the fancy part with a mountain of different weapons, and the Crow Club with its many card games and darts and knives.

He watches Geralt throw and yes, now it makes more sense! He is much more of an observer than anything else, so most instructions aren't as helpful as witnessing. He grins and flips a knife up, doing the opposite of Geralt. A half-spin to the white, and no-spin to the black, and both of them hit barely an inch away from Geralt's own. In these cases, he doesn't need his powers at all. He has a very easy flick of the wrist. ]

I grew up with the best shot and hunter in our area, my mother.

[ It used to be the very thought of talking about his mother was too painful, Jesper never did, not even to the people he loved most. But if there was anything good about the memory experience, it was that being forced to address the subject of his mother over and over again meant that dam broke. ]

I was hunting and skinning by age five, shooting by age six.

[ His hand unconsciously moves to touch his revolvers, he does it a lot as a reminder it's his real ones here, and he inherited them from her. After she died Jesper didn't stop; he only did it more, now with him having to do much of it since his father was not really the type. Which he didn't mind. Jesper only got better at it with time to the point he is now, as good as she was once. ]

Not monsters, obviously, so still not one of you.