The boy watches closely, determination set in his features and jaw a bit clenched as he sees how Zevran moves. It was really a lot different from the haphazard flailing he'd done on the streets, robbing someone or getting away from dangers.

This was killing, and he's glad he had learned to use a bow before he became a scout, or he'd probably been useless in a real fight.

His fingers tighten a bit around his daggers, and he starts following the way Zevran moves - the twist of a dagger, the block, the parry... it's not graceful or smooth, but he's stubborn. He'll get it.