He lifts and ax, checking ht balance of it. He flips it over and over in his hand, catching the haft repeatedly. In the exact same spot. Every single time. At least he's got the balance of the tool.

"I don't have the trick anymore. I was born as something called a mutant. My brain reached out to other people's minds, copying their knowledge and skills. Throwing weapons is a skill. I just don't know if I have it. I can catalog my knowledge better than the muscle memory things."