"Patience, patience," Renfew scolds in a sing-song fashion, wagging a finger in the air. After that, he'll go through the same process of touching his belt from just behind the drape of his cloak and then reach out to pick up the second dart. Again, he goes through the same song and dance — making faces at the target as he takes him, exaggerated gestures and all — before throwing.

Thunk.

Bullseye again, squeezed into the red circle at the center right next to the first.