He would get up and dress, placing on his armor, and readying his weapons. All of those he had special made, now adorned his gear. Even the blade that was his fathers, its sharpness well, and grabbed some other thing he kept. Placing it in her hand, and walking off a ways to ready his own traps.<br/><br/>Eyes would lock on the sky, and within the bushs, as he placed the special discs, carefull not to trigger them. " Stay over there till I am done. And when I whistle don't kill what you find coming." He placed the meat, and alittle extract from the bottle he placed.<br/><br/>He left that area, placing a peice of meat next to the bushes beside her. Took out a long reed, and played the music. Soon the bushes around them moved, quick movments, and the meat was gone. Crunching could be heard, then a light squeeling of the owners. Three velocos came rushing out, their heads bobbing, looking to them. He threw some scraps to each. " Good girls."