Makoto's nose is luckily no longer broken by the time they trek out on their first lesson. He's traded in his Hawaiian shirt, lost tourist look from his first hours stuck here for much more appropriate attire. Puffy coat, a warm hat, neither make Makoto look any less clueless when he looks over at his new teacher's question.

"Uh." Makoto starts, clearing his throat and looking off in the direction they're heading before going on. The answer used to be nothing, besides what he'd gleaned from movies. When he does continue, Hickey gets to hear more of his strange accent in English. Clearly fluent and easily understood, but a mishmash of different dialects all fighting for the spotlight.

"Well, there are... snares, boxes with bait, and those ones that look like bear traps," Makoto sounds too confident, even with the quick glance he shoots to see if he's right on that much, "And you can't eat every part of an animal, so you have to cut them up."

Actually, he doesn't look excited at all for that last part. Clearly a city boy.