resting again when the quarry paused

An air of impatience hung about the man, and the boy, about Bvlgari Watches seven or eight years old, looked anxious to please. The father carried his shotgun, ready to fire. The son's gun was broken apart and awkward to carry as he struggled out of the brush. They wore matching plaid jackets and billed caps with the earflaps down against the chill. We leaned forward to listen to their conversation in the stillness. With practice and concentration over the years, I was now able to decipher their speech.　　"I'm cold," said the boy.　　"It'll toughen you up. Besides, we Bvlgari Watches haven't found what we came for."　　"We haven't even seen one all day."　　"They're out here, Osk."　　"I've only seen them in pictures."　　"When you see the real thing," said the man, "aim for the little bugger's heart." He motioned for the boy to follow, and they headed east into Bvlgari Watches the shadows.　　"Let's go," said Igel, and we began to trail them, keeping ourselves hidden at a distance. When they paused, we paused, and at Bvlgari Watches our second such stop, I tugged on Smaolach's sleeve.　　"What are we doing?"　　"Igel thinks he may have found one."　　We moved on, resting again when the quarry paused.