Zevran took out the parts he would need to do so, arranging them as he had for Michel's parts. He gave the man a look, a faint smirk and nod before he began to put it together. The base, the frame, the spring yet wound, the wire and plate for the trigger, the blades. Slowly and methodologically, little by little the trap came into shape. It took careful hands not to cut oneself on the wire and deft fingers not to overwind the spring, but he was certain Michel might manage it well enough.

More than simply show him, he spoke, covering each step, the hows, the whys. The care needed to avoid injury and a few possible variations once one knew the basic configuration well enough.

When time came to wind the spring he looked over to Michel's work, brow quirked. "Ready?"