Orsusk laughed to himself thinking, "Crossk is as impatient as ever." Orsusk polished his rifle although it was already perfectly clean, it was an old habit he was yet to break. His Tenloss had never failed him before, but he felt more comfortable knowing his equipment was in top condition for the hunt. And even the slightest amount of stress on a sniper could mean the difference between a clean kill, and a casualty.
Orsusk never really had a vendetta against the wookies like most Trandoshans gained from the years of story telling. He was purely in it for the sport, which did not sink into the skulls of most of the Dosh he had met. But he had hunted with Crossk before, and he knew that Crossk was in it for a different type of thrill. A thrill that chilled Orsusk just thinking about it.
No time for that now, concentrate on the hunt ahead!
Good... Bad... I'm the one with the gun.
Hail to the King Baby!!