"It's something the militant members of my species get after completing training. You're supposed to pick something that you feel represents who you are as an individual. A small piece of rebellion, I suppose, considering we are typically a very group-oriented people."

Pellaeon sat behind Thrawn on the bed and studied the art now on display. The tattoo was massive, taking up most of Thrawn's back from his shoulders to the waistband of his pants. It depicted a fierce looking bird; its wings spread and beak open wide, and its talons extended as if it was about to snatch up its prey.

It was impressively detailed and colored a beautiful array of greens and purples; Pellaeon could only imagine that it had hurt something awful when he got it.

"So what's yours of?" Pellaeon was genuinely curious; it was rare that Thrawn spoke of his past. Thrawn however, only tensed and shifted uncomfortably at the question. "Assuming that I can ask that, of course."

"No, it's – you can ask, Pellaeon." Despite his assurances Thrawn's shoulders were still tense. "It's a depiction of a species of bird that's indigenous to my home planet. The name translates to Springhawk. They hunt by burying themselves beneath the thin layer of snow on the planet's surface and when they hear or feel prey approaching—"

"They spring up and grab it?"

"Yes." He could hear some mirth return in Thrawn's voice and he finally seemed to fully relax. "They are known for their unending patience in what they do, and their perseverance for surviving the harsh surface of their planet."

"Hm. I suppose that description does sound familiar."

"I should hope so." Thrawn turned around on the bed so he could look at Pellaeon. "Otherwise I would have wasted a very good artist's time."

Pellaeon hummed and pretended to be deep in thought. "I suppose that would be a travesty."

"Of a most impressive caliber. I'm so glad we agree."

That got Pellaeon to crack a smile, and Thrawn responded with his own small grin. He had to admit, it was nice to see the admiral relaxed for once in his life. Especially if it meant Thrawn was acting so relaxed around him. The thought made Pellaeon's face warm slightly and he glanced back down to the tattoo.

"All right." Thrawn's voice pulled him out of his wandering thoughts as the man picked up his undershirt and slipped it back on. "The peep show is over."

"What, already?" Pellaeon asked as he leaned back on his hands. "It was just getting interesting."

"A shame, I know. Perhaps, if time permits, we could continue this…" Thrawn paused and eyed Pellaeon curiously. "Artistic discussion later."

Something about the way Thrawn's voice curled around that phrase made Pellaeon's blush deepen. "I think I would enjoy that."