The warmth of the bath clung to his skin as Travis stepped out, water dripping from his lean, powerful frame. Steam coiled around him like a lazy serpent as he dried himself off, but his attention was quickly drawn elsewhere.
He looked down at his clothing—torn at the sleeves, frayed at the hems, stained with dried blood and beast gore. His boots had lost their soles, and even his inner garments were hanging on by threads.
"These won't last me through the trial," he muttered, tugging at the collar of his shirt, which tore clean off with a small tug. "Even a strong gust of wind could strip me bare."
