"Consider me grateful." In the short time he's known her, Vex has come off as the de facto head of this little group. She controls the coin, does the negotiating, and isn't shy about sharing her opinion on what they should be doing with their time. It holds here as well

When she comments on his clothing, he groans - not in a sexy way, without any blushing. "I'd ask them to burn it, if I had anything to replace it with. I'm not sure any of my clothing is salvageable."

And then there's a room with inset shelves for storing clothing and weapons whilst bathing. Percy turns away from Vex, hoping to give her a bit of privacy, and folds each item he takes off before setting it away. He's dawdling, he knows, taking too much time to pull off his boots so he doesn't have to unbutton his shirt, but the conversation around his torso is never a pleasant one - and things have been strangely pleasant so far. He'd love for them to stay that way.

Eventually, he ends up stripped down to the skin, wrapping a towel around his waist for modesty, and decides the best option is likely to pretend there's nothing notable about his appearance. Vex might ask, but she'll have to be the one to bring up the ugly terrain of scarred flesh, every cut on his body too straight and clean to be naturally acquired. Affecting a bright voice, he turns back to her and starts walking toward the door into the bathing area. "Shall we?"