Azel carried the bundle of winter garments into the small side room, which he assumed was meant for bathing and changing.
The air inside was colder than the rest of the chamber, carrying a faint, crisp scent of snow and pine.
He unfolded the garments with a skeptical look.
The so-called "shirt" was nothing more than two long sleeves stitched to a band of fabric that clung to the shoulders.
His entire chest was left bare.
The only real piece of coverage was a scarf of snowy white fur which was dense, silky, and warm.
Azel's fingers brushed over it, recognizing the material that was used to make it..
"Frost wolf," he muttered.
It was unmistakable.
The same pelt his father Azariah wore proudly, well he couldn't say no to it though, even if it didn't have a head.
"Well," Azel sighed, "I don't have a choice."
He peeled off the rest of his Empire-styled clothing, folding it with care before slipping it into his storage ring.
