Clark stripped off with similar efficiency, putting aside his self-made weapon first before taking off the first layer of furs. Beneath was the tatters of his usual uniform; it became clear after he pushed them off that his 'boots' were merely his cape ripped in half and re-purposed. Even at that level, it was clear that Clark had not gone through unscathed.

His hands had been wrapped, revealing a number of rough clawmarks that had healed unevenly over his palm. Similar marks were all over his shoulders, his legs, one of his feet. As he tugged off the Superman suit, more injuries showed up. There were scrape scars on his knees, old healed blisters on his feet, more claw marks and even what almost certainly was a bite mark. Impact wounds were all over, scattered here or there. Everything was healed... but until he took a sunbath, his body would bear the marks of what he'd gone through.

Clark pulled off his clothes like he hardly remembered they were there before looking over at Bruce and wincing. The black and blue... dammit. What had he been doing? Throwing himself at walls?

"Dammit, Bruce. Did you forget how to dodge?"