He was hiding the evidence of something that is for sure. But he can't hide the copious bite marks and scratches that start at his neck and cascade down his back until they disappear beneath the towel. Most of them are concentrated on his ass which is still concealed, for now.

Max attempts a weak smile when he sees Dr. Watson. He's glad it's someone he knows and trusts, though it also means he's disappointing another friend.

"I don't think you need to worry about most of them. Maybe just the one... here." He turns to the side slightly while pointing to the missing strip of skin on the back of his neck, the place where a branded scar used to be. It's gone, but so is the skin that sat around it. Torn, not cut. It says a lot about Max's pain tolerance that he's able to sit there so calmly with such a gruesome wound. Unfortunately, the combined adrenaline and endorphins from his earlier escapade are waning and the pain is starting to set in. Already a slight tremor is starting in his limbs and he is definitively pale, right down to his swollen and bloody lips.