[Wow she does look cold. Not enough he's going to let a stranger force a hug, but enough he's willing to do something about it. The fight is over, it's probably safe to take off his flak jacket for just a minute.]

[So he sighs and squirms out of it, then takes off the black tactical jacket underneath. There are some acid holes in the sleeves but they're mostly intact. The acid already burned through his skin and isn't really lingering there.]

[He drapes it over her shoulders so she can put it on. It's a little sweaty and rank but so was climbing under his arm. It's at least mostly dry and warm, made of some kind of moisture wicking material.]

Okay, first of all, you look way too young to be out here. How old are you?

[He shrugs his flak jacket back on.]

And why didn't they send you out with the proper gear and clothes?