He waves his hand in front of his face, trying to make it cooler.
“It’s bloody hot in here.” He rubs at his neck, at the leather cowl that covers it and protects it from the metal of his armor. Then he looks at her, as if just noticing her in his discomfort, and adds, “—You don’t look hot.”
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“It’s bloody hot in here.” He rubs at his neck, at the leather cowl that covers it and protects it from the metal of his armor. Then he looks at her, as if just noticing her in his discomfort, and adds, “—You don’t look hot.”