Miguel does give Dan a perceptive once over when he hands the tea, the sharp eyesight in the dark a quirk of his mutated biology. He did take his duty to others seriously, even if his thoughts on greater goods didn't always lead him to doing nice gestures like this. At the moment though, he wasn't complicating this beyond seeing the person in front of him besieged by the weather.

The frost has melted over Dan’s hair, though his skin still had its pale coloration despite the warm pack and the hot drink. Dan appeared to be having trouble with circulation. Miguel might have offered his own superfluous sweater - he merely wore something over his suit to break up the monotony once in a while, not for heat or comfort. But bundled up as he was already, one extra layer wouldn't do much.

"It'll protect you from having your fingers turn blue this time around." he says dryly, setting the kettle down. Multipurpose remedy. How Handy.