He gets a glare pointed right at him for the sarcasm, and it doesn't soften one bit at the thanks. (Okay, maybe it does a little.) Either way, the Soldier waves off the offer of a chair. "I'll help. Or do target practice." They finally shrug out of their coat-- the scarf went by the way-side before their tirade, so as to be clearly understood and also not potentially laughed at-- and even strip off one of their jacket layers. They do not, perhaps oddly, have a hat.

(Tried that once. Never again, after the panic attack it induced.)

They look around, folding the coat and jacket aside. "Why didn't you just go to the gym? It's ninety percent closer, and safer, than this."