It shrugs, a gesture that apparently indicates the extent of its concerns about this - it's pretty sure that it's going to ruin this jacket eventually, with more tears or monster blood or something else. It still needs to get used to the lack of fabric recyclers. "Sure."

... With one exception. When Jack holds up the fabric for inspection, it comes back into touching range, to get a feel for the fabric on offer, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger as its expression goes momentarily contemplative. "Yeah, that works," it declares, letting the fabric drop as it steps away again.