"Nooooo," Zetta protested, without trying to defer her push in the slightest. Banished! Woe is he!

Token noise of protest aside, Zetta tapped his knuckles together in delight, already conjuring up potential outfits for her in his head. And then he set to work putting a backpack together, both to carry some extra clothing in case she got cold, and to carry any larger purchases back that she didn't want to just disappear into an arbitrary and nebulously-defined 'inventory'.