[He wishes that was his carrier. His actual carrier is off in the woods somewhere busy getting in touch with its inner chocobot and is nesting and eventually it'll hurry back with a buzzing wark, but that's later. He looks at the pom (pom goes yip!!!) and then looks at her.]

No. Actually, I was starting to wonder if it was yours given how it persisted on following us [Him, but allow him his denial.] about. My own carrier is...

[...





Words. Words.]

Mechanical. [That's the word he said, but the tone was more like, "I am unsure about it."]