The boy tried to scream but found himself gagged by the hands of the Seamstress, who dangled a pair of grey sweat socks in front of his face.
He waved his hands terrified for any sort of response, but not his workaholic mother nor anyone nearby responded.
"You're a little rambunctious aren't you? Too lively I say, let's see if you can Plain Down a little. Here, I'll give you a present"
Holding up a rather generic darkish-grey hat, of no recognizable brand or style, she plopped it onto his head. Like a downpour, the changes slowly spread and before he could even process his lower body's warping, his expression dulled.
