"Every time I do it when I'm humming that song," Heather confirms. "If I did it while I was standing in the waves, the colors and texture would be different. Or if I was swimming in the deeper parts of the sea, that would be different from both."

She shrugs. "If I make the cap and it doesn't work to change me back, then I unravel the work and try again. Maybe I could make something else with the yarns that don't work..."

The tag-along Samurott is poking at some of the fluff that remains on the ground. When he raises his head, it sticks to some of the barbs on his shell armor, which startles him. He gives a surprised cry and pulls away more sharply, gets tangled even worse, then crashes sideways to the ground.

"Oh dear!" Heather cries out.