There was a hint of normalcy to it. Ever so slightly, and Emma put it out of her mind that she was convinced Stephen King dreamt this place up and threw every sort of horrific nightmare device he could think of into it. She'd just ignore those sensations for the moment and focus on the task at hand.
"We want a tailors or a hobby craft or something, right?" It seemed like the more acceptable placed that you'd find hat repair tools in. Especially if this was one of those more ancient hat things. She didn't know the first thing about hat making, as witnessed from her absolutely terrible attempt at making such a thing. She could barely even cook.
"Or a book store." She had to remember that, to be hope to the possibility of magic books that might tell her something about whatever this magic she had was. "So like, David landing on it didn't like...squash the magic out of it?"