A Purple Wrapper

I lifted the yellow yarn from my helmet and set it down flat with the paper cupcake liner. You had also mentioned a purple jacket for Wonka. I don't wear battle capes or fancy coats, but near the wicker basket, a smooth purple tissue paper scrap was resting on the wood planks. I unclipped my dagger holster and laid it down flat so both hands were free. I wrapped the crinkly purple sheet loosely around my shoulders and pressed the top edge under my gold chest armor to keep it pinned. It rustled like dry leaves when I moved. I sat down cross-legged on the floor, holding the white cotton swab cane upright in one palm. Nobody shouted any battle cries. I just watched my purple shadow in the noon sun.