Uh, yeah. They're very alive, Cass. [ Why is this giving him that creepy-crawly under-his-skin feeling? They're just fabric dolls, they're not real in the way that all the monsters he'd fought were definitely real. Gods, Percy, get a grip.

Percy lets out a steadying breath, deliberately looking away from where Annabeth has just picked up the doll off the seat. ] Pretty sure one just ran past me, and that one wasn't there when I came in either. They might be rounding up, plotting something.

[ They're definitely plotting something.

So they don't have nets or maybe protective jars to keep them from touching each other and becoming one conglomerate doom doll or whatever, but Percy had thought to bring a sack (with drawstring) with him to keep these dolls in one place at least so they don't have to go around town walking around with them or risk a doll suddenly growing teeth and gnawing on their hands.

He holds it open now so Annabeth can deposit the doll and then gestures with his chin to the place where he'd heard the slamming of a cupboard door. ]

There's one in that cupboard.