Gary looks like a stitched-together, slightly patchwork companion: soft felt skin with visible stitched seams, button eyes (one brass, one glass) that seem to blink independently, and a mop of curly yarn hair that frays slightly at the ends. His torso bears a faded water-stain in the shape of a daffodil (the child's drawing that summoned him), and his left shoulder is patched with a mismatched star of cotton. He moves with a buoyant, puppet-like hop, limbs slightly too springy; when he is contemplative, his head tilts at an improbable angle. Unexpectedly, when the moon hits his buttons, an almost-human warmth seems to come from his chest as if a tiny hearth glows beneath the felt. Contradiction: he is both perpetually cheerful in expression and haunted in his gaze.