Sam knew he'd touched on something after he'd asked that question, and while he wasn't certain what he'd been expecting, he knew it hadn't been leveling down, either. Whatever that meant.

He leaned forward and peered at Scott, tilting his head. "I'm sorry, he did what?"

Shapeshifting? It didn't sound like it, though; it was pretty obvious when someone shifted as opposed to simply changing, and no shapeshifter in their right mind shifted so blatantly, anyway. No, this sounded more as if...as if whoever this guy was, he'd changed the way Sam's possessions had changed. The cell phone and his gun, they'd both simply transformed for no reason.

Hadn't there been some talk of people who weren't supposed to look the way they were? Sam had dismissed most of it at the time—it'd been crazy, even to him—but these days, he wasn't so sure anymore. It would fit, at least.

Still didn't explain why Scott chose to describe it using that particular term, though. Had his friend...shrunk? Regressed in some way? Jesus, he didn't even know. It had to be pretty freaking weird since Scott seemed a little more hesitant to talk about this than he had been earlier—though Sam couldn't tell if it was just because it was so bizarre that Scott was having trouble putting it into words, or what.

Either way, Sam's initial interest had definitely slid up several notches.