Like he normally did, Linus went fully from a state of being asleep to one of being awake. Staring up at the canvas tent, his sleeping bag wrapped tightly around him, his mind lost in a tizzy of thoughts, he tried to sort out what had brought him to such a state. Ideas for stories coming to him, forming, then disappearing back into his consciousness, teased that maybe this was what had awoken him and nearly crawling out of the sleeping bag, he stopped as something else came to mind.
Thoughts of the father, the mother, the sister, all explaining, repeatedly, that he shouldn't be up and about when it was dark, when it was time for the cycle of sleep, coming to him, he snuggled deeper in the sleeping bag. Cuddling the plush, a purple unicorn pony that the father at first had an issue with but then calmed down when the mother spoke to him about it, Linus tried to will himself back to the state of sleep.
Yet, there was something that prevented him from doing so. His thoughts roiling about, the need to go to his notebooks, mechanical pencils, artist erasers and pens growing stronger, something in his mind leapt and a brief connection was made. Recalling that the mother, the sister and the father didn't want him wandering around at night, he suddenly remembered their insistence that if he needed to go, he should do so, but refrain from soiling himself in anyway. A pressure in his abdomen helping to make the connection between these thoughts and his need to make water, and Linus understood what it was that had taken the cycle of sleep from him.
Slowly wiggling out of the sleeping bag, he crawled across the tent and unzipped it. Exiting the temporary canvas domicile, he stood, stretched and was about to go find a place to make water when he stopped. Again, he was troubled by his thoughts and that he was missing something the father, the sister and the mother had told him he must do in situations like he was facing. Starting to get over stimulated, the need to make water growing, he hooted softly, reached back inside the tent and picked up the plush unicorn. Hugging the animal close, he hooted and rocked back in forth as he attempted to bring forth the insistent message they wanted him to follow. Thinking it might be about getting dressed, he gazed down at the pyjamas he was wearing, blue and white and with ponies, his favourite pair, but didn't think that was right.
Nearly at the point where he was sure he'd eventually soil himself, Linus gave up. Stealing quietly past the sister's tent, he crept into the woods, looking for a place that was proper to make water. The moonlight providing ample enough light, Linus stopped after a bit, set his plush to one side, hooted, "Purple unicorn pony," at it, then turned away.
Not a second thought crossed his mind as he promptly pushed down his pyjama pants to his ankles, grasped himself lightly, aimed and, after a second or two, began relieving himself on a tree. Afterward, when he was certain the pressure in his abdomen had passed and that he no longer needed to make water, or ran the risk of soiling himself, he pulled up his pyjama pants, turned and picked up the plush animal. Looking about, suddenly unsure where he'd been sleeping, a need for the sister, the father or the mother washing over him, Linus hooted, "One new message," before deciding on a direction.
Thoughts scattered, rapidly leaping from one thing to the next, odd connections being made, then lost, Linus walked in the direction he believed he'd come from. Slowly, the darkness gave way to a faint, grey light, then, gradually, morning. Unable to make the connection that he was likely lost, Linus continued his journey toward where he was sure the mother, the father and the sister temporarily lived. At one point, he thought he saw a couple wolves and a man that looked someone out of one the comic books he read once in a great while, complete with a tail and a pair of ears. But, before Linus could get a good look at him, the man disappeared and the nineteen-year-old soon lost interest and forgot about what he saw.
Eventually he came upon a building and stopping, he hugged his plush unicorn tight and stared at the structure. Connections within his mind that would baffle most were made as he tried to figure out how and why the sister, the mother and the father had changed the canvas temporary domiciles to one being made of materials the permanent domicile was made from. Hooting softly, "Heard tell this land of plenty was now," he rocked back and forth a moment before taking a couple steps closer.
Stopping after a bit, the need to return to a sleep cycle came back and he opened his mouth to express the need with a deep yawn as he gazed at the building. Gently rocking back and forth, going from the balls of his feet to his heels, then back, he fiddled a moment with the side of his pyjama pants, then began moving his fingers in a motion that looked like he was either counting or playing a piano one-handed as he tapped the air. Thoughts muddled, nothing making sense, he was sure he this was were the father, the mother and the sister were supposed to be, yet their tents were not present. Taking the last couple steps toward the building, he reached out, grasped the door knob and pushed open the door easily.
Beyond where he stood Linus could see a nicely decorated room. Making the another hooting noise, he stepped over the threshold. Looking about, overwhelmed, overstimulated and feeling the need to return to the sleep cycle, he hugged his plush tightly. Wondering where the sister, the mother and the father could be, he hooted out, "Unicorn pony," in hopes of drawing them to him.
When none of them answered, he drifted over the couch and laid down. Cuddling the plush close, his thoughts roiling, he stared out at the room. After a moment, he yawned, hooted, "Unicorn pony," a second time and when the mother, the father and the sister still didn't answer, he squeezed shut his eyes. Breathing starting to even out, it wasn't long before, like he normally did, he slipped completely from a state of being awake to one of being fully asleep, blissfully unaware of what he he'd stumbled upon.