None of them are awake. Hestu knows this. Hestu doesn't need reminding that the Koroks enjoy their rest. Hestu is trying Hestu's Bestu to fall asleep. Hestu recalls perfectly that the Koroks have designated the nighttime for rest, and the daytime for the whatever it is that they do.

Hestu doesn't want to think about that whatever. Hestu doesn't enjoy that whatever. That whatever is responsible for the rhythmless rustling in Hes head that makes Hes brows take root. The rustling is loud. It does not have the music.

MUSIC.

Hestu thought the word music, and Hestu is not at all trying to fall asleep anymore. Hestu thought the mantra, and the music was summoned, and Hestu can hear the beat in his head, but he does not FEEL the music right now.

Hes wooden eyebrows tighten even further. Hestu must feel the music. Hestu must feel the music right now.

Branches creak as Hestu rolls over and makes a mad waddle over to Hes Maracas. Normally Hestu would not have placed Hes bag so very far away, but Hestu rolled when trying to fall asleep, leaving Hestu and the Maracas bag separated by a full Hestu length.

Hestu feels the music once those hands take hold of the Maracas. The Maracas don't need to be shaken for Hestu to feel the rhythm. Once the wood of the Maracas touches the wood of Hes hands, the low knocking of tree and its long-lost branch bring to life those whispers of music Hestu heard but did not feel, true to Hestu but not real. Not until Hestu touched the Maracas. They are real now.

Hestu. Must. Dance.

The Korok seeds cascade their foreshadowing jingle as Hestu places his seeds in the Maracas, and raises a branch to the sky before a knot in Hes leg cries out and stops Hestu.

Brows furrow deeper. Hestu knows that knot. That's the reminder knot.

Hestu is now very upset. The reminder knot tells Hestu to think twice about making the Maracas sing while the moon is out.

Hestu must dance, and Hestu would point out that the need to dance does not rise and set with the sun. It is like the Great Tree's branches: always present, always strong.

This is not the first time this conundrum has shown itself. This is not the fortieth time the reminder knot has cried out.

It is the first time recently that the reminder knot has cried out. Hestu has been very good about not feeling the music at night. But the Great Tree informed Hestu know that the other Koroks enjoy their sleep and cannot sleep if Hestu is making music. Hestu, the Great Tree croaked, must satisfy Hesself with hearing the rhythm, and the Great Tree tells Hestu that hearing the rhythm and tapping Hestu's branches against the ground are good enough.

Hestu noted the litany of problems with this.

Clearly, the Great Tree does not not hear or feel the rhythm as much as Hestu does, or the Great Tree would not be saying this.

Clearly, Hestu did not make music, Hestu -feels- the music in the Maracas and sends it out. Hestu is as much affected by the music as are the Koroks. If Hestu were making the music, Hestu would be making wooden Hestu sounds, and Hestu is clearly not.

Clearly, Korok leaves would be better if they slept through the day, as their leaves would take in more sunlight if they faced upward during the day, like Hestu has always done. This would make the Koroks healthier and more energetic if they would just sleep more efficiently. That might make them dance more vigorously.

And Hestu was so perturbed that Hestu could tell the Great Tree none of this. Hestu merely brewed over the thoughts for a full moon cycle - a moon cycle during which Hestu was very obedient, where Hestu did not play the Maracas while the sun was down even once. This reduced the amount of time that Hestu was able to play the Maracas, but every moment the music flowed through Hestu was all the more precious.

The reminder knot lets Hestu know that the Great Tree will be very upset if the sound of Maracas blow through the forest. The Koroks, too, will be very upset - they were the ones who told the Great Tree that they were rustled by the music.

Hestu'ss eyebrows cannot become any more tense, though the would if they could. The strain makes its way through Hes trunk all the way to the ends of Hes branches.

Strained wood always provided better acoustics anyway, Hestu thought. Shakala. La. La. Lala. La.

Hestu must dance, and neither Great Tree nor little Koroks will stop Hestu. Hestu imagines this is what heartbeats feel like as Maracas bring life to the Korok forest, as the red moon gives way to white, as it salsas beyond the horizon.

Hestu must stop for a moment. Hestu is as vigorous as ever, but trees are not meant to move for a full night without cease, a fact Hestu knows full well runs contrary to his love for the music.

The dawn shows the silhouettes of Koroks, all massed near Hestu, all hovering with their special leaves. Hestu relaxes, seeing that this evening of music - under a full moon, no less - cannot have helped but bring the Koroks to understand the joy of the Maracas, the joy of the rhythm. And despite wishing that these Koroks could be greeted to the sound of sunrise Maracas, Hestu is far too tired to play (and the Koroks certainly cannot), forcing Hestu to put the Maracas in the bag and empty the seeds in the seed pouch.

The Koroks approach Hestu as the too large tree looks at his knotted leg and smiles. Even though they are approaching too quickly, they have come to appreciate Hestu's music. Hes eyebrows relax and outstretches Hes arms.

"Hellola, Korok-rok friends!"

Hestu is greeted by Koroks who jerk him skyward, his seed pouch spilling open, their contents washing onto the forest floor.