The worn blue bag was nestled in with all the leaves and dirt; folded in at the back corner where the newest addition to the family usually slept, between the stash of human food and Verne.
It had taken a lot of convincing to get RJ out of his tree; and for some reason it was almost heartbreaking, watching him climb down and edge almost warily toward the cozy den.
"Are you guys sure?" he'd asked with a grin that fell short. "I mean..."
And the way that he'd picked at the strap of that ever-present bag, the only home he'd ever had, might've been what led Hammy to reach out and take his paw and the triplets to push and tug him inside.
"It's just, I might wake you guys up all the time," he'd continued a little helplessly, glancing at Verne over his shoulder as he was dragged into the log. "I don't sleep as well at night- "
"You could try to get used to it," Verne said. "For our sake, RJ." He didn't like the thought of their raccoon awake while the rest of them slept, alone with his thoughts and a constantly wandering mind. RJ was notorious for his snap-decisions and nomad's spirit, and Verne was determined not to lose him to either.
He chose the right words to say, and RJ's face softened as the porcupine kids snuggled up close, and the rest of their family settled in around them. His eyes were bright in the gloom as they flickered over to Verne's face, and the turtle had no doubt RJ could see right through him.
After a moment's hesitation, RJ conceded. "I'll try."
He was always awake when Verne drifted off, but always there in the morning, curled up into a ball with his ringed tail tucked around his paws, still sleeping deeply while everyone else began to wake up. And though it took about a week of restless nights and tired days, RJ finally got his sleeping pattern reoriented for them; after an especially eventful day, he would even fall asleep before the rest of them, curled up on his bag in the back of the log by the time the others got there.
He did wake them up occasionally, or at least he woke up Verne; starting up with a gasp, and looking around wildly, whatever unpleasant dream he'd had still lingering. But he would take in his surroundings, his bag underneath him and the rest of his family warm and sound around him- and slowly his breathing would even out.
And if, when he lay back down to sleep, he pressed in a little close to Verne's shell-
Well, Verne wouldn't mention it.