Jonathon set about busying himself for the remainder of the evening, beginning with demolishing another two bowls of the soup. A rejuvenative coma, he reflected, always left him ravenous. As for reading, he rarely did any after first being snatched away from his uncle. Typically all books of different worlds did was fill his mind with jumbled thoughts and history that made no sense to him; he much preferred to learn of his current locations by speaking to the locals.
After a few minutes of thought, and the discovery that he was quite full by now, Jonathon went into the sitting room anyway, though. He simply stared into space from his position on a chair at first, then murmured something under his breath and drew a lopsided circle in the air with one finger. A white, almost liquid substance remained in the air after he finished, still in the shape of a circle, and began to fill in slowly. Jonathon closed his eyes and softly began to hum a single, sustained note that seemed to be both a quiet buzz of noise and musical at the same time. He stayed that way for some time: eyes closed, humming, and a two-dimensional white circle shimmering in front of him.
