One of my brothers used to sleepwalk all of the time. He was so dead to the world that he looked more like a zombie. In fact, when you asked him what he was doing or where he was going he would always stare right through you with the most crazed murderer type look you can think of.
There is a saying that you shouldn’t disturb a sleepwalker, unless they are endangering themselves. I can’t remember exactly why they say that is, but in the case of my brother we liked that advice. There were times he would walk right into my room and investigate my closet. Harmless enough, right?
Several times he tried getting outside. My parents would usually catch him fiddling with the lock. One time, however, I remember him walking barefoot right out into the snow in the dark of night. When they woke him up he was a little bit angry to have been woken up but more confused than anything. It was like he was in a trance on a mission to reach an unknown destination. It was the strangest thing, funny at times, but usually a cause for alarm. We all came to expect the unexpected when he was up and about at night, and like it or not, from then on we were all expected to wake him up and walk him back to bed no matter how grumpy he was about his REM cycle being interrupted.