After about a week of Loki's antics, Toby was at the end of his patience. Every morning it was the same routine: Toby would wake up to discover Loki's latest rampage, take the blame and get thrown out of the house before he could have his breakfast. And as if the nightly demolition derbies weren't bad enough, the pup refused to release his bodily excrements on the paper. Of course, Toby got blamed for that too. But the worst was still to come.

One morning, Toby awoke to an inexplicable silence. There was no screaming from downstairs, no angry Shenoah coming after him with a broom, no quiet snores from under the bed. He was relieved at first, but as his brain slowly shifted into daytime mode, he started to wonder what was going on. He sniffed under the bed. No sign of the wolf cub, but there was a scent he recognized. Pete? Then his eyes grew wide with panic as he made the connection. "Loki!"

Fueled by terror, Toby followed his nose downstairs, out the door, and through the streets. Personally, he would have liked nothing better than to see the kid disappear, but not like this. "I swear," he muttered to himself, "if that punk did anything to Loki, I'll…"

"Toby?" asked Luna, running up to him. "What's going on?"

"Loki's in trouble. Pete and his gang kidnapped him…or worse."

"Oh no," gasped Luna. "I'm coming with you."

"Thanks. I could use the backup."

After what felt like eons, the scent led them to a door. "Butcher," Luna read, looking up at the sign.

Toby sniffed at the base of the door. "Pete was here," he announced. Further investigation revealed that Loki's scent was around the mail slot. "Pete, what have you done now?"

He didn't have long to wait. Right at that moment the butcher came along to open up shop, whistling jauntily to himself. No sooner had the man entered the shop than three things came out. The first was an outraged yell from the butcher. The second was Loki, running as fast as his little legs would go. The third was the butcher, chasing after the wolf cub with a knife. "You thieving little beast! Come back here! I'll teach you to break into my shop!"

Without sparing a thought for all the trouble Loki had given him, Toby dashed after them with Luna right behind him. Neither of them saw several dogs slip into the shop through the open door.

"Look!" Loki yelled over his shoulder at the butcher. "I didn't break into your shop! I was framed, I swear!"

Ignorant of the cub's plaintive yips, the butcher pulled back his arm. Something hit Loki in the side just seconds before the cleaver struck the snow where he'd been. "Don't you know they can't hear us?"

"Toby!" exclaimed Loki. "What are you doing?"

"Just the usual. Sniffing out gangs, running from maniacs with knives, saving pesky…" He stopped. "Never mind that last one. Are you okay?"

"I'll live."

"Pete and the Goon Platoon snuck in last night and nabbed you, right?"

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess. Anything else?"

"Yeah, they said they were going to use me as a decoy or something. I think right now they're raiding that mad guy's shop."

Toby's eyes flashed. "Why those dirty little…"

"Ow! That's my neck!"

"Oh, sorry," said Toby, unclenching his teeth. Loki was strangely silent and inactive all day, but later that night he crawled up onto the bed and nudged Toby awake. "What is it?" the blusky asked groggily.

"I just…wanted to say thanks again for what you did today. I can't believe you saved my life after I'd been so rotten to you."

Toby shrugged. "Well, I try not to hold a grudge. My dad always says that if you're going to go out for revenge, you'd better dig two graves."

"What does that mean?" wondered Loki.

"It means that when you try to get even, you usually end up hurting yourself more than the one you intended to hurt. That's why I always try not to hold a grudge. But I have to admit, you made it really hard to hold onto that resolution sometimes."

Loki hung his head. "I know. I wish I could take it all back and make it like it never happened."

Toby patted him on the head. "Well, if you'll promise not to tear apart the living room and try to go on the paper from now on, I promise not to yell at you anymore."

"It's a deal."

Toby smiled, enjoying the prospect of a future free of getting blamed for Loki's antics. "That just leaves the question of what to do about Pete and his punks."

Loki looked at him as if he had just asked how to walk. Then the wolf cub assumed a fighting stance. "You call old Goliath-Breath out, genius. One on one. Dog to dog. Hero to villain.

"Victim to mugger," Toby interjected. "Loki, he's twice my size. I'd get mauled!"

"Size doesn't matter. You'll be just like that kid who killed a giant in the story your boy's mom read last night."

"I don't have a slingshot," Toby pointed out. "Besides, that kid won because he had…well, I guess you might call it 'the Great Spirit' on his side."

"I think you do too," Loki pointed out supportively.

Toby sighed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but my dad told me never to fight unless there's no other way, and I can't help feeling that there's an alternative here."

"Well, if you figure out what it is, let me know," said Loki. "I'm going back to bed now." And with that he slipped under the bed.

Toby lay awake for a while, thinking about his problem. How could he stop Pete from bothering Loki once and for all? Keeping the kid inside clearly wasn't going to work even if it would be fair, which it wasn't. Finally, with no more ideas than when he'd started, he fell asleep. And as so often happens, he found the answer in his dreams.