It was late March in Nome, Alaska. The long winter was nearing its end and the sun was finally giving the frozen north more than two hours of twilight at noon. Along with the light came a rise in temperature, slight but enough to be detected, which the town's inhabitants rushed out to greet and enjoy. After being cooped up for much of the winter that by itself was well below zero and often accompanied by a nasty wind chill that knocked the temperature even lower, most if not all of them were eager to get outside for a bit to enjoy the first real sunshine they'd seen in months and stretch their stiff limbs.

Among those outside was Arrow, a former stray who had decided to embrace the joys of family life. In the year since being taken into the Calvins' home and adopted by Luna and Toby, she had experienced a kind of life that she never would have known if she were still on the street. A life where she didn't have to fight for every scrap of food, wonder where she was going to sleep at night or worry if she was about to be attacked from the shadows. A life where she had all the love and attention she could ever want, with playtime and more stories than she could keep track of. If this wasn't the "the life," as so many had put it, she didn't know what was.

But now, she was wandering the streets of Nome and enjoying the sun like everyone else. Though the temperature was still hovering below zero, the fact that the sun had come out of hiding was enough to draw the entire town outside. She passed by a row of houses on Maple Street, nodding and barking her greetings to dogs and people who were out on their porches, and stopped briefly to talk with some of them. Most of the dogs were as old as or older than Toby and Luna, and several were middle-aged. A few, however, were young enough to be in her age bracket, though she hadn't been offered many courtships. That was fine by her; she wasn't ready for a serious relationship yet anyway, and kept everyone at friendship distance.

She turned the corner onto Main Street and was met by a scene of confusion.

At the entrance to one alley, she saw about a dozen dogs grouped together, howling and barking. The wind was with her, so she could tell by their scents that most of them were strays, which struck her as very odd. Housedogs generally tried to avoid strays as much as possible for the numerous diseases and parasites they carried, but a few integrated themselves with the strays for various—if not always practical—reasons. She knew that her aunt Chase generally kept a firm hold on the strays, but never anything like what Groven had tried to do. She didn't control her dogs with tooth and claw like he had, and always left open the option to leave if they chose to.

Intrigued, she went over to investigate.

As with any crowd that's excited, this one was deafening. The dogs were packed so closely together that there was barely a hair's breadth between them, and she wondered how any of them could breathe. Knowing she wouldn't be able to see anything by trying to squeeze into the crowd, she hopped up onto their backs. Amid the protests, she caught a glimpse of the backs of two dogs and deduced from the raised hackles and erect ears that they were either fighting or about to fight.

With balance that was almost catlike, she moved forward. The dogs beneath her, packed tight as they were, could do little to shake her off. As she worked her way forward, the two dogs leapt at each other and the crowd went crazy. Shouts of encouragement went out to both combatants, though most, she noticed, were directed to one. Through the din of the excitement, she was able to discern the name of the apparent champion: Eviscerator. It was hardly a friendly name, evoking images of a meat grinder, and by the time she was able to see the dog himself, she understood why he'd been so named.

Eviscerator was deserving of his moniker. His body was covered in scars, mostly on his neck and shoulders, with a few on his cheeks and one across his left eye, which was clouded with blindness. There was a cut on his lower lip and half of his right ear was missing. Patches of missing fur and red skin suggested either a case of mange or places where an injury went deep enough to prevent fur from growing. His legs and shoulders bulged with muscle. Worst of all, the saliva dripping from his teeth indicated that he either had rabies—which wasn't likely, since the group would have scattered—or he enjoyed what he did. Both possibilities were equally worrying.

Having taken in the obvious favorite, Arrow shifted her gaze to the other combatant.

As for appearance, he was similar to Eviscerator, except that his body still had all its odds and ends. But while Eviscerator was well built and heavily muscled, his competitor seemed to have none at all. In fact, he looked like he hadn't had enough to eat for quite some time. His gut was withdrawn into his visible rib cage, his legs were thin and shaky, and his fur was falling out but not from mange. His most striking feature was his face: Gaunt with pronounced cheekbones and eyes set deep in their sockets.

Suddenly, Eviscerator let out a banshee's cry and lunged at the younger dog, who rolled in an attempt to let Eviscerator's momentum carry him past. But Eviscerator was too smart to fall for such a move, obviously having seen it many times before, and clamped his jaws around the smaller dog's throat.

Arrow's breath caught. This dog couldn't be much younger or older than she was, and on top of that he was weak from hunger. How could this crowd just let it happen? Then she remembered the stories that her grandmother Taya used to tell of her time in the dogfighting ring, as well as those that the Calvin parents read their children sometimes before they went to bed. Apparently, there wasn't much difference between humans and dogs when it came to violence. The lust for blood resided in both; some just enjoyed it more than others. And Eviscerator enjoyed it so much that he would kill his weaker adversary without a second thought.

Out of fear for the younger dog's life, she leapt across the backs of the other dogs and into the fight.

Eviscerator, already busy strangling his opponent, never saw her coming. The first he knew of her presence was the feeling of being struck in the face. Caught completely off guard by the sudden attack, Eviscerator released his hold on the younger dog's throat and was driven back toward the crowd, suffering several quick swats to his snout and then an uppercut to his chin that forced his muzzle upward which was followed neatly by a double-pawed kick to his throat, forcing him back into the wall of stunned spectators.

His face now free of slashing claws, Eviscerator got his first glance of his assailant. He could tell by the scent it was a female, and was surprised to discover that she was about as old as his opponent and standing between them. Her hackles were raised, her ears were flat and her lips were pulled back to the gums, exposing young but healthy and very sharp teeth that gleamed in the sunlight. His surprise quickly dissolved into roiling fury at her interruption of his victory. "Just who do you think you are, barging in like that?" he demanded.

"My name is Arrow," the young dog answered. "And I 'barged in like that' to keep a cow-brained, pigheaded bully from killing a dog who was likely forced into a fight he had no hope of winning."

Eviscerator was disturbed by her description of how the fight had started, which was startlingly true despite her lack of knowledge about its initiation. She'd wounded his pride by literally slapping victory from his jaws and then added insult to injury by calling him a cow-brained, pigheaded bully. He snarled in rage. "Are you calling me ugly?"

"Good to know you've seen yourself," Arrow said smartly. "How many mirrors have given their opinion?"

Some of the dogs muttered and chuckled at the quickness of her answer, but Eviscerator was only enraged. "You have a smart tongue, whelp," he snarled.

"That's easy against one as dumb as yours."

Several in the crowd oohed at her seemingly endless supply of comebacks that demolished his words on impact. "She's got a point," one remarked. "Several, in fact."

"Too true," another dog agreed. "He should give up now."

Encouraged by their support, Arrow's words became bolder. "Is this how a dumb, ugly brute like you gets his morning exercise?" she asked, gesturing to Eviscerator's gasping and coughing former opponent. "By picking fights with dogs they know they can beat paws down?"

"Hey, he bumped into me," Eviscerator said defensively. "He should have watched where he was going."

"That's as lame as a crippled horse," Arrow said. "I blame your blind eye."

Eviscerator snapped his jaws at her. "Check your tongue," he ordered, adding a particularly unkind feminine adjective, "or someone's liable to pull it out."

Arrow sighed wearily, growing tired of exchanging insults with this bully. Glaring at the crowd, she ordered, "All of you, leave right now or I'll have to call the police."

At this, Eviscerator blew a raspberry. "You? Call the police? Don't make me laugh."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know I was joking," Arrow said, her voice thick with disdain.

"I think it's time to put you in your place." He stalked toward her.

Arrow allowed herself a triumphant smile as she raised her muzzled and let out a howl as loud and powerful as any trained hunting dog. Though the humans would barely take notice, any nearby police dogs would know exactly what it meant. The crowd scattered instantly, not wanting to be caught encouraging an unfair fight. Startled to discover that she'd meant every word of her warning, Eviscerator hesitated for a few heartbeats. That was long enough for Arrow to leap forward and lay down a barrage of quick, precise blows to his face and neck to keep him on the defensive. Several left and right swipes to his snout, a clawed uppercut that flowed seamlessly into a slash across the bridge of his nose and then a bat to both ears kept him disoriented. Eviscerator had no opportunity to counter and was forced out into the street.

She only let up when she heard a voice call out, "STOP! POLICE!" Arrow did as it instructed and stepped away from her battered opponent, who was shaking off his disorientation at her paws. She turned as saw her father and two other police dogs loping toward them. Panting hard, she indicated her reason for beckoning him and those who followed him in. "Who's he?" Toby asked.

"Some bully who challenged another dog about my age to a fight for no reason," Arrow explained, pointing to the alleyway. "The one he was fighting is in there."

Toby addressed his subordinates. "Comet, go check on that dog. Exile, keep an eye on this one. I need to ask Arrow some questions."

"You got it, boss," Comet acknowledge, going into the alley.

"Sure thing, Chief," Exile answered. He set a strong paw on Eviscerator's back, who was trying to crawl away. "You'd do yourself a favor by staying still and keeping quiet, pal."

Leading Arrow around a corner, Toby proceeded to question his adopted daughter. "What exactly happened, Arrow? Who is that dog and what did he do?"

Arrow answered with what she knew. "I don't know his real name, but he was called Eviscerator by those watching the fight. The dog he was fighting had no real chance. He probably chose him at random, then proceeded to batter him. I don't know how long they'd been fighting, but he had his teeth around the other dog's throat when I got there. It's lucky I interrupted the fight when I did: He was biting down hard and would have killed the poor mutt. And the worst part was that the dogs watching the fight were cheering him on, like the losing dog's life didn't matter at all."

Toby nodded, filing the information away for later analysis. "And what happened that made you call us?"

"He didn't take my warning seriously because I'm young," she said simply. "He thought I was trying to show off, and he got his tail shoved down his throat."

Toby was astonished. "You took him on? By yourself?"

"Guilty as charged," Arrow said proudly. "He underestimated me. What else can I say?"

Toby looked at her, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "You truly are amazing, Arrow," he said. "I just may need to discuss recruiting you for police duty with my colleagues."

Arrow's eyes lit up. She'd dreamed of working with the police dogs, but figured it was a passing fancy and would fade before it ever came true. "Really? You mean it?"

Toby nodded. "You've demonstrated honor, reason and cool judgment in difficult situations many times. I think you've earned it." He walked back into the street and saw Exile still holding the perpetrator down. "Attempted escape?" he asked, seeing Exile splayed across the dog's back.

"Yes, sir," the blue-tinted silver husky answered, grunting as he endeavored to keep the struggling dog under control. "Made a leap at my throat then tried to run for it. Not exactly the most observant eye: Overconfident and stronger than he is smart."

"Toby!" Comet called. Toby turned his attention to the collie. "You might wanna come over here."

Toby went over, followed by Arrow. "What is it, Comet?"

Comet gestured to the unconscious dog. "Take a whiff of him."

Toby did, and instantly recoiled in disgust. "Spoiled meat," he said. "But why would he eat something like that?" He pressed his paw to the dog's side and gasped. "Because he's starving."

"And running a fever," Comet added. "Poor kid's probably been sick for weeks. He needs a warm place and some good food, or he's done for."

Toby looked down at the unconscious youngster. "But where could we take him?" he wondered. His fatherly instincts told him to take the young dog back to the Calvins' home for safety and care, but like most people in town they weren't exactly partial to taking in strange strays off the street. The butcher's meat locker would provide shelter but not warmth, and the man was apt to add any unwelcome intruders to his stock, not to mention that the poor pup's stomach probably couldn't handle such substance after so long with so little. And his inability to directly communicate with humans meant that the vet was also not an option.

"We'll take him in," Arrow said after a moment. Toby and Comet turned to her in surprise, and she felt her face heat up. "That is, I'll take him in. I saved his life, so technically, I'm responsible for him."

Toby made a gesture with his paw. "Slow down, honey. Do you know what you're saying?"

"I know exactly what I'm saying," she said. "He needs care, and I can provide it."

"Arrow, we can't just take in a stray."

Arrow looked hurt. "But Dad, I was 'just a stray' and you took me in."

Toby felt a leaden weight form in his chest. Arrow's attitude had certainly mellowed since being adopted, but her words were just as sharp. She'd always spoken her mind and had no problems with reminding others about what her pre-family life had been like. And she was right. "All right, we'll take him home. On one condition." He extended his right forepaw and pressed it into the snow, leaving a print. "That you keep your word and look after him."

Arrow placed her own paw in the print. She didn't know everything about wolves, but she did know that they took promises very seriously, and she was proud to use their way of signing a pact to honor that part of her adopted mother's heritage. "My word is my bond. And if I break it, I'll sleep on the porch for a week."

Toby decided to mull over her reason for choosing that punishment later, knowing that getting this young dog someplace safe and warm was of paramount importance at the moment. "Exile, Comet," he said, looking at his two subordinates. "Round up any help you need and get that dog to the pound. Arrow and I are taking this pup home." They nodded and Comet ran off to recruit assistance.

With that taken care of, Toby shifted his attention to Arrow's rescuee, and with her help hoisted the yearling onto his back and headed toward Luna's house. The dog was worryingly light, his body little more than a bony bag of skin that felt hot to the touch. They needed to get him next to a fire as soon as possible, knowing that his body didn't need to be fighting both the cold and whatever illness had struck him.

They arrived at Luna's house a few minutes later. Arrow, being smaller, went inside first and took their rescuee by the nape of his neck when Toby slid him off his back and through the doggy door before crawling inside himself and shaking the cold from his body. They set the young dog next to the fireplace in the old litter basket where Arrow's siblings had been born and covered him with a small blanket.

Toby ran his paw up and down the pup's side like a metal detector, feeling for anything of concern other than his fever and skinniness. "He seems to be okay for the time being," he said. "I'll see if I can get the vet over here. In the meantime, I want you to stay here and watch over him. If he wakes up before I get back, try giving him some water; it's important that he stay hydrated. And if he's strong enough, give him some of Mrs. Calvin's mutton broth. It should still be warm."

Arrow came smartly to attention. "Yes sir!"

Toby couldn't help a chuckle. "At ease, sweetheart." He moved back to the door. "Keep an eye on him. I'll be back as soon as I can." Then he was gone.

Arrow sat beside the basket, keep a watchful eye on her guest as promised and instructed. The poor thing. He was so weak that even the movement of being transported here hadn't woken him. She was amazed that he'd lasted as long as he had in the fight; if he'd fallen ill more than a month beforehand, that meant he had incredible determination and would give up only when his body did. It was astonishing, really. This young canine had a will and determination worthy of any police dog.

Luna came in just as Arrow finished that thought. "Hey, honey," she greeted, shaking the cold from her coat and walking toward her adopted daughter. "Who's that?" she asked, peering over Arrow's shoulder at the young dog in the basket.

"I don't know," Arrow shrugged. "I found him facing down a bigger dog in an alley with a crowd watching. They were cheering on the bigger dog, who they called Eviscerator, and he was in no shape to fight. He's starving and running a fever."

Luna was shocked. "A good thing you brought him here, then," she approved. "Where's your father?"

"Getting the vet," Arrow said. "He might be able to tell if there's some other problem we don't know about."

"Good, good. Your father just may need to recommend you for police duty."

Arrow giggled. "You know, it's interesting that you should say so."

"Oh?"

"Because it's exactly what he said."

They fell into a companionable silence as they watched their young guest sleep for the next few minutes until Toby returned with only Eugene. "Another dog!" the boy exclaimed in surprise.

"Vet's gone," Toby said. "Heard his assistant talking with the General Store manager. He's headed to Koyuk to pick up a supply order and won't be back until next week."

"Then this young dog's our responsibility until he gets back," Luna remarked.

"My responsibility," Arrow cut in.

Luna looked at her. "Sorry?"

"She's declared herself his caretaker," Toby told her. "And is adamant about it. She's decided that he's her responsibility since she rescued him from the fight."

"Is that so?" Luna looked at her adopted daughter with a new respect. "Well then, Arrow, if you're going to take responsibility for his wellbeing, you'll also have to look after yourself."

The boy sat down between Toby and Luna with Arrow in his lap. "Don't worry," he said to the dogs. "We'll make sure this poor little guy gets better." He laid his hand on the sleeping pup's side and gasped when he felt the heat of the young dog's fever. Arrow whined and put a paw on his arm. "It's okay, Arrow," he told her, stroking her back and cradling her ear in his palm. "He'll get better. I wish I understood dog so I could ask where he came from."

Later that afternoon, when Shenoah and Jarrett came back from their respective jobs, they were understandably surprised to find yet another stray dog in their home. After questioning Eugene if he'd brought the young dog in, he shook his head and explained that Arrow had found him earlier that morning. The Calvin parents looked at each other, both thinking the same thing: That their dogs were more human than canine. They were certainly smart, but their powers of deduction and reasoning were too great to be ignored. It couldn't be simply chalked up to training.

Arrow stayed by his side for the next three days, watching him with all the attention she'd given her sister Star after her rescue. The hours were long and uneventful; she dozed off several times, his breathing the only indication he was still alive. After a whole day and a night of near nonstop vigil, she was beginning to feel the strain. After another day and night, her vision had started to swirl. By the third morning, she was starting to see things that weren't there. Luna had offered several times to take over so Arrow could rest, but the young adult dog respectfully refused, repeating what Toby had told her: "I saved him. He's my responsibility."

However, Luna was not about to let Arrow exhaust herself. "Honey," she argued gently, "I understand how you feel. I've been where you are. But you need rest."

"Mom, I'm fine." She tried and failed to suppress a yawn. "Really." Her eyes were heavy.

"How long have you been down here?" asked Luna.

Arrow tried to think, but her tired brain wasn't working right. "Three days?" she answered uncertainly.

"That's plenty long enough. You go upstairs and sleep."

"But Mom—"

"But nothing," Luna said, asserting her parental authority. "You'll do him no good by exhausting yourself. I'll watch him and call you if there's any change." Arrow tried to argue further, but Luna stopped her. "No more buts. Bed. Now."

Though she could argue her mother under the table, Arrow didn't have the energy, so she trudged up the stairs in an exhausted trance and went into Connie's room, where she flopped into her moose fur doggy bed and instantly fell asleep.

Downstairs, Luna heard the hinges of the doggy door squeak faintly as someone entered. She could tell by the visitor's footsteps and scent that it was Toby, probably coming to check on their visitor. "How's he doing?" he asked.

Luna smiled to herself. She loved it when she was right. "Not much better than when he came here," she replied. "He's still sleeping a lot and his fever hasn't broken yet." They were silent for a moment as they watched the young dog. "I just sent Arrow to bed so she could get some rest. She was down here for almost three days watching him."

"Three days?" Toby was astonished. Luna nodded and he shook his head. "Sometimes I think that girl was born our daughter; she's got your determination and my stamina."

"And then some," Luna added. "I hate to think what those attributes would be used for now had we not taken her in."

"No doubt," Toby agreed. "Well, we had a rough time getting his friend to the pound."

"At least it'll keep him from making any more trouble," Luna commented. "Hopefully."

"And hurting any other dogs," Toby added. "This Eviscerator certainly has it good as far as strength goes. He's blind in one eye, but I swear he's part grizzly. He's as strong as Exile and I combined; we had to recruit several other police dogs just to get him there and it took six of us to get him into a kennel." He went into the kitchen and lapped up a mouthful of water from Luna's water dish.

She looked at him curiously and asked, "What are you doing?"

Toby only gave her a look before walking up to the basket, positioning his head over the sleeping yearling and opening up.

—

The first thing the young dog became aware of was the feeling of cold wetness suddenly enveloping his head. With a gasp and a yelp, he came awake. He breathed hard and looked around frantically, but his vision was so blurry that he couldn't discern anything. But it didn't matter anyway: A sudden pounding in his head forced him to lay it down again. He groaned from the pain. As it subsided, his vision cleared some and he was able to better distinguish more of his surroundings. Also, he heard voices. They were far away and reverberated in his ears, the words indistinct and unintelligible. But as the haze in his brain lifted, he was able to catch more details.

The first thing he noticed was that the globular figures before him didn't seem to be threatening him. They weren't poking or prodding him, or even talking loudly. If anything, they seemed concerned. As his senses cleared further and his surroundings came into focus, he suddenly realized that he was inside a house. He felt a comforting heat at his back and was aware of something soft covering him up to his shoulders. He closed his eyes, took five deep breaths, then opened them again. This time, he could see clearly who was in front of him.

At a glance, he could tell they were crossbreeds, but couldn't imagine what kind. Neither did he care. He was in a strange place with two grown dogs between him and the only visible route of escape. His eyes widened and his sides rose and fell more rapidly as his breathing quickened. "Who are you? Where am I?"

The male dog, seeming to sense his anxiety, laid down to make himself smaller and spoke softly. "Easy, you're safe now."

The young dog's breathing slowed a bit, but his frightened expression remained. "What's going on? What do you want?"

Silence fell between them as his hosts considered how best to answer without pushing his panic button. "We don't want anything," the female said gently, "other than your name. We like to have a name for those we care for."

Care for. Those words helped a bit, and his face relaxed some, but he was still very scared. Surviving a near-death situation tends to do that. These strangers hadn't tried to hurt him, nor did they seem to have any wish to. They didn't even look at him harshly. But before he decided to trust them, he wanted to try something. "Tell me who you are and where I am first."

"Fair enough," agreed the female. "I'm Luna, and this my mate, Toby. You're in my home."

"How did I get here? How long have I been here?"

"About three days," Toby replied. "Our daughter, Arrow, brought you here."

Considering the fact that he was under a blanket next to a fire, the young dog came to the conclusion that Toby and Luna meant what they were saying and wanted to help him. "Ulakleet," he said. "My name's Ulakleet."

Toby nodded. "Ulakleet," he tried, liking the way it rolled off his tongue. "That's good. Strong and heroic." He turned to Luna. "Wasn't one of your great-grandma's friends named Ulakleet?"

Luna nodded. "Yes, but that's a story for another time," she said, smartly cutting off further questions. "For now, I think we should focus on our guest."

"Of course." Toby returned his attention to the young dog. "Are you feeling well enough to eat, Ulakleet?"

Ulakleet's ears perked up at the mention of food, and he suddenly looked much healthier than he was. "You have food here?"

Luna tried to stifle a chuckle of relief. "More than you can bark at," she told him. "Mostly dried moose, but we also have some smoked bacon and roasted pheasant. Plenty of fresh water, too."

Ulakleet's stomach growled like an angry lion, making Toby and Luna laugh. Ulakleet also giggled. "I'll eat anything at this point," he said. "Whatever you have. Even scraps."

"Stop right there, young dog," Toby said, suddenly serious. "You had spoiled meat on your breath when you were brought here. We didn't save your life to take care of you halfway; you're staying here until you're strong enough to take care of yourself." He set a paw on Ulakleet's side. "You're not an intruder here, you're a guest. And we're going to treat you like one."

Ulakleet took a moment to consider this, still not quite sure if he could trust them despite their assurances. His life experiences had taught him to rely on himself, that nobody cared enough about him to make an effort toward his wellbeing. He couldn't remember having a family. Finally, after the full weight of his situation landed on him, he realized that he had nowhere to go and would most likely die if he left now. He sighed in resignation. "It looks like I'm staying for a while." Suddenly, his mouth opened in a giant yawn. "I'm going back to sleep."

"All right, Ulakleet," Toby said. "We'll have bowls of water and food ready when you wake up." He and Luna got up and left the room, and as their young guest slipped back into slumber Toby looked at his mate. "We have to get him checked out."

"I agree," Luna replied, "but how? He's barely trusts us, never mind humans."

"Maybe we could bring the vet here," he suggested. "We've done it before."

"Yes, but that still doesn't address the trust issue." Luna looked at their young guest. "And you said the vet's out until next week. There has to be some way we can prove to him that we and the humans are trustworthy in the meantime."

"The only way to do that would be to expose him to friendly humans. Like Charlie or Connie."

"That would be the obvious way," Luna agreed, "but we have to handle this carefully. His behavior suggests that if he grew up around humans, he was either abused or neglected. Think about Grandpa and how he grew up: Distrusted by everyone and hated by many, taking what he could get to survive. But he had the moral integrity to decide that some things were worth more than his own standing. That's what inspired him to go find the missing sled team. That's what made Grandma choose him as a mate. And it's the reason you and me and all my aunts and uncles are so proud of him."

"Judging by his disposition, it stands to reason that he doesn't have that kind of foundation. His default is to see everyone around him as a potential threat, and helping him realize that the opposite is true won't happen overnight. We'll be working against a lifetime of experiential conditioning, so we have to go slowly and gently or we're only going to drive him away."

Toby nodded. He remembered Arrow's reluctance and distrust when she first came to them and the weeks it took for her to begin letting her guard down enough that she could recognize that they only wanted her to feel safe and happy. The difference between the situation with her and the current one was that Ulakleet had spent longer relying on himself and his own abilities to stay alive; if Toby thought Arrow's acclimatization to life among humans had been difficult, he could only imagine what it would take to bring Ulakleet around. "Slow and steady, then," he replied.

Luna nodded. "Slow and steady."

Authors' Note

So here it is: The first chapter of my first original story and my first attempt to continue the Toby series that was originally written by Omnitrix12 20 years ago under the handle Jake Razor on Balto Source. This is the first of seven chapters of the first of seven planned episodes. I hope you enjoyed and please leave reviews and suggestions. Every little bit helps!