The shiny knife was in his mouth— Good. Tasted like adventure.
He waddled along quietly— Not so quietly— But sneaky in spirit— Towards Loki.
He launched, little legs but a big leap. Knife glinting— The target was the cape.
He hung there, knife still clamped in the corner of his jaws, swinging like a champion.
There is a sudden weight on Loki’s cape that announces Jeff’s presence; and while Loki would snark at and insult any person who would dare grab ahold and try to ride it, let alone rip it, this is Jeff. And Jeff has gained the protection of a god.
“Well hello my darling Jeff! Are we playing adventure? What do you have in your mouth? —Oh! My little stabby shark. Glorious.”