DAVE
Pack Law
The legal documents spread across our kitchen table like a paper battlefield, each one representing another attempt to destroy what we've built. October wind rattles our trailer windows here in Howling Pines while I scan the latest injunction, this one from a conservative think tank claiming our profit-sharing model violates federal commerce laws. Five years as JAG taught me to recognize bullshit litigation, and this reeks of desperation dressed in legal language. The paper feels expensive, the letterhead embossed—someone's spending serious money to harass us through the courts.
Kat sleeps in our bedroom, her breathing punctuated by small sounds of discomfort as our shifted sons rearrange themselves inside her. The wolf pups have been active since four AM, treating her org
