DAVE
Wings and Wolves
Daniel Archer stands in the pre-dawn darkness like he's carved from stone, leopard stillness that comes from decades of military discipline merged with predator instincts. Behind him, his core team maintains formation—Alpert documenting final security protocols on her tablet, Johnson coordinating communications across four territories, Clover with three raccoons perched on his shoulders like furry epaulettes, Santorini and Gamboa checking weapons with practiced efficiency that suggests they've done this particular dance in actual war zones.
"The King's warriors deployed two hours ago." Daniel's report comes precise and clipped. "Twenty-five to Cumberland—though they're maintaining perimeter only since the creature won't let anyone actually enter. Thirty to Covingto
