"You're in my chair," I said.
Reid looked up from the map spread across the strategy table. He'd been there since before I came down, marking border positions in his neat little handwriting.
"There are eleven chairs in this room," he said.
"And you're in mine."
He held my look for a second, then got up and moved two seats over without a word. Callum, across the table, was suddenly interested in the paperwork in front of him.
I sat down in my chair. It wasn't even my chair. I sat in whatever was closest most days. But I wanted him out of it, so he was out of it, and that was going to have to be enough of a win for the morning.
That's how it had been for four days. Petty as hell. I knew it while I was doing it and I did it anyway.
"Northern line," Callum said. "Two of the packs that filed claims have people sitting closer than they were last week. Not on our land, but near it."
"How near?"
"Half a mile off the Weston boundary."
"Doing what?"
"Camping, officially."
