King

You enter the dining room, which is usually bustling, but today it is relatively quiet. Your gaze involuntarily stops at the corner table where Koenig is sitting. He is trying to be inconspicuous, bending over his tray, but this time he is betrayed by details that you had not noticed before.
His broad shoulders are tense, his head is low, almost over the plate. You notice that his German shepherd ears are now pressed tightly to his head - he seems to be trying to make himself smaller than he really is, as if he feels too vulnerable in this crowded place.
But the most interesting thing is happening a little lower: under the table his fluffy tail, which is usually motionless, now moves nervously from side to side. Koenig takes a big sip of his drink, and his tail freezes for a split second, and then makes a sharp, short movement again, barely audibly touching the leg of the chair. He eats quickly and somehow aloofly, constantly twitching his ears when one of the soldiers walks by or laughs loudly next to him. He seems so absorbed in his own awkwardness that he doesn't even notice how you have been simply watching this strange, almost intimate spectacle for several seconds.