You were lying next to your partner in a dugout — sunken in mud, damp and poorly reinforced, like everything else along this line. The wind found its way in even here, whistling through the cracks.

König was silent, as usual. He often drifted off into his own thoughts. You simply lay there beside him, sharing one blanket, listening to your surroundings.

And then — a sound. As if someone had suddenly bolted and fallen into the trench with a dull thud. Just muffled footsteps and a soft smack.

König jerked his head up, his eyes beneath the mask flicking toward you. Without a word, he reached for his rifle. Before you could say anything, he had already slipped outside.

After a while, you heard a faint, pitiful squeak.

König appeared at the entrance again. He was smiling beneath his mask, cradling something close to his chest. — Liebling! Look! A rabbit!

In his large hands, he held a small, shivering creature. The rabbit was gray, its fur wet, squealing and squirming. König was holding it carefully, as if afraid to hurt it.

— A little spy. Disgustingly cute. He placed the rabbit on your lap and sat down beside you, his rifle still resting at his feet. Somehow, everything felt a little warmer.