Diefenbaker has taken up a position opposite Fraser while he sits at the table, glaring pointedly at him as he lies there, on his coat, with the kind of determination only a wolf can muster.
Accusing.
Fraser is ignoring him. Loudly. Or perhaps he's just absorbed in his thoughts. He has come back with more than he'd anticipated; a hardcover guitar case leans in the corner by the front door, though he hasn't looked at it or said a word about it.
He's poring over world event material now, but the text on the pages isn't really registering. He has a great deal on his mind, and he hasn't even begun to really sift through it. All he can think about is how his presence here, unwitting though it is, has meant loss for others.