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The ruckus between midget and beast causes Alva to glance behind her for a split second during one of Rowan's pauses. "Idiot man! Put that beast back in its stable before it does something dangerous or escapes completely!" she hisses venemously, before turning back to the Thing, which had just finished its tirade of (admittedly correct) accusations.

Lifting her cropwhip-holding arm, she deftly flicks her wrist and the leather flap at the end shoots through the bars, targetting one of the Thing's deformed paws-turned-hands. "You had best shut up about things you do not understand, dog."

She straightens herself to her fullest, almost teacherly stance, and continues. "That man is not your father, you only call him that because you are a stupid creature who cannot tell the difference between a father and a slave-driver. A father would not keep you in a little cage, while someone you say is 'below' you lives in the comfort of a moderately sized room with an actual bed." Her furious expression takes on a smirk, head tilting inquisitively. "I take it you call the man Father when you try pitifully to learn something, and Master when he is hurting you and locking you in a cage?"

Grumbling morosely, lowly stable hand Ramos begins to pull Salmacis back to her stable. He was covered in dirt and had beaten himself nearly sensless, and all Alva could say was that he was disrupting their conversation. Cristoval couldn’t even get a good look at the thing because she was so absorbed in her heated conversation. All that Cristoval really got from the exchange was that the three of them - Mrs Moreau, the creature, and Salmacis - were all highly dominant females and therefore would never get along properly. It was a sociological law that transcended species.

"Diabla de ingrata, es una maravilla que usted todavía está vivo y usted todavía de imitación mis avances." he mumbled, closing, and this time locking the stable, "Usted la verá eventual; ¡nadie pueden resistir El Gran Cristoval Sebastian Ramos!" This last point he shouted, posing as dramatically as one can when one is covered in dirt and developing bruises. He knew deep down that this too would be ignored, especially breing in Spanish, but he felt he should try. It would be against his nature not to.

(Ingrate devil woman, it's a wonder you're still alive and you still mock my advances. You'll see it eventually; no one can resist the great Cristoval Sebastian Ramos!*pose*)

Salmacis remained unconscious in her pen.

"Stink woman still puts self below Father, Rowan sees -- Rowan knows. Stink woman thinks Rowan cannot see or hear?" The dog accuses Alva, showing no fear for her -- only disdain and hatred. Alva took Moreau's attention away from it, in the dog's mind she was only delaying progress and was no good for it.

The dog sticks its arm out as far as it can reach, pointing a curved, bony finger at Alva. "Stink woman tries to cover up scent by trying to smell like Father, but Rowan is not fooled because Rowan knows that stink woman smells differently most of time. Stink woman is bad at trying to be smell of Father, doing it wrong. Smells like stink. Stink woman is not Father, never will be, stink woman stop trying. Rowan is trying to stop being dog because Rowan will be not-dog, unlike stink woman who is trying to be Father but never will be."

The dog quickly withdraws its hand, Alva wasn't anywhere near close enough for it to grab. Refusing to back down, the dog remains standing. "Stink woman thinks too big about place here," it says. "Father will fix that. Father will put stink woman in place."

Rowan is launching into the same tirade she addressed earlier, which makes a wickedly amused grin break through Alva's features. "Ah, hiding behind your fear and problems by repeating the same insults over and over again? You may well be more human than I originally saw you for-- and you have much in common with Alphonse, which makes me wonder what he may have done to obtain you in the first place..." Her voice trails off, and a finger lightly scratches her cheek in mock thought. "The way you say such things... if it weren't for the fact that you blindly see the man as a father on the mere grounds that he told you it is so, I might think that you are a little jealous."

"I must say that I am grateful for that filthy little cage of yours," she quips. "If it weren't for those bars separating us, I imagine that you would have quickly broken one of the Laws... I will have to have a small chat with Alphonse about your behavior. You are less of an ideal woman than even I." The retort ends in a sadistic little throaty chuckle.

Finally, she turns around quick as a whip and at last addresses Cristoval's presence with a completely leery gaze. "I doubt that Rowan would be willing to speak with you right now, Spaniard," she says pointedly.

Cristoval’s initial reaction was shock, though not outwardly - he had learned long ago that in no game is it alright to show one’s true feelings - He had not expected for someone in such a heated and emotional state to be able to retort so precisely. As much as she abused him, Alva was looking more and more desirable at every turn. Someone like this could only understand animalistic inferiority, so he knew he must advance aggressively.

With as much suave as he could muster he began walking towards the cage, "It would be silly of me to expect someone with only a developing vocabulary to understand my words. I was simply pointing out that someone who is superior doesn’t have to prove it."

This was a good tactic; Cristoval praised himself for his ingenuity under pressure. Not many could pull off nonchalant with dirt and bruises. Still, he did not expect for Alva to swoon, this was not that game, this game was more complex.

There was, as was mentioned, no real time to think, so Cristoval’s instinctive response was to duck in to catch the woman. As he began leaning to do so, however, he began thinking.

To catch her would be the chivalrous thing to do, yes, but it would implicate, even modestly, desire. This was not the kind of woman one wants to desire, this was the kind of woman you shun and act superior to in order to create a desire in them. However, to let her simply fall on her face like that would be an awful thing to do, it’s never alright to allow a woman to hurt herself, and since he was already on his way to catch her it would also seem foolish to suddenly stop and let her fall.

Decision making was over when Cristoval caught Alva’s shoulder. He slid into a one legged kneeling position and let her momentum roll her onto his knee. It was a traditionally romantic position, Alva sitting restfully on his knee with her back supported by his arm, but Cristoval chose the position because he had doubts he could actually support the woman let alone stop a free fall. He was fit, but he was not strong, not to mention their difference in… proportions. To further emphasize that, though it was a romantic position, he was not faintly interested in her, he looked, or rather, glared heroically at the cage in the back of the room.

"You should not strike another being out of hate." He was trying, with some difficulty, to keep his words simple, and his message succinct. "Now," he turned back to Alva, "that was awfully embarrassing for you, was it not?"

“You would have complained anyway.” Cristoval stood once more. ”At least this way you’ll suffer no further damage to your head; the doctor’s assistants should be catering aid, not requiring it. You’ve nearly gotten yourself killed twice in these first few minutes I’ve had the displeasure of knowing you. And you nearly killed me when I tried to greet you!” Cristoval, though he was speaking very animatedly, busied himself with the rebuttoning one of his cuffs.

“-And now you insist I want to impress you, woo you into submission.” Cristoval scoffed, “You’re far too much trouble to be worth any wooing,” a lie, “All that could spawn from your shriveled gut are more senseless, volatile, harpies.” Cristoval was unsure weather he was going too far. One of the marvels of this woman was that he’d never had to take this route before. His inexperience was exhilarating. When he was done, he patted his pants and motioned to take leave, though he expected the woman to retort if not strike him. In fact, he already was formulating rebuttals for various things she might do though he appeared intent on walking away.