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The old, thick, weathered wooden beams of the building were exposed, the walls bear to the stone- Perhaps it had never been finished and dry-walled on purpose for people (or patchworks) more accustomed to the dungeon-like ambiance of a laboratory built into an old castle or observatory. It wasn't very large, just one room with a door off to the side to a meager bathroom, but the trim by the ceiling on the walls were hung with... parts. A small collection of hands here, left and right hands separated into their unique groups hung from loops of rope, a series of legs lay in a pile on the other side of the monk-like wooden desk lined by unevolved Bombs of various colors, and sitting on the plane wooden bed with a needle in hand and a spare arm half stitched to his empty stump was Christof staring at her wide-eyed. He was at least wearing pants, but the lopsided, misshapen disaster zone of his chest and hunch were laid full bear.

With a terrified anxious noise in the back of his throat, his stitched mouth contorted in terror as he dropped the needle to snatch up a sheet to try to hide behind. THE DOOR!! He knew he had forgotten something! Locking it had never really been an issue for him before.

Someone was in his room! SOMEONE was in his ROOM! No one had ever seen his room before, let alone.... him in such a state of dress! He might have been naive about a lot of things and social netiquettes, (like telling a Mind-flayer her parts were not as desirable as other's,) But what he did know was very strategically and sternly instilled into him by his creator. A gentlemen never had a lady alone in his bedroom, for one thing. Let alone the countless rules on being properly dressed!

Suddenly, scruff was yapping, leaping around at Amrita's feet as though convinced his owner was being attacked. With a snarl, he grabbed the back of her dress, tugging as much as it could. Considering the foaming beast was about the size of a cat, the damage was minimal, but his heart was in it.

Christof froze, lowering the sheet to peak out around it, his face still flushed. He knew that voice.... Amrita??

With a snap of his fingers and a silent command, the patchwork scareon let go, attention now on the door. When the rumbling roar from the other side of the door permeated the room, the little animal had the opposite reaction to the students on the bed, immediately trotting to snarl back, sniffing furiously at the crack. Something was there! Maybe it wanted to play!

Christof's reservations, though, were immediately distracted by the sudden noise, his expression going pale as each facial skin patch allowed. He knew that sound.... but how could it possibly? She hadn't escaped it, she HAD BROUGHT IT HERE!

Dropping the sheet, he gently patted her, tugging at his unfinished stitches to try to tighten them up and tie it off- he could finish later, at least now he could still use the arm, even unattached. Beside his bed leaned his heavy shovel- his prized possession. It's multiple uses never seemed to end. Leaving her on the bed, he snatched it up in trembling hands, inching towards the door. He was NOT going to go down without a fight this time!

Christof had braced himself with mental images of the monstrous beast from the snowy hills of Candy Cane Lane scorched into his mind's eye, his shovel raised as he threw the door open, but when it was only this tiny creature at his feet, the world suddenly swam a bit in confusion. What.... in Halloween... was THAT?? Still, he kept the shovel raised, wanting to glance back to Amrita to see if she had any answers, but was wary to take his eyes off of the thing in case it was some sort of trick. Instead he gave a muffled, confused whine in the back of his throat, taking a step back anxiously.

Scruff, meanwhile, was ecstatic at the sight of a new friend, sharp teeth bared, drool running down his chubby chins as he waddled out to try to meet the fellow pet.

Still completely baffled, Christof slowly lowered his shovel to back away slowly into his room, boggling at her in confusion. Where on- how the- when did- but what WAS it??

As Scruff gave a loving, playful bite towards the smoldering little creature, Christof turned back to it, gingerly trying to push it away with the end of his shovel.

Christof nearly stumbled over, his half-stitched arm swinging limply before he managed to grab the shovel again to at least keep it pivoting properly and instinctively rushed towards the monster harassing his little friend. The plan was this: Smack the thing as hard as he could with the shovel, wrap in his bed sheet, and dispose of it out the window.

Nostrils flaring, his bared, naked patchwork of muscles all bulging, he charged forward, swinging the shovel down onto the beast as hard as he could.

Christof was not to be thwarted, nostrils flaring in frustration as the thing practically MOCKED him, knocking over a pile of legs in the process. Scruff was yapping unhelpfully, not sure what to make of the new friend that didn't want to seem to play with him, but the hunchback ignored the little animal, reading the shovel for another attempt at a swing- the gust knocking some of the snippets of photographs he had taped onto the stone wall across the room with a flutter. When the wily thing dodged again, he staggered to the side, swinging to try to herd it back towards the door, motioning desperately for Amrita to open it.