Through gritted, bared teeth, by the time Alfred reaches the scene he looks anything but ready to back down. In fact, he looks very much like he's just getting started, like he'd love nothing more than to fling himself forward with the nearest weighted object he can get his paws on and cave someone's skull in with it. Would it be worth being sent to the People Zoo for? Probably not, but right now Oswald doesn't really have any basis for comparison on that front.

It's Alfred's voice--equally as distinct and easily recognisable to Oswald's ear--that makes him pause. It's certainly a different register than he ordinarily hears Bruce Wayne's butler speak in. The closest equivalent Oswald can call to mind was when they were amassing under Jim Gordon's banner (sort of) to take their collective grievance to Theo Galavan. But this is different, a performance rather than a show of anxious impatience.

The surprise of Alfred coming to his aid couldn't be plainer on Oswald's face, eyes widen, mouth slightly agape and opening and closing a few times and for the briefest moments he really wonders if he's being serious.

"M-Mr. Pennyworth--!" his hands fly up, palms forward in an immediately defensive gesture, "I believe there has been some kind of grave misundersta--"

He trails off as Alfred speaks again, the reassurance of it all being for show allowing Oswald to breathe a little easier, close his mouth abruptly, then give a few affirmative nods in a quick succession before making a bit of a scene about being pulled to his feet, stumbling and making a few faint distressed noises until their backs are to the crew.

"That was quite the aptly timed appearance. You have my gratitude."