Henry saw it all happen so fast. The centaur (Or was he a dryad. Henry wasn't a expert on greek styled Fair folk.) moved so infernally fast that Henry had to use every ounce of power to keep even pace. There was a pang of sympathetic pain bubbling within him as those antlers plunged trough the Nixie like a multi-pronged spear of death. But that very basic connection also warned him, the Nixie still had it's voice. And a nixie would not be above dragging out her death to lay one last curse or blast the hearing of her killer to kingdom come. The Näck was filled with something akin to rage and with a speed he didn't know he could muster, he blurred across the cavern floor like bullet and his hand clamped over the mouth of his kin. As he did he felt something run trough him like a spike of sudden energy and emotion. Cold hatred but also fear, disappointment and utter resignation at her fate. Nixies were evil and soulless by human standards. But they were also feeling things, just like Henry was. To bad their rivers had not opted to give them a moral compass the way his river had done Henry. The moment that split second of contemplation and emotional feedback died, Henry pulled at the womans head, and the force of the Centaurs charge did the rest. There was no snapping sound, but he could feel it as her neck twisted in a nasty way. She was already dead by the time she had faced a Dryad, but at least this way it was quicker. 

As Henry felt her wilt and turn into puddle of rank, foul smelling water he could not contain the disgust he felt. He looked at it, eyes narrow and his nose stinging with the repugnant smell as he crouched over the puddle. He touched the water, and he could feel its surfaced creased, the oxygen in the water was slowly disappearing, like life was leaving it all together. 

“I knew my kind always lacked love for mortals. But for them to get involved with Lupine politics.. And these two were as vile as they co-” He stopped himself as a name was mentioned. It was the Centaur who asked him about The Ice Lady and Henry had failed to overhear the interrogation from Atticus so the sudden question made him freeze in place. He simply stared at the other creature, the siren still as the grave before he looked over to Hoyle. When he spoke, his voice was strangely silent, quivering almost. “I told you... She would come for us” And then a year of not being able to sleep properly, to always feel like he was one step away from certein doom and the nagging ghost of past experiences came crashing onto the back of Henry like the world on Atlas shoulders. And the otherwise calm and collected Henry, explosed.

”You knew she was involved. Both of you knew!” As he spoke as anger started to well up. The look in his eyes was completely alien compared to before and his voice held no soothing tones or pleasant subtleties. Those blues was full of pain and terrible, pure rage. His eyes reached Atticus and they accused him for this, that much was clear. ”By the rivers Atticus! I spent a year in exile trying to rid myself of her sorcery and I spent my time so far removed from my rivers and place of power that I almost fucking died!” Henry was furious, livid and hurt. Furious that he was forced into the whims of the witch of a woman who already cost him everything once. Livid that he had let himself be led here in the dark. And hurt that neither Atticus or Hoyle had warned him before hand, when they knew fully well what that woman done to him in the past. 

The images of a pale, Blackhaired woman bleeding to her death flashed before his eyes. A woman clad in ice and blue silk standing in the pool of blood. The Blue lady, The Ice lady. Ylva of The Frost has many names but to Henry it was all the same. The bane of his existence, the woman who cost him everything. He knew this day was gonna come, but if she had Nixies doing her bidding then she no longer had any need for a Näck like himself. Meaning she was going to simply proceed to dismantle his life again, hunt him and kill everything around him. And just how far had her reach extended that she even had Nixies doing her bidding. What kind of powers did she wield that the bastard in the Werewolves highest echelon do business with her? The thoughts were swivelling trough his head like a storm with no center, a chaotic breakdown of the essence that made Henry the sane, pleasant creature he usually was. When he finally looked up from the puddle at his feet his eyes fastened at Hoyle again. They were cold, fear and fury in a uneven mix behind the glistening, unnatural blue hues. He seemed to simmer down a little, but he looked none the less unpleasant. 

 “I told you, when I saved you a year ago.” His voice left his lips as a silent ominous and completely inhuman whisper. ”She won't stop until everyone is dead or subjugated.” His voice was eerily alike that of the Nixies he just helped kill. ”The Lady of Ice, Sovereign in the North, comes for all of us now, we killed her subjects, we stopped her plan. She takes it seriously and very personal. I hope you all are ready for a war, because the spawn of Niffleheim sure is. I have no doubt we just played into her plan with coming here. Well except for the good Doctor saving your sister Hoyle. That is gonna piss her off.”

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the calm and collected part of him screemed at him to calm down. That the enemy was out there, not here. But the sired would not listen, not even when Atticus clealy had to deal with Siya, and the fact that there was still the matter of Hoyles sister. Henry was like a cornered animal.