Atlan looked around, no one seemed to mind the fact her hands were melting, he took a handkerchief and wiped her hands, but they continued to drip away, in fear of what she was he tried to escape only to find himself stuck, he held in his fear and looked as if it didn't bother him. He took the soup with a thank you, though it seared his hands he held in the pain and ate quickly, dripping bits of the boiling hot stew on the frozen bits of his loafers. He was going to have nightmares about this, maybe they'd join the ones about the murderer.