While he's not clinging to the Ringmaster, Herbert is close enough to get hit, even if he's still moving and the ice hits him in the shoulder. It hurts, but nothing is more important to him in the moment than his irritation.

"You are interrupting my work--not to mention scientific procedure!" he snaps hoarsely, glaring up at Frost. He tucks the syringe into his pocket so he can toe off one of his dumb cat paw shoes and pick it up with his good arm to huck it at Frost.

He's not very good at throwing, especially when depleted by two kinds of death magic, so it doesn't even reach Frost but he thinks it communicates his point anyway.