Having recovered from his shock at not dying from a fall upon checking his bag, confirming that this was in fact the real world - unless heaven was strangely normal - he took time to actually examine the gathering of people around him. Most of them seemed not-American simply by the way they talked, held their posture, and felt. Fearghas had always considered himself adept at being able to sense the dispositions of others. A warmth and then pang of uncertainty spread through him as he remembered thinking he was psychic earlier in life. Where was home?

When he was asked where he came from, he swallowed a shudder. "America. Why are we here?" The answers from the others showed to him that whatever was happening, strange as it was, was not limited to simply one area. It made the possibility of a mass kidnapping for some unknown reason that much less likely. And villain logic dictated that any captives would be secured, unless of course they were being tested. Tests were never good, academic or otherwise. He enjoyed trials much more.

Two people took off, apparently estranged as to the whole situation. Safety in numbers, however, appeared much more preferable than to the chance of being caught out alone. Raya's next question further reinforced Fearghas's belief that he was psychic because otherwise how would he have answered the question without it being proposed? 

"Uhm, I don't think splitting up is the best idea. I don't know any of you, and I don't know why we're here, but there is safety in numbers as the phrase goes. Maybe." Quieting down, he looked over at the tree which Raya had indicated. Checking back inside his bag, he saw that the rope had snapped , though where in the coil he couldn't tell due to all the other clutter. "If we're going somewhere, it should probably be together."