Ferris visibly spread out his limbs as the rokea released him. The merman took deep breaths closing his eyes a bit. He was having a hard time adjusting to the temperature and the lack of water. He loved the feeling of being hugged by the ocean. It held and rocked him so calmly. 

"You're right... I'm right..." He responded laxly. He yawned, lungs filling with warm sunshine and marine air. It was so strange, and tingled so much, it was painful. Ferries coughed, shiny hair shaking and quivering a bit. He was hurting a bit. It was like trying to start up a motorboat that has long kissed its glory days goodbye. There was clanking scrap metal, and oil sputtering everywhere, in all directions. In a similar way, the alveoli in his lungs struggled to flow and breathe. He gasped for air, not used to the air in his lungs, so light and cloudy. 

Grey eyes sparkled in confusion. "Group? What group?" There was no group for him to call his own. It was true he hadn't even interacted with other merfolk! Even if he had, he didn't have any clear memory. He sighed out in confusion. Biting his lip and beginning to break a small sweat, the male thought carefully. He didn't want to anger Rus. He was a little bit scary, though his voice was sweet.