Apophis turned his head to Moorhouse when he spoke. The response to his title, "good", made him feel a little more welcomed. When he went to embrace his hand, he had to hold off a bit. It was slightly tight at first, but gradually it was respectfully firm. It was difficult for him to even try not to stare at the other three, but the woman's skin looked strikingly familiar. If one of the elders of the old world were here, he/she probably would have mistaken this woman for Golemite royalty due to the brilliant luster.<br/><br/>The man in black with the weapons was quick as he exchanged only a nod. He could see out of his peripheral vision that the one in armor was staring at him. Apophis took note that he was human, or at least looked human. Even the eye catching reflection on his armor made him somewhat jealous; only if he was born with skin that had such a sheen.<br/><br/>To everyone he probably seemed a little nervous, and he was. He finally looked at the armored man, and watched him nod in his direction. A nod was a little too uncomfortable for the skin around his neck, so he gleamed a toothy smile for him and watched him lead the man in black to the instructed bunk area. Apophis shyly exchanged a glance to Moorhouse and the woman one last time, following shortly behind the two. A few seconds of thought finally got him to realize that the woman moved with great speeds into the ship, leaving him in her dust.  It would be better that he personally got acquainted with each member of the ship inside instead of in the hanger. He stuck to this mentality when he vaguely noticed another shouting the word "sir" behind him en route to the innards of the ship.