"Don't worry," Captain Marvel says. He adjusts his weight as he lands, countering the choppy waves. Solomon's wisdom was useful for a lot of things, including, surprisingly, watercraft. Not that a little water would be a bad thing, but if there was a trace of blood in there...

He broadens his stance, steadying raft a little better. There. That ought to keep Octavius from worrying. Marvel's dripping wet, but seems unbothered by the Antarctic chill. "This area's clear, but about half a mile to the west we've got three selkies in enough blood that I can't get my hands on them without being contaminated." He gestures helpfully. "I was hoping you'd be able to use your legs to get them out, Spider-Man."