Zmija, on foot, leads the party through the rough hill terrain of the Crimean. He is very fleet of foot, not a match for a horse in any way but on this terrain he can easily keep in the lead but surely he must get tired after jogging so far.

He seems unconcerned about any sort of riding order and seems to be happy to let the party sort this out for themselves.

Jean rides his horse into Zmija's path.

"Explain yourself. Why do you request a mounted patrol and then insist on slowing us with a man afoot?"

Zmija stops and smiles at the Frankish knight..."I am different from most man brave sir knight. I am trained in a mystic art of body alchemy that allows me to withstand much pain, my body is also trained for quick travel. I would not dare to race a fast horse but against a heavily barded mount like yours I would dare say that I am near it's equal in speed and surpass it in endurance."