Wow, just wow, way to make him feel bad when he's attempting to lighten the mood after they slaughtered that terrifying spider. (Frankly, a dragonborn should be able to handle some rocks here and there, shouldn't they? For whatever it may be worth, at least he'll have a chance at redeeming himself here soon.) Because following Jingyi's complaint, he briefly slows his pace, making certain he's not in danger of running into anything before casting a glance over his shoulder.

“Apologies, my friend, would you like to borrow my shoes?” This is obviously the polite thing to do, right? And, if Jingyi's truly that worried, Sizhui won't let him be fussed.

Not to mention it'd be on him for being assumptive about things, as per usual with dragon stuff, but Jingyi thankfully doesn't mind correcting Sizhui and reminding him they are still oh-so-very similar in other ways. At least there's something he couldn't have anticipated: having his hair blown into his face after he's whirled back around to continue running along down the path. “Augh!” Better now when he's got his usual topknot done up and doesn't have to fight as much brushing it aside, narrowed eyes directing Jingyi's way once they're nearly neck and neck.

“Rude,” he emphasizes, smirking in spite of himself, no real heat behind his protestation. Does this make them even? Who knows, but his pace has instinctively evened with Jingyi's so he can make sure no actual accidents happen during their dash toward camp.