"Very seriously." Tseng doesn't bother to dignify the rest with an answer. Even among his fellow Turks, he is an outlier because he has never truly had a partner. Any trouble he's ever been in, he's had to see himself right back out of again, alone. He has never had the luxury of one dedicated pair of eyes on his back, but Rude is a grown man and can do what he likes.

Rude won't be making this trip alone. Tseng has switched to jogging pants and a dry-fit tank, along with more suitable shoes. His hair is fastened neatly atop his head, and in Rude's absence, he's begun stretching. He still is, because if he is to lead, then of course it will be by example.

"Have you ever tried to fight at this elevation before?" he asks, wracking his mind to try and remember. Hard to do, when he's bowing into a split, stretching a leg that seems to bend impossibly far, folding his entire body in half with ease. "You are at a severe disadvantage. Men train for months to compete here. We have one night."