Sasha was taking up the rear of the trail, his height giving him a languid stride that looked as lazy as the way he draped the polearm over one shoulder. At the moment, he carried his jingasa (hat) on one arm like a shield since the trees were shade enough and the woven reeds might be the difference between a rancid orc arrow hitting or not. Every minute or so he would roll his wrist, letting the weapon drop and whip around before setting it back away. It was far apart enough to not tire his limb while at the same time develop the muscle memory he needed to develop as a warrior, not a blacksmith. 

The complains of his 'cousin' made him look sidelong at the true barbarian of the group. He remembered being a child under the protection of the great snake, he knew that others were protected by other great beasts, he knew the great snake ate people.Did his cousin eat others?

"I certainly hope you don't plan on actually eating orc flesh..."

And with that he probably showed just how green he still was. Not grass green like a farmer with a hatchet for the first time knocking on the black gates, but clearly not as seasoned as his years should suggest.