Very smart. It's been some time since anyone's levied that particular accusation, and the onslaught of crashing into a pillar, full speed ahead, suddenly reminds him of the natural limitations of his intellect. He should have known, but remembers now, as debris slobbers and crackles over his head, for all he crosses his arms to protect his thick, stupid skull. Their mount, at least, seems utterly uninconvenienced, dashing through obstacles as if they were carved of butter.

If not for the immediate and ongoing threat to his fragile, flesh-cased person, Hector might be impressed. But then they're out of the thick of the guttering dust and wayward stone, and the worst of it's accrued, feverishly, toppled on their pursuers. He hears moans, hears hurt, hears... braying.

Sees the rubble, a mountain over the downed animal, who struggles to breathe his last. Prolonged, unnecessary agony.

"...stop the rhinoceros." A man of a single mind. But his voice is now limpid. "I need to put an end to that."