Moving overland is very different from sailing.
It's traveling. They're similar to that extent. But the dangerous plodding of horses is not the same as the gentle swaying of the boat, rocked by the sea; each footstep is awkward, and her motion is best described as bouncing.
Sandry and Briar, one who has a great deal more experience, the other much too quick on his feet, are doing much better. They don't look as though they're dreading the rest of the journey to Gold Ridge.
Daja does not want to wake up the next morning.
So she avoids the two of them, as well as she can, when they're connected mind-to-mind, and it's Tris she rides beside. Tris is red-faced with effort, the way Daja knows she would be if she weren't blessed with the dark skin of her lineage.
They share their awkwardness, and her brother-by-blood was right; sharing it isn't so bad.