So that was something as well, them being exotic, though he wondered if that fact held any truth for his acolytes in particular, with nagas a part of their everyday life. Mesut only assumed their union was second nature, but certainly he had doubts, he had a lot of those latey... Part of him was glad Fakir didn't take offense to the topic of the small and inadequate. He failed to voice his opinion, but the centaur certainly wasn't inadequate to him. All matters of passing on one's blood aside, Fakir had been his only salvation these past hectic nights. If he wasn't singled out and pushed out of the herd to do busywork, then he'd still be in that cart, unkempt, starved and in pain.<br/><br/>Humans brought about the same words each time, they were different, their variety caused internal conflict between different groups. Though it was interesting to see that even issues such as these, what they did with their hands, who they shared their bed with, that also brought about problems. Despite Fakir's own uneasiness around the topic, he'd look down at his front when the slit along his abdomen was pointed out, and their contrast with human genitalia. Was that the determining factor? "Not our bodies, our parts?" He softly asked, confused. What a small thing to make a fuss over, if it were all true anyway. Mesut looked up to notice the new shade on Fakir's face, the strangeness of his motions, so different from the usual, confident horse he was used to. A maid? "Never what...?" His inquiries went unanswered, and he gave a pout at how weird Fakir was being, ultimately deciding it wasn't something appropriate to talk about after all. They didn't have maids, anyway. Those who tended to the temples worshipped there, and took all of the work for themselves, out of responsibility he had been told. To pay the lower class to tend to the snakes and their homes would have defeated the purpose, at least this is what Mesut always assumed.<br/><br/>With a rebellious huff of a breath he slinked down t curl around the centaur, nose back to his leg again as he faced inward. He was successfully bribed with a back ride to let go of the late, weary conversation, as much as he realized this. It was no good to dump all of his thoughts on someone at once, even someone as seemingly wise as Fakir.<br/><br/>It wasn't hard to sleep, though he was certainly stirred much later by his face landing in the dirt after Fakir stood up. Still half asleep, he felt something fall on him, scratching it with tired claws before he stilled, not wanting to move. Just like that he was back asleep again, much better than the previous night, having still been shaken up by the event with the bandits. Somewhere in the night his body had done an effective job at coiling around a few of Fakir's legs, perhaps as he tossed and turned to find a well enough position to rest.<br/><br/>He creaked his eyes open in the early hours of dawn, but didn't move much until many minutes passed, getting used to being alert before slowly pulling himself up on his arms and looking at the coiled mess that was his body as he somehow ended up on Fakir's opposite side halfway through the night. He pushed himself over to the water's edge, dipping a hand in to test. It was much too cold but calming under his fingers, so he sat and played with the side of the stream idly until the centaur joined him that morning. The minnows were awake, swimming in droves to pick at his claws as if he hadn't bitten their heads off the day prior.<br/><br/>Mesut wondered if they would find anyone who knew of Sofya today, or if it would be another day of questions and travel. He didn't mind the company, but the longer he was far from home, the more he worried. A small voice in the back of Mesut's head was curious if they would be so welcoming after he was out and about. Would be he trouble...? Knowing of the enemies they had. The snake was certainly bitter about the whole ordeal.