Fakir silently joined Mesut by the river, waterskin on hand to refill it. At first, he thought the naga was hungry again, and trying to catch a few more fish before they hit the road. A glance told him he was wrong, the naga merely seeming to sift his claws among the fish that curiously nibbled at his digits, despite those same claws being their doom last night. "Careful not to get wet," he said as he moved to the shallow falls to fill the waterskin, preferring the fast flowing water over the lazy stream. Besides, it meant he wouldn't have to bend down. Fakir shuddered as the cold water splashing on his arms as he raised the skin to catch it. Once it felt heavy, he tipped it back a moment to drink before filling it again.<br/><br/>From days to months to years of habit, Fakir had soon had their impromptu camp cleaned, the firepit buried with kicking dirt, then a few solid stomps of his hooves. He walked shallowly into the water to clean the dirt and ash out, shaking it mostly loose from his shoes. They weren't new, but he still shouldn't need to be reshod for a fortnight. If they entered a larger town with available grooms, and hopefully farriers, he'd have them look at it since Fakir also hadn't exactly been planning to fight bandits. Besides, if they were going to the coast, the salt was likely to wear his shoes out more, and he'd have to get his hooves trimmed.<br/><br/>Such idle thoughts were what filled his head, much too early for Mesut's complicated and philosophical questions. The centaur was not sure if the naga was an idiot with keen observation, or if he actually was an intellect whose mind had been stifled. As if sharing thoughts, Fakir too, worried if Mesut would be held in contempt for being privy to these new revelations. But it could not be considered his fault. He couldn't help temple raiders, could he? No, definitely too early for such thoughts. Or he didn't care for such thoughts at all. Naivety or not, Mesut would no longer be his responsibility once the centaur returned him to his home. Indeed, he wasn't his responsibility now. Still, Fakir could not bring himself to abandon the snake and did not care to explore why.<br/><br/>The centaur soon had himself hooked up to the wagon. "Let me walk and stretch a bit before you mount me," he said to the naga, not ready for the snake's heavy weight until he got muscles moving. Like before, he practically launched the wagon into motion behind him, pulling them back to the road and waiting for the wheels to turn easily so that he only keeping up momentum rather than pulling. A gesture indicated he was fine with Mesut mounting him now, welcoming the snake to enjoy his body heat and the sun to bask in.