"I think when life is good, people are less likely to ask questions," Fakir offered sympathetically. He knew he often felt odd when he returned to his herd. While they enjoyed his odder stories, they were quick to wave away his reports on political movements, human behavior and city locations. His face hardened when Mesut described what could have possibly led to his enslavement. Or worse. Fakir didn't care to think about worse. As if to distract himself, he started gathering Mesut's hair, briefly touselling and twisting it around to see how the strands reacted.<br/><br/>"Humans... all look the same. I mean, not really, but you can get what I mean. They're not like us," Fakir said. He didn't want to say half animal since he didn't feel like a beast, but perhaps that was just semantics. "But even though they all look the same, they're as varied as there are stars in the sky. Humans are built very differently from each other, and their size usually indicates what sort of job they do. Larger, burlier humans tend to do physical work, while smaller ones tend to be kept inside. Not always, but typically," he said before reaching into a saddlebag to pull out a few spare thongs. "But they like being the same. They say they don't, but they do. And when humans disagree..." he trailed off as he started sectioning Mesut's hair, uncomfortably sure the naga knew what he was implying.<br/><br/>A large hand rested on Mesut's shoulder briefly. It squeezed, not hard, before returning to his hair. "Perhaps. I usually ask for news whenever I stop at a city. If we hear of your home, I'll take you to it," Fakir said. Mesut hadn't looked filthy, but the raiders hadn't seemed like the sort to care for Mesut. Surely, they weren't too far from his temple. And if there was a military, the city would have to be large enough to afford it. "Until then, we should hide you in my wagon unless we're on the road. I'm not immediately familiar which settlements are friendly to your kind, other than the ones I saw with the statues," he admitted.<br/><br/>Fakir had been debating between a fishtail braid and a rope braid. He had debated on a crown but decided without pins, that might be too difficult. As soon as Mesut admitted admiring his braids, he smiled. It seemed he liked rope, and that answered Fakir's unasked question. A box braid it was. "Hmm, I'll show you in a moment. I need to wash my own mane," Fakir offered as he made quick work of Mesut's hair, which was easy since the locks were fairly straight and already slick with water, keeping the strands neatly together. The centaur soon tied the thong at the base of the braid, snorting in satisfaction. "There we are. That should keep it out of your way," he promised before raising.<br/><br/>He shed his tunic, and nearly twisting around by his human waist, tugged at a few laces before tugging his makeshift bottomwear off. Free of the once horse blanket, he carefully kicked his tail out of the tail hole, freeing his black pelt to the sun. While the black hair was flattened, both from the garment and his impromptu rider, it remained glossy. A few cuts, mostly pink now, marred the length of his body, probably from the raiders trying to attack his flanks, only to earn a rear kick. Like Mesut, he subjected himself to a few buckets of water, it took a few to coat the entirety of his body. Once he got most of the dirt and grim off, he started combing out his own hair, pausing to pull off the thongs and gather the beads out of his hair, which he carefully laid in a rag so he wouldn't lose them.<br/><br/>Then, with a disturbing dexterity, Fakir started to bend his body into a circle, straining to reach his tail. It was one of the reasons why centaurs had to remain fit. Obese centaurs would not be capable of self-grooming. Still, it was a bit of a reach, and Fakir had switched to a longer took comb that had hooked teeth, blunt but capable of gripping and pulling his tail to him. He soon finished combing his tail, which he didn't bother to decorate before settling on the ground to let Mesut watch his mane. "Alright, so I'll show you a few braids, just to show you the difference in how the look, depending on how many strands you use, if you twist the hair and how you weave it. Hair texture also comes into play," he explained before running through a few braid styles. If they were ones he normally kept, he would pause to rebead his hair and tie it with a thong, while the other ones remained slack to be brushed back out.