For the first time in what seemed like hours, Mesut fell silent to Fakir's struggles to keep up. For a stretch of time he just laid there, strewn over the horse's back and glared up at Fakir's face, nose wrinkled up and frown pursed. The centaur sort of reminded him of when he'd ask the monks so many questions, and they gave him vague answers or waved him off like he was being a bother. Sometimes they appeared to struggle with the onslaught of inquiries but now Mesut was contemplating that had been a ruse for their unwillingness to reveal truths. But on the other hand, it was hard to pin such accusations on Fakir, as irritated as the snake had grown with him. Perhaps all that anger was just being directed at the closest thing to him, but it was hard to truly believe someone like this would treat him like another chore. If that were the case, Mesut would've been left to the roadside back at the creak, surely.<br/><br/>'Payout' he said, the naga mulled over ideas of what exactly Fakir meant by that. As a means to cool himself down, he leaned up, chest pressing against the small of the centaur's back as he rest his head on him and raked claws through his mane in slow, blind motions. There wasn't much in the way of knots to pull apart or debris to pick out, but it was a grooming gesture, comforting to at least the snake alone. The ride itself presented small difficulties, perhaps he scratched the centaur's neck and back a little too roughly with a bump in their stride, or yanked a strand of hair here and there, but otherwise Mesut did best to be gentle. He breathed heavy on Fakir's back, hoping the circulation would cool the heat in his head and unravel the mess of questions he was fretting over. This time, Mesut didn't even consider asking permission, despite they made such a big deal about grooming between themselves before.<br/><br/>"Where are we going first...?" Mesut asked softly, staring off to the side as foliage passed them by. If it were a kind city, he could observe much in the ways of humans and how they spent their day to day lives. He saw merchants and pilgrims travel to their temple often, but never witnessed them thrive outside the holy grounds.<br/><br/>Mesut frowned sadly, grimacing as he brought himself to pour more questions that troubled him. They were a never ending torrent of curiosity, worry, and dread. "What happens if nothing is there..? Home, I mean. What will you do...?" It was something he, in many ways, didn't want an answer to. Mesut didn't want to think of a possibility where he had nothing left and the centaur just gave up and left him to his own devices. Nothing was keeping them together but the threat of guilt, was that not the truth of it? "Would we find another place? For me?" As if he could have some bearing over Fakir's answer, he wrapped a single hand around the centaur's side, shoulders scrunched up as he leaned in even closer somehow. "Is all this a burden...?"