He furrowed his brow up at Fakir. Coupled with the oddness of their conversation the night prior, he had started to bud new sentiments. But for now, he simply sat on those thoughts, unsure if it'd be wise to complain or not, or if he was the one in the wrong. Maybe it made sense for him to be treated like he didn't know the water was so cold this hour of morning, given his ignorance towards most that the centaur had taught him... but it didn't make it any less irritating. Wordlessly, he nodded, poking a minnow, which caused it to swim away. Mesut retracted his claws from the stream, moving over to pull himself up into the wagon while Fakir filled up on water for the ride. his body coiled again, defending itself from the chill that still lingered, and he brought the blanket with him.<br/><br/>As they rolled uphill and back onto the road, the sun started to shine through again in the clearing, leading Mesut to comfortably prop himself half over the drivers seat. He stared at Fakir, waiting to be let on. Despite any bitterness they occasionally shared, the snake wasn't so petty as to turn down the opportunity for some heat on his belly. When prompted, he slowly reached out, with more ease and care than last time, having learned his lesson. Mesut still more claws than naught though, using them to pull himself over as he slid comfortably onto Fakir's back. The length of his body bunched up, slung over the horse's haunches with a practiced balance. He held his hands around Fakir's front again, though loosely, as if he was going to finish his nap. Instead, he took a moment to sigh and settle down, before quietly asking, just loud enough to be heard over the wheels.<br/><br/>"Were you lying before? When you said my questions were fine...? Because it was late, right?" He scrunched up his nose as if annoyed, unable to let it go. Most of his thoughts he had, his ideas, it was impossible to just bottle them up and live on a hunch. He quickly found himself caving in to curiosity, "But you were acting strange, no-- nervous? I know what that feeling is, Fakir..." It was obvious he was a little upset, and doing his best to conjure up some level of experience. "I'm not used to such things as that, what we were talking about, being so odd. We never hide things, our business is always public, the invitations are always so casual... But it doesn't mean I was always used to it." Maybe a useless observation of his, maybe something intelligent, Mesut could never guess. But he was no foreigner to insecurity, having to learn to be so up-front about accepting the advances of the priests was a trait he needed to be taught. It was easy to guess that it wasn't so normal for those who didn't live with the same men he did.<br/><br/>Perhaps a little sadistic, or even manipulative, he started to scratch the intersection of Fakir's bodies again, this time with much less exploration. "Or do you not want to talk about it...? Because you're ready to sleep. Sharing stables with maids..." He stared up at Fakir a touch too uncomfortably. Mesut rarely smiled, but one wouldn't have been out of place on that face of his, a little predatory for his own good. Maybe it was the fact he was a born predator, despite the domestication.. Or it could have been the same way he treated the monks when he wanted something, knowing what to say and how to say it, playing on wants and fears that humans seemed to revel in, just so he could get a treat or the pools to himself for an evening.<br/><br/>Switching back to his usual self, he chimed "I don't usually wander into stables, the humans kept horses and mules, and tended to them on their own... Did I say? It would be blasphemous to push their upkeep of the temple onto the lower class, Gulpasa would be displeased." Mesut had stopped his light clawing at Fakir's side, draping his arms down to swing carefree at the horse's sides again.