When the horse turned to leave he nearly jumped forward, thankful that the stranger turned his attention back to him before Mesut had the chance to do so. He didn't know if he could move very far like this, or maybe he had more strength left in him than he thought. Compared to the occasional fever he'd only ever been burdened with, he could be dying for all he knew. But for whatever reason, the composed calm of the horse soothed him. No one was being frantic, allowing him time to breathe, emotionally and physically.<br/><br/>Mesut lifted his hands to clasp the centaur's shoulders as his wound was worked on, stifling a whip of his lower half as the pressure stung him, not wanting to throw away the help he was lucky enough to find in this strange, cruel world. "I can't stay out here. More than not wanting to." Though he'd thought about it for a long time, staring at the space between them as his body was wrapped in cloth, it was the first time he admitted it to himself, let alone be heard, "I don't know how." Mesut looked frustrated and confused, but appreciated the aide all the same, it felt nice to not feel his own blood ooze down his side.<br/><br/>At the question, he perked his head up suddenly, visibly gritting his fangs with a touch of insult. "Slither...?" The snake let out a huff, tail beating against one of the wide wheels of the cart for a moment before he pulled his body up into the wagon and pushed his weight forward with some of the strength he had left in him. Hands grasped around the human waist of the kind stranger whether he willed it or not, claws digging in perhaps a little too deep for comfort, but less with malicious intent and more to steady himself as he hoisted the length of his weight to sling over hairy haunches.<br/><br/>He'd settled it, intent on riding the weird creature, if he were really like a horse then his weight shouldn't be a problem, though that could've always just been him underestimating himself. Claws trailed up to his savior's clothed torso, holding tightly with his own front and face pressed into his back, as if he'd lose his balance the moment the thing started to walk. Mesut refused to move, indignant. He decided this is how he would get around for the time being, the idea of moving through the dirt and weeds made him sick. There was nothing more uncomfortable than sliding over sharp rocks or fallen thorns, bits of bark, coarse roots.<br/><br/>Part of him wanted to ask where they were heading, if he could go home, but for the time being, anywhere was better than here, and the heat of another body beneath him made him remember just how little sleep he'd gotten these past few days. Perhaps he couldn't drift away on top of the horse, but Mesut deigned it good enough to slump his cheek between the man's shoulder blades and rest his weary eyes some.