Fakir wracked his head for a Sofya. It might be a bit further south than he usually traveled if Mesut said he could hear the sea from it. But he had traveled to the sea a few times. For some reason, the closer to the water, the better the glass blowing. Perhaps it was all the open sun. The people seemed to revel in white stone and bright glass that scattered the sun's light into colorful shards across the walls and the ground until the earth glittered as much as the sea. Fakir recalled his first trip to a port city, amazed how people seemed able to see at all with all the various distractions and sights. With such vigorous winds, the bays were even kept relatively stench free from the fishing wharfs, mostly smelling of salt and sun instead.<br/><br/>He was so occupied, he hadn't even noticed Mesut had apparently misheard him. The centaur was fine with the naga out in the open unless he spotted or heard other humans. But he could correct him later. They could head to Khnum. It was a closed in inlet that while it wasn't the busiest port, it was doing quite well. Due to the dreary weather, it was more used as a stop for ships to resupply before moving to other destinations, the wealthy content to own the land but live elsewhere.<br/><br/>Being quite used to long silent hours on the road, it took Fakir quite a while to remember the naga, or why he was concentrating on going south in the first place. When he did, his gait slowed, human waist twisting to check on Mesut. With the driver seat empty, the centaur assumed the naga had gone to the wagon bed to doze off. He did not imagine the snakekin, or at least the ones from Mesut's temple, were not accustomed to working. When Fakir had been cleaning the naga off, he had held still to his ministrations, seemingly content just to be tended to at all. The length of his hair was another sign of luxury. Hair seemed to be a sign of status, no matter the species. The longer it was, the less work you did. Fakir supposed his was long too, but to be fair, it was a mane, and he tied it up to work.<br/><br/>Mesut had also seemed... Not soft? But the naga certainly wasn't muscular. Well, he was. His tail was doubtless all muscle. 'My thoughts are a mess,' Fakir sighed inwardly. But Mesut was rather androgynous. Fakir had sort of guessed the naga was a male, and the snake hadn't argued. Which meant he could still be wrong, but it didn't seem so so far. When he had told Mesut it was customary for his herd to only groom their own gender, the naga had seemed to take it as a cue that that would present no obstacle for Fakir to groom him too. Or maybe the naga just expected the centaur to tend to him no matter what.<br/><br/>The centaur nearly reared, startled out of his thoughts as Mesut simultaneously called out to him and mount his back. He did back up, cursing loudly as the wagon, still moving forward from momentum, collided with his rear. He stifled the instinctive urge to kick with his legs, knowing he would just toss Mesut and damage his wagon. As the wagon slowed enough, the naga slid off the centaur's back, seemingly oblivious to the pain he'd just caused Fakir and moving off at a rapid speed. Fakir continued to hiss and groan, wishing at that moment he was just a tad shorter so he could rub his sore bottom. "Mesut!" Fakir snapped, turning to yell at the snake to notice him gone. With an aggravated snort, Fakir pulled his wagon well off the side of the road, kicked the brakes on and unhitched himself before following the flat path of grass Mesut had left behind him,<br/><br/>"You nearly caused me to crash my wagon for a stream?" he asked irritably when he reached the crest of the slope. With a sigh, Fakir turned sideways, then started to carefully pick his way down, testing the dirt to make sure it could support his weight. Once he reached the shallows, he walked right into the water, causing some of the fish to scatter before sitting down, splashing Mesut in the process. Fakir let out a satisfied groan as the cold water lapped at his sore bottom, not caring that his 'pants' were getting soaked. They'd dry as he walked in the sun. Looking down as the small fish Mesut was playing with, he looked up at the snake. "Want to eat one?"