Like when he had laid down, Fakir remained in fairly the same position standing, if slightly tilted back to keep his legs from bending as he slept. And while he didn't snore, he did breathe rather deeply, his lungs a bit larger than most creatures to supply oxygen to his entire body. He occasionally would huff in his sleep, or waken to move and stretch his legs, then fall unconscious again as if it never happened. It was not until sunlight began to filter in through the canopy of the wooded area did Fakir stir more soundly. His ears flickered, slapping against his skull, which seemed to startle him awake. A habitual swing of his head to scan for predators, animal or human, really got Fakir waking, and he soon groaned as he stretched sleep numbed muscles, hooves stamping to get blood pumping in his powerful limbs.<br/><br/>When he looked down to meet Mesut's eyes, the centaur nearly jumped out of his skin. He hadn't forgotten the naga was there, but he hadn't expected to look right into his eyes first thing in the morning. Fakir took a breath before smiling. "Good morning," he greeted, though more out of habit than actually meaning that particular morning was more pleasant than another. Though, depending on how long the raiders had held Mesut, this might be a better morning than recent ones. A quick glance at the naga informed him the clothing wouldn't be used, nor the bread and cheese eaten. Fakir reached in for both, stuffing the bread in his mouth as he tossed the crumbs out of the tunic to fold it up and put it back in his seat. While he was there, he retrieved his modified saddlebags and tossed them around his waist to settle on his withers. Fakir's flat teeth made quick work of the bread in the meantime and the cheese quickly followed. It would have to do until they reached the next settlement.<br/><br/>He returned to Mesut, taking a quick swig of the water from the pouch before leaving it for the naga. "Alright, Mesut. Let's get you to that well. We can clean up, restock our water and get a move on," Fakir said as he walked to the front. "I think there's enough room to partially sit in the driver's seat if you like. Or you can lean over it," he said as he carefully backed himself up between the two vehicle shafts. The wagon was originally built for a human to hitch a horse to it, but his herd had bought it quite some time ago and rigged it so Fakir could hitch himself in. It certainly helped that he needed nothing like a bridle or lead, which actually cut part of the time down. Once the centaur was firmly tied in, he used his weight to back the wagon up, making it turn.<br/><br/>"Alright, hang on. Need a bit of speed to go forward," Fakir warned Mesut before taking one more step back. Then, with a heavy thrust, Fakir tossed his weight forward, jerking the wagon into a forward momentum. His hooves dug into the low sloped hill, stubbornly dragging the wagon behind him as he ascended back to the road. Luckily, it hadn't rained for days so he hadn't had to work with mud, or they would have been stuck. Once the wagon was on packed dirt, Fakir slowed his gait until he was moving at an easy lope, using the length of his legs rather than the muscles now that the wheels were moving smoothly.<br/><br/>Perhaps it hadn't been far to Fakir, but the journey back to the well was considerably longer to a human, which would explain why the man who had returned to camp had been red with effort, and Fakir had arrived after him so shortly. The centaur had soon spotted the well and slowed his pace to a walk, pulling the wagon alongside it. With a few practiced tugs, he freed himself from the vehicle shafts before making his way round to the rear of the wagon. "Alright, Mesut. Let's get you cleaned up a bit," he gestured the naga over so he could help the snake down, a comb from his saddlebag already in one hand.