Fakir was starting to get used to the nails digging into him, so long as it didn't actually cut into his flesh. He could only hope the naga understood that wasn't the most comfortable feeling in the world. Would it be offensive if he found a file and asked the snake to dull his claws a little? Probably. Maybe he could just leave it out and see if the naga noticed and used it as part of a grooming regime. Mesut had expressed interest in being clean, and if the centaur offered to help and be helped, it might be an easier way to sort of hide his distaste for being poked and prodded by sharp nails each time the snake felt like getting his attention. But with a vague shake of his mane, he snapped out of his thoughts on how to protect his skin.<br/><br/>"Blame who?" he asked, a bit dumbly, getting a bit tired of answering Mesut's endless questions. The snake seemed to posture and theorize and accuse and question faster than Fakir could breathe, and while the centaur was usually open to talking for quite a bit, he was also accustomed to long stretches of silence with only him on the road until he approached a town or city. If his thoughts were as water, Mesut absorbed it like a dry sponge, taking faster than the poor centaur could provide. And while he did not like to think of himself as stupid, he was aware he was no philosopher, poet or great thinker. He wasn't even religious, for the horse gods were more... a deep incorporation into his way of life than an actual religious calling.<br/><br/>"What? Who are slaves?" he asked, trying to swallow down a sigh. "The humans? Do you have human slaves?" Fakir blinked, turning slightly to look at the naga as he trotted along. "No, I just assumed that..." he started. How do you politely inform someone that you assumed their race was little more than glorified pets? "That they took care of you," he ended lamely. "Some humans are kind!" Fakir tried to backpedal. "Some really do care for a stranger's wellbeing, regardless of their shape. Just... it can be hard to tell humans and their intentions apart, you know?" Idiot. Of course he doesn't know. That's why he's asking. Fakir did sigh heavily this time. "I think perhaps this is a thing you will only learn by actually seeing it, not being told about it," the centaur admitted.<br/><br/>Not that he was sure that was possible with Mesut. They didn't know which humans were receptive to Mesut's people or religion, and Fakir wasn't willing to take that chance until they were closer to the coast with clear signs that humans actually liked nagas. If anything, it'd be easiest to just stuff the naga into his wagon, demand he stay there and just keep going till he found Mesut's temple and dump him there. No, it was easiest to ditch the snake right then and there. But he couldn't do it. At least not without some serious ramifications to his own psyche.<br/><br/>"My guide once said once you see the truth, you cannot unsee it," Fakir frowned. "I did not understand then. I'm still not sure I completely do. But I think you have to decide what to do with what you've seen. You can close your eyes and pretend if you think it's easier. But just because you can no longer see it doesn't mean it's not already there. Still, persueing the truths you seek... it can bring you a lot of hurt too," he shrugged. "It's just another business deal. You have to figure out if the risk is worth the payout."