“Why do you want to wish for global domination anyhow?”

_Control_, Kahvin heard in her thoughts, but didn’t speak it aloud. Instead, she kept her eyes forward, slicing through the thick brush with her pocket knife, branches snapping away with crisp, deliberate motion.

“Why wouldn’t you?” she said finally, not bothering to turn around. “You haven’t even told me what you're wishing for. Why should I tell you more about my motives?”

“Touché,” Figgy grumbled, half under her breath.

Kahvin allowed herself the faintest smirk. She didn’t trust her, couldn’t, not with what she suspected Figgy really was. The way she spoke, the way she carried herself even when covered in river mud- no common thief had posture like that.

Branches closed in again, thicker now, the air almost syrupy with humidity.

“You always dodge that question,” Kahvin added, voice flat. “Makes me think your wish is even more severe than mine.”

Figgy didn’t respond right away. Kahvin could hear the crunch of her boots behind her, then a sigh, part weary, part calculating.

“Or maybe you don’t want anyone to know what happens if you get it,” Kahvin shot back, pausing just long enough to glance over her shoulder.

Their eyes met, briefly, and in Figgy’s, she saw the flicker of something. Not fear. Not quite guilt. Something closer to anticipation.