Qebhet laughed softly. "Oh, much less," she agreed. Even if she had been inclined to fight Robin for the honour, she would have made a poor Merry Man. She had never been a rebel; she lived quietly and kept to her traditions, the need to uphold the cosmic balance that was ma'at ingrained deeply within her core. (And yet, could it not be said that balance was what the Merry Men fought for, too? Rebelling against the isfet that infected society? Perhaps that was why she found herself liking them.) "We have to falsify documents sometimes. We look after immortals when they die. So... technically I've stolen some bodies...?" She made a face, realising as she said it how it sounded. "Sorry. Was that too dark?"