Fingers pinch air, estimating a measurement. Committing the number to ether. When she sets his hand down, it's not to bruise or to baby. She rocks back on her ass, pulls legs up criss-cross onto the cabinet.

"Good test repeats," Not amputation. (He does have two hands —) "You think others agree? To measure."

Imprecise matters less, with more to draw upon; points to smooth a curve. He'd already hear of any anomalies, but this could pair with the other one's work. Viktor. If they hope to disguise energy, the anchors are a place to begin.