[ The smile she gives Aziraphale is wry. Sometimes she forgets not everyone saw what she could do on the beach that first day - night? - of her arrival. They'd shared cake and little conversation, not powers. ]
Watch.
[ And she looks at the stack of wood, stretches out one thing arm, hand shaped as if she's reaching for it, as if her fingers are claws about to dig in. Lips pressed together in concetration, as a stack of wood much too heavy for even strong, adult men to lift begins to wobble, at first, and then lift smoothly on Eleven's calm exhale. ]
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Watch.
[ And she looks at the stack of wood, stretches out one thing arm, hand shaped as if she's reaching for it, as if her fingers are claws about to dig in. Lips pressed together in concetration, as a stack of wood much too heavy for even strong, adult men to lift begins to wobble, at first, and then lift smoothly on Eleven's calm exhale. ]