[She's a little surprised by the sudden tremor of frustration, no matter how quickly it seems to dull. Her own mind has been wracked with discomforts not of her own doing over the past several weeks. They're quite noticeable because she has little ongoing physical pain to distract from it.

The question, however, is less shocking: It's a small comfort to recognize that kinship - and it's one more bit of evidence that the familiarity of her facial features is not mere coincidence.]

That's correct. It's heartening to know there are others who are from the 'same' world that I am, given the infinite possibilities... we are fortunate to have encountered one another as we did. [Though, her tone does imply, it's equally important to know that "Earth" may mean little, in the end: There are just as many possibilities.] You are...an Englishwoman?

[Gray continues to work, and her hands feel idle as she rests them on her own thighs. Was there not a second trowel handed out freely with the seedling? Still, she won't interrupt, continuing to add to Gray's tutelage pressure by waiting for the moment when her role in this joint sowing is supposed to begin. It's a little obstinate...a little rebellious in its impulse.]