[ Mary-Margaret seems split equally between apologetic and something like knowingly proud. It's a little counter-intuitive, the affirming quality Henry's independence inspires in her, when she figures it ought to be the other way around. But Henry is singularly gifted and...well, different in enough ways that she'd need more hands to count them on her fingers, suffice to say.
She can't help pinching her own arm (in what she hopes is a discreet way) as if to check it's not a dream, not that that's helped before come to think of it. Hm. Cameron doesn't just look like Emma after all; she is Emma in looks, which is saying something rather different about particulars, save for the hair. Unlike Emma though, Mary-Margaret detects a quietness here and she wonders what that would mean - in a dream or otherwise. If she's wrong to connect them.
Blinking and then shaking her head once as if to clear it, she then nods. ] That sounds like Henry.
He takes after his mom.
[ She says it without thinking, and then, eyes a bit wide (a bit of a giveaway) she quickly adds, half turning away, ] So um...you have...no idea which way he might've been going? Not that I'd know...my way around either but...
[ It seems strange to say she feels responsible for him when staring at a perfect doppelganger of his mother, so she just lets herself trail off there, hands folded in front of her to keep from wringing them. ]
no subject
She can't help pinching her own arm (in what she hopes is a discreet way) as if to check it's not a dream, not that that's helped before come to think of it. Hm. Cameron doesn't just look like Emma after all; she is Emma in looks, which is saying something rather different about particulars, save for the hair. Unlike Emma though, Mary-Margaret detects a quietness here and she wonders what that would mean - in a dream or otherwise. If she's wrong to connect them.
Blinking and then shaking her head once as if to clear it, she then nods. ] That sounds like Henry.
He takes after his mom.
[ She says it without thinking, and then, eyes a bit wide (a bit of a giveaway) she quickly adds, half turning away, ] So um...you have...no idea which way he might've been going? Not that I'd know...my way around either but...
[ It seems strange to say she feels responsible for him when staring at a perfect doppelganger of his mother, so she just lets herself trail off there, hands folded in front of her to keep from wringing them. ]