The Heartwood i'm having a breakdown, drinking at a playground; tequila for one

Another wolf cloaked in gold, this time a woman with dark accents and icy eyes. There's something familiar to her features, a sharpness he's only seen in one other face aside his own. The greeting throws him off even more. Hi. Do I know you? He can't help asking, even knowing he doesn't. Or uh, do you know anyone named Alessia? Maybe that's a better question — because all he sees right now is the face of his birth mother, colors inverted.