Duskfire Glacier all this rotting fruit with you

Slender arms wrapped around her waist and suddenly the golden dove was tumbling, toppling headfirst into the snowbank with Iana still half coiled around her -- the world obscured by a cold blur of white as they collided and crashed into the soft drifts of pale powder. Imaq struggled blindly for a minute in the snow, tangled up with Iana's limbs, until at last her head popped through the surface and she cast a slightly worried glance around to make sure Iana wasn't trapped beneath the smothering weight of the snowflakes. 

Spotting her friend's face only a few inches from her own, relief filled her tropical gaze before she threw her head back in a fit of laughter. Breathless, her gaze returned to Iana's and her lips faltered -- as if she wished to say something or make a joke but couldn't manage around the dying giggles still escaping her.