Emberflame Ridge there's no turning back now

. . . "Olive?"

A voice so foggy-familiar it could've been conjured by his own mind.  His ears swiveled and he turned his head 'round so fast he nearly made himself sick.  The boy staggered over his own too-large paws as one of them caught on a patch of ice when he turned around.  He caught himself at the last moment before he fell, then leaned against the rock he'd been using to break the frozen winds.

The girl in front of him was colored just right that she could've been Seabreeze, had he not seen her frozen body entwined with Olive's.  And her eyes, too — Ibis?  He said her name before it had even clearly registered in his head, and as it tumbled from his mouth it seemed to catch him by surprise.  It had to be, though — who else would know his mother?  Who else would look like home?

But oh, she'd spoken!  No, sorry, he said, glancing down at where he had slid to take a step closer.  I don't even know that you'd remember me, because truly, had she not looked like his mama, he wouldn't have recalled her, but we grew up together.