Wolf RPG

He moved north for a while, to the coast. Then he followed some game trails until the earth became less green, and more rocky. Despite the summer heat this place was mild, even a touch cold when the wind picked up, and Willow ducked against gusts across the moraine every so often, lest they blow him over. The closer he got to the mountains the more lush the surroundings became.
He could smell water, but he couldn't hear it flowing. There were swarms of bugs lingering at his eye-level and they parted as he moseyed along; sometimes they'd land on his face and he'd snort, or a black fly would land on him and try to nip him through his coat, and he'd twitch and pick up his pace.
Eventually, Willow came upon a series of pools. They were surprisingly still, and he wondered where they'd come from. These pools didn't look like they belonged where they were situated — there was nothing to indicate a river had overflowed, or any rain had happened recently; the ground around them was bone-dry, and besides, there were larvae growing in the depths.
WIllow sniffed cautiously at the surface of these pools but did not drink, wary of them.

Lilia had not been as far as the Moraine since the winter, and was keen to investigate the area once more when the winds weren't as icy and cruel. She'd been forced to find shelter for an entire night on her previous scouting mission, to avoid being tumbled over and over by the wreckhouse winds. Determind to retrace some of her steps and see how the lands had changed since the snow had melted, Lilia ranged East, remaining in the valley between the Glacier and the Sunspire Mountains. 

The expanse of grey stone was familiar enough, but she was surprised to see that very little, if anything, grew in the rocky, dry riverbed. Glacier-fed, it could have had mineral-rich earth, if it wasn't completely covered with rubble. Any weeds would have to be incredibly resilient to grow from seed to flower in the area. Only the trees along the edges extended a splash of evergreen to the scenery. 

She snorted as a fly flitted about her nostrils, noticing then that there were more than she'd expected for there to be in an area with no lake. But as she continued on, she could see why. Curiously, the area was full of little crater-like pools of water, a breeding ground for any insect that relied on stagnant water. Given the fact she'd never seen the area without snow, she assumed it was a normal occurrence- and was marked as a place to avoid in peak mosquito season. 

She snapped at the flies when they came too near her face, and given her short fuse, she quickly became agitated and without a second thought, dropped down into one of the puddles of water and submerged as much of her body as she could, before stepping out and rolling in some thick, powdery dust. Ashen, she picked herself up and shook, wondering if this was even a good idea as the dust mixed with the water on her pelt, and began to dry in a thin layer of cakey earth. 

Surprisingly, she didn't find the temperature uncomfortable, but felt herself growing hot beneath her pelt when she saw another wolf on the Moraine and pursed her lips together.

A few meters away from where Willow sulked over the water's surface, there was another wolf. He noticed them when they began to dip in and out of the pools, and noted how unaffected they appeared to be with the mud; the bugs on the other hand, swarming around their dark face, were an obvious irritation. Willow's ears pivoted attentively to the sound of teeth snapping through open air, and he had to make a quick decision: stick around and watch the show, or flee before those teeth came close to him.
Of course he would opt for sticking around, because what iron-spined man would run from a yearling like this? As he began to saunter around the larger of the pools he had been investigating, the stranger was picking themselves up for another shake.
He chuffed a greeting as he got closer, and snorted through some of the bugs as they turned their attention upon his snout. Never seen so many bugs in on pl-- he began to comment on the situation, but the flies and mosquitos and whatever-elses saw the open mouth and before Willow knew it, at least one fat black body had found itself deep-throated in his gullet.
He looked like a balloon about to burst for a second, and began to sputter and gag, until the bug had either been swallowed or spat out; during the chaos of that moment he wasn't sure what happened, only that it wasn't very manly or attractive.

Fortunately, the stranger's first response was merciful, and the freckled wolf didn't pause to make fun of her. Instead, she seemed to be agitated as well, sharing in the misery of their current situation- though the statement the other made was cut short when a bug flew into her mouth. Lilia grimaced; after chasing crickets with Mulherin, she knew just about how gross that felt and tasted, and watched, cringing, as the other spat the bug out as well as they could. 

"Yeah, thith plathe ith kinda mitherable," She said. She gestured. "Wath't like thith the latht time I wath here," She commented, disappointment clear in her tone. Not like it'd been much better- the winds had been cruel and cold. She determined, then, that the Moraine was indeed a miserable place, and probably her least favourite now. She stared down into the nearest pool of water, only to notice just then that there were indeed bugs in the water as well. 

She'd just been in the water, soaking in it- and felt her skin begin to crawl. 

She jigged sideways, disgusted, only to find she'd blundered into a small cloud of bugs, and growled in distaste. "Fuck thith!" She said, and began to trot briskly toward the mountain, where she hoped to find a clear stream. "C'mon," She called out- an invitation for the other to follow her, if she also wanted to seek some reprieve from the bugs.

The taste that bloomed in the back of his throat was simultaneously bitter and sour, and even after the bug was dislodged he thought there was a twitching leg or something caught in his teeth; there wasn't, but the skin in his mouth was crawling with ick.

The stranger's lisping voice was a little hard to track at first. Willow focused as best he could, trying to drag his tongue across the roof of his mouth to dislodge the flavor that lingered there, scraping it against his teeth a moment after — and was more than happy to escape the clouds of bugs.

The dark girl's invitation was welcomed. He gave a last wheezing cough and spat in to one of the pools, sauntering after her.

She wasn't sure if it was paranoia, or if she had actually picked up some of the swimming larvae in the pool she'd bathed in, but her skin felt as though things were burrowing through her fur and into her skin. The reality of the situation was that the dust had turned to mud, and now dried, tweaking her fur a bit. The more she moved, the more she felt the occasional twinge of a clump of mud being pulled apart, and was spurred into a lope, thinking it was bugs trying to eat their way into her skin. 

She loped, but the path toward the mountain was not exactly easy going. Not only was the ground rough and rocky, but the vernal pools were everywhere! She had to dodge this way and that, all while trying to avoid hovering clouds of black flies here and there as well. 

She veered to avoid the latter, and found herself tumbling forward and into another pool of water, head over heels, with a loud splash.

Willow thought eating a bug had been a bad feeling, but he could tell by the way the stranger moved that she was experiencing something much worse. The girl tripped on the edge of one pool and nearly face-planted in to it, but Willow saw the moment coming and tried to move closer, hoping the timing worked out and he could save her from the plunge.

That isn't exactly how it happened, though.

Quick as he was, the momentum of the girl's sudden collapse was much faster; he'd just reached her when she went in, and while Willow knew the pool was there and thought himself quick enough to avoid his own blunder, he slipped nonetheless.

His front-end went in to the pool and the water shot up his nose. Fortunately he could backpedal and escape the grip of the pool readily enough. The girl, on the other hand, was soaking and bobbing in the center. A plume of bugs erupted from where both wolves had landed, buzzing around them both.

As awful as that had felt, Willow could only spit a fountain of water from his mouth and sink back in the mud on his ass, and began to laugh.

She exhaled a growl that became nothing but an eruption of bubbles underwater, though her pitch lifted when she felt something tumble against her, realizing before she even got the chance to right herself that she wasn't the only one who'd fallen in. She flailed until she was upright and reared her head out of the water with a gasp- only to inhale a mouthful of buzzing insects, which instantly triggered her gag reflex, causing her to vomit up a belly full of water and still-wriggling insects while the stranger laughed her ass off in the mud. 

Fortunately for Willow, Lilia was too disgusted with herself to anger, and woefully plucked herself out of the water, knowing now that it was a combination of water, dust, larvae and wolf puke. She swallowed hard, still shaken. "Thith ith the abtholute....grothetht day....ever!"

The laughter didn't last very long. Once the stranger was settled and could hear him, Willow tampered down the feeling and swallowed any further expression; he didn't like the sound of his own laugh, the same way he didn't like the sound of his howling voice, and besides that he wasn't eager to bother his new-found friend beyond whatever she felt right now.
Her commentary earned a small snort and a nod from him, then he coughed and spat again. A suggestion bubbled to the forefront of his mind: I think I'd prefer shade to water right now. Even though the sun might dry them both off, Willow wanted to get the hell away from these pools before one of them drowned (in them, or in the bugs).
Do you know the area? Maybe there's somewhere we could go to hide — somewhere dry, 'cause fuck this place.

She continued to agonize about her own misery, noting with a slight curl to her lip when the stranger spat. Very un-ladylike, she thought, but she supposed she'd just puked in front of a complete stranger so neither of them were afforded much dignity in this situation. The suggestion to go elsewhere was met with a nod, and a gesture of her muzzle. "Patht the treeline, at the edge of the mowaine," She said, standing, and shaking some of the dripping, dusty water from her pelt. "Might be leth bugth there," She said with a hopeless shrug, and began to trudge off in that direction, moving more carefully now that she'd learned a lesson in haste. "But yah- fuck thith plathe," She agreed emphatically.

It was good one of them had a plan.
Okay, I'll follow your lead. Willow's head bobbed slightly as he said this, and he prepared to be led away from the rocky earth - and these incessant bugs - with the idling hope that he wasn't being lead to slaughter, or something. Not that he believed this girl would do something like that (it was one of those spontaneous dark thoughts that occasionally crowded his mind); and as soon as he imagined it, it was gone.
So long as they got away from these weird little pools, he was happy.

She kept her ears flattened so the bugs wouldn't bother her so much, and spared only the occasional glance over her shoulder to check and see that Willow was still following her. The ridgeline where the evergreens grew came closer and closer, and once they were past the patch of odd puddles, she opened up her gait a bit more to cover some ground. At a lope, the flies would bother them less, and perhaps they'd simply be left behind, and return to the puddles to wait for the next set of unknowing victims to wander by. 

Once they reached the treeline she shook out her coat, grimacing slightly at the lingering thought of having little bugs in her pelt. The last fall into the puddle had fortunately cleaned some of the muck out of her pelt, and it began to dry now without clumping together. "Well that wath fucked," She breathed. She looked at Willow then, finally free of the distraction enough to study the wolf's features, taking note of the freckles across the bridge of their nose. "I'm gonna head back home thoon, but...It wath nithe meetin' ya!" She said, before she abandoned the fly-ridden area completely and returned to the Rise.