Silver Moraine I'll learn the names of all the termites that eat my wooden teeth.

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.