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

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.