Duck Lake batrachophobia

Skirting the meadow had been a great idea; even as he kept the trees of the glade to his right, the pollen still found ways to ruin his day. Besides the constant sneezing, the feeling that his pelt was filled with itchy, crawly, ants was by far the most miserable symptom.

The lakewater offered some relief. Lapping at the cool liquid brought some comfort to his throat, but it wasn't until he inched deeper and deeper - until he was fully submerged, that the wolf finally felt complete relaxation. Sighing deeply, he ducked his head beneath the surface, his breath emerging in bubbles that rose and glistened in the spring sun. When he rose, water flowed in rivulets down his stormcloud pelt - along with a tiny frog that had hitched a ride.

Giving the curious amphibian a befuddled expression, he quickly snapped it up in one bite before parting his jaws in a satisfied yawn.

maybe a @Ancelin ?

big guy. older than him. hunting away from the territory. 
the indigo eyes noted all this in a flicker. ancelin was out hunting as well, searching for blood that would feed his instinct to provide.
he and ameline still waited to see, but there was no way not, right? each day brought his awareness more attuned toward her, searching for any sign of new symptom or show that might indicate they would be parents.
he watched the stranger chew the frog, tail flicking, then dipped his muzzle to drink deeply, wading into the lake as he fully ignored the other, by all appearances.

A stranger approached - an odd looking fellow, his pelt a piebald mismatch of khaki and white. If he moved any closer, Vilhelm might have been able to detect the rich scent of brown-hunter on his pelt, but for now he was content to mind the distance.

"OIIII!!" his shout rang out across the lake as he caught the guy staring. Perhaps a little loud for a greeting, but the ironclad wasn't known for being the most subtle. "You like frog? Tastes like - ah - chicken!"

"frog tastes like frog," ancelin countered, good-naturedly as his approach came with a swinging tail. rude as he might be, the young hunter had come to welcome moments of interaction with others.
the frog was gone. he eyed the water, then snapped the purple stare back to the man. "if you want chicken, we could just go hunt one in the meadow," the bearwolf grinned.

He made a good point, though Vilhelm wholeheartedly disagreed. Nevertheless, his tail beat a steady slap slap slap into the lake as the stranger drew closer. At the suggestion to hunt in the meadow, the wolf shook his head violently, sending droplets arcing in every direction.

"Nej, flowers ah - not good. Make skin feel like many ants," a grimace, followed by a grin. That was the whole point of coming to the lake! Though, he supposed, his new friend wouldn't have known that.

A flick of his tail as his gaze scanned the surface. Frogspawn lay nestled amongst the pondweeds and, soon, more tiny frogs emerged from hiding. "Come, come!" he ushered quietly, "they are making babies!"

the heavy accent was kinda charming; it reminded ancelin of drusk, just a bit. he wondered where the big man had gone, but did not linger on it long. "you don't like flowers? do all of them make you feel like that?" ancelin asked, intrigued by this frog-making more than he would let on.
soon he stooped beside the stranger, eyes riveted with disgust.
"gross!"