Redhawk Caldera Don't tell me I'm fine

The downward momentum gave Nightjar some speed, but it was guaranteed to die out when they reached the fast-approaching level ground. For now, though, he would enjoy the benefit of going downhill. His broad paws slapped the earth with loud thuds as he barreled onward, alerting the coyote to his presence. Its tapered head whipped up and around and there was no doubt it spotted both wolves: its body tightened visibly. Nightjar didn't care that it saw them, though. That was the whole point. 

His jaws were already yawning wide long before he could ever make contact with the lesser canine. The coyote wasn't about to stick around for a taste of those teeth, though. Almost as soon as it spotted them, it was scampering away well out of his range. Wildfire was arcing out to intercept it, presumably, and Nightjar just kept on lumbering. Whether they caught it or not, their charge served a singular purpose. Their aim was to get rid of it, one way or another, and he wouldn't stop until it was heading for the hills or hung limp in one of their mouths.