Dragoncrest Cliffs being around angry people relaxes me because i know where i stand.

The scent trail began to grow stronger, leaving Artaax's mind little room to continue to consider his embarassment over being surprised by Helix. He quickened his pace for about a mile or so before the scent was strong enough to make him slow to a pace that was more condusive for sneaking up on unsuspecting prey. 
He took care to keep his steps silent as he employed all of his senses to tell him where exactly he would find the coyote, even though he had a good idea already. He trusted his gut in this and moved accordingly, keeping himself upwind of where he suspected the coyote had stopped. He stopped only when his final sense caught hold of the creature and he had it at long last in his sights.

Artaax crouched low to keep himself from sight as he watched his psuedo-cousin tear at the bones of some long dead deer. There was barely any meat left on it, and though the feisripa had zero claim to the carcass, he still felt a spasm of anger that the coyote would dare touch even a single mouthful of food so near to Drageda's territory. Even the barest of scraps were too good for the trespassing scavenger. It needed to die.

The white lion glanced to the side, searching for Helix. He didn't need her help, like, at all, but he'd rather they coordinated an attack together than he go at it solo and she stupidly get in his way. He assumed she wasn't smart enough to let him at it alone like she ought to. So, he gave her the slightest dip of his muzzle - an invitation to follow his lead.