Entry for WriterAwards.

Irisa sipped the mug of warm ale, sighing as the refreshing liquid burned away the sting at the back of her mouth. The tavern was filled with raucous noise and loud music. A few tables away three Wulfen'krrd stood arguing, their pointed ears swiveling and their tails tucked. The harsh, growling sounds of their language threatened to drown out the minstrel's tunes. Irisa sighed. This tavern hadn't been her first choice, not at all. With the wars in the nearby lands dying out her services were almost useless. Irisa was a spy, and a warrior, one of the only female fighters in the lands. For the past four years she had been working at the western border, trying to hold back the Helvatian raid parties. She clenched her mug tighter just thinking about them. Strong, proud, fearless... the Helvatians were everything that humans were not. Except one; they had no magic. It's true that the magic lines in the humans were low in this modern age, most barely possessed the ability. But Irisa did. It was one of her most valuable assets and had served her well in many a battle. 

As a female, Irisa needed all the tricks she could play. Many a man had refused her a position in their strike force on account of her sex, and it had taken more than one attempt to wrangle acceptance out of them before the pushy males began to realize that she was more than their equal. It was best for them to understand  that holding her back simply lent her more determination to kill them the next time Irisa switched sides. Her position in war was generally determined by which army gave her the most freedom, and which kept her purse most filled with coin. Now, however, the wars had begun to be less bloody, and a tentative peace had fallen over both kingdoms. However lovely the peace was for the border kingdoms, it left Irisa out of a job. She smirked. The wars would begin again, or she would start one. The tavern life was not one for her. 

Her attention turned back to the room as she cast her gaze around it. Wulfs and humans alike shared the cramped space, each generally keeping to groups of their own race. It amused Irisa to see how the humans would attempt to ignore the wolf-people, letting their eyes slide away before jumping in fright when the shaggy fur of one accidentally brushed past their skin. The Wulfen'krrd, on the other hand, regarded the humans with distaste, often baring their fangs when one chanced to look upon them. Despite the fact that both had been peaceful during the Helvatian war, relations between the two species seemed as tense as ever. 

"Grrrawrrd Rrrack M'krrad", one of the Wulfen'krrd spat, its ears shoved forward as it glared at one of its companions. Irisia winced and rose, tossing a few coins onto the bar. This was bound to get messy. Wulfen'krrd possed a very strong pack instinct, and none ever backed down from a fight. Irisa pulled the hood of her cloak down so that in concealed more of her face before walking towards the door. Behind her she heard the Wulfen'krrd growl as a table was turned over. The door swung shut behind her, muting the clamorous sounds of the tavern and the snarls of the arguing Wulfs. Two more steps and she was into the night, immersing herself in the darkness.

"Koordd," Irisa whispered into the humid air, and a black horse trotted towards her. Lightning had been trained by the Zlakra, and she only responded to commands given in their language. It was handy, though, as Irisa could call for the mare even when bound. Irisa slipped her hands around the reins and swung herself onto the horse's back. "Lokrrahh," Irisa called softly and Lightning started out onto the lonely night road, the sounds of the horse's hoofsteps uncomfortably loud amidst the perfect silence. 

***

"No room?" Irisa asked incredulously. Irritation spiked her like an itch. She wished to summon her magic and blast this wrench into dust.

"I'm sorry m'lady." The innkeeper said nervously. "We're all filled up."

Irisa let out a deep sigh. "That's alright," she said wearily. It seemed as though there was no room in the entire town. Irisa glanced at the purple and black banners that were strewn over the buildings, heralding the arrival of Lord Travan. She winced as she saw them. Lord Travan was popular with the people, but Irisa knew better; she had been on his list of go-to servants for years. Perhaps it's his fault that I cannot find a room tonight, she thought bitterly.

Lightning's hooves thudded against the cobblestone road, and the steady rhythm made Irisa drowsy. She refused to fall asleep though, keeping all of her senses alert. The road was abandoned, but she had been ambushed by far too many Gavrond to throw her caution away. The various Gavrondii clans sometimes camped out on the road, hassling travellers for money. Irisa doubted that there would be any this far away from shelter, but didn't want to risk it.

Finally, the farmhouses dissolved into forest, and Irisa pulled Lightning to the side of the road. "Flagrah," she said to the mare. Lightning whinnied and walked to a patch of grass, tearing the leaves from the earth.

Irisa pulled her bedroll from the saddle bag and spread it over the ground, using a pack as her pillow. She whispered a few words under her breath, erecting a weak shield around the camp. It would prevent strangers from approaching without her knowledge. Lastly, Irisa slipped a knife beneath the blankets and fell into a deep sleep.

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Words:

Wulfish

Note: R's in Wulfish are either growled or snarled.

Grrrawrrd Rrrack M'krrad- I challenge you

Zlakra

Koorrdd- Come

Lokrrah- Go

Flagrah- Leave