By-tor looked around the courtyard she had been put into with scorn. She was used to Dark woods back home, their cruel monstrous terrain and the mankete turned foul by twisted magic that would see her as no more than a meal on a platter. Here it was the opposite. It seemed as if she had been caught in between the nobility and common mercenary. She was almost disgusted to be seen within their ranks. They knew nothing of the primal warfare that she believed made a warrior a real warrior. With her dirtied body, unwashed and clotted with mud from the forest and her hair in a permanent behead, she was a stark contrast to her rival units. 

A large drop of saliva dripped on her, the acidic feel of it itching her skin, the smell of rotting deer and corpses exposed to her exactly who it was. She looked up to see her wyvern, who had allowed his maw to expose itself, his stomach churning in the hunger that growled for some of the nearby people to be feed into it. This stopped when she pulled hard on her rein, choking him enough to get him to behave once more. 

"These here are our freinds, 'ya here laddie? Now quit'yer droolin' or I'm gonna have'ta change the bargain' over me eye!" She hollered at him, her stiff, gruff voice sounding like she was barely a woman, no feminine charm to it. After this, she spat on the ground, the spit filled with a concoction of contaminants. 
"We ain't doin' anything like feedin'ya some pansy Lil' milk drinkers anyway, you'd be soffer' then ye are now" She chuckled in continuation, elbowing the beast in the gut. She awaited further instruction, deciding against talking. Talk was cheap. The only ones worth wasting the breath to her were the ones who could keep up with her.