Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
He really was an utter fool, but as she was rolling around right next to him, the same could be said of her.
It was a peaceful, tranquil time.
She knew well just how precious such a thing was.
So she would have to control it, cherish it, and enjoy it to the best of her abilities.
There was one thing that caused her concern.
She wriggled back underneath the blankets, burying her head in the pillow as she'd seen humans do.
Her poor companion had lived such a starved life that if she showed him just a bit of affection, he might become totally useless—and if she overdid it, he would become accustomed to it and it would lose its efficacy.
For both beast and human, enough repetition of something would always lead to boredom.
Which meant she would have to think of another way.
And as she did so, she immediately hit upon it.
If he got tired of sweetness, she need only add some salt.
If her smile failed to hook him, all she had to do was summon some tears.
It was so simple.
And it would certainly work on a simple sheep.
"...Hmm?"
Something nagged at her as she thought about this. For a moment she wondered what it could be, and she soon found the cause. It was the previous night's dinner when she collapsed.
They were talking about sheep—about how sheep would lick anything that tasted salty. She remembered that, and a strange thought occurred to her.
She imagined salty tears on her face, her companion persistently licking them up.
She would surely first giggle madly, though it would no doubt become tiresome very quickly. It was easy to imagine her companion not knowing when to stop—so easy to imagine, in fact, that it was depressing.
Yes, she would have to keep a tight hold on his reins to keep him doing what she wanted.
Thinking of how many things there were to worry about, she rolled over in bed.
Her head was still buried in the pillow, and she lay curled up on her side, chuckling.
It had been a very long time since she'd had such fun.
She wasn't sure exactly what was fun about the situation. There were so many amusements that it was impossible to choose just one.
But if pressed for an answer, it was that her foolish companion could not, for all his foolishness, be handled by ordinary means.
There was something of the delight of the hunt in this, somehow, that set her wolf heart aflame.
Having taken the dishes downstairs, her companion was true to his word, and she heard his footsteps approach.
Her heart thudded quietly.
Her tail twisted and her ears twitched.
Her nose itched, and she rubbed it into the pillow.
Ah, this ineffable delight of the hunt!
The footsteps stopped in front of the door.
She couldn't help but smile as she looked back toward it.
And then, as it opened, standing there was—
"Holo," her companion said, smiling.
The shepherdess beside him.
"Miss Norah's come to visit you."
No, indeed he could not be dealt with by normal means at all.
The shepherdess smiled a smile as fresh and clear as an early summer field, and it wasn't the wisewolf's centuries of experience that allowed her to smile back.
She smiled out of actual pleasure.
Holding the reins of her enormous fool of a companion was so difficult a task, she could only laugh at it.
"How are you feeling?" asked Norah the shepherdess.
"'Tis nothing, just a bit of fatigue."
If she hadn't answered the question this way, how else could she have possibly answered it?
Even with a wisewolf's clever mind, she had no idea.
Her companion watched the pleasant exchange with a proud, self-satisfied smile.
It wasn't that she wasn't exhausted exactly.
Far from it—she felt like her fever was about to rise back up.
"I've been a bit starved for company, though. You see, there was something I've been wanting to ask you," she said.
"Huh? Something to ask...me?" The shepherdess was a clever girl but was ever modest; she could see why her companion would fall for that. "If it's something I can answer, then...please do."
She then smiled.

Output:
"What is the best way to lead sheep?"
The shepherdess's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected question, but her usual smile soon returned.
Next to her, her cheeky sheepdog stood watchfully, his guard up as usual.
The pale, slender shepherdess spoke with a gentle smile. "You need a generous heart."
The moment after she heard the answer, she felt like the wind blew.
This girl was utterly genuine.
She was a real shepherdess.
To raise sheep, one needed a generous heart.
She glanced at her companion and thought to herself that the shepherdess was exactly right.
Norah saw the look and made a brief expression of realization.
A smart person needed only a moment to notice such things.
"'Tis because sheep always think themselves so clever."
Norah returned her gaze to her and smiled, a bit confused but pleased nonetheless.
She had the feeling she would get along with this girl just fine.
But as her companion watched, not knowing that they were talking about him, she wasn't confident about her ability to hold his reins.
Only God knew if she'd be able to.
She gave him a resentful look, which startled him.
You sheep, you sheep, you innocent little sheep, she thought to herself.
And yet, that silly way of his—yes.
"You're such a fool," she murmured.
She did so love her sheep.
End.
Hello again. This is Hasekura.
I thought it hadn't been too long since last time, but as I wrote this afterword and thought about it, it's been two months. It used to be that even a week seemed like an eternity, but time passes so fast now.
That's probably because I sleep about sixteen hours a day. Lately I have difficulty telling the difference between dreams and reality. Temporally speaking, I spend more time asleep. Thus two months feels to me like but one, I imagine.
Now then, this volume is a bit different than the previous long-form books.
It includes a novella and a short story that were featured on the Dengeki website, along with a new short story I wrote.
The novella is a tale from Holo's past, and the short stories are interludes from the main arc of the books.
In the novella we see Holo's big-sisterly side, and the shorter pieces feature her gluttony. Where did Lawrence go off to? One can't help but feel bad for him.
But what I'd most like to talk about here is the new piece.
It's the first one written from Holo's perspective.
At first I was really very worried about whether or not I would be able to write from her perspective at all, but when I gave it a try, it was actually a lot of fun—so much so that when I go back and reread it, I can tell that I was really enjoying writing it. So I truly hope you all enjoy it as much as I did.
Speaking of which—this is a total subject change—recently I took a ride in a certain author's 420-horsepower car.
420 horsepower. It's like, where in Japan are you going to go with that much power? It was more like a roller coaster than a car. When you accelerate, all your blood drains to your lower body, and when you slow down, you can feel it come rushing back.
It looked supercool, too, and since I don't know cars, it was a really memorable experience.
However, I'm sorry to say that while the car was amazing, the destination of the four shabby-from-all-nighters authors that piled into it was not a night view of some beautiful bay-side road, but rather a hot springs where we could relax our cramped shoulders.
And although we're all getting up in age, we were really excited to put on our yukata, and once somebody said, "Hey, let's go sliding!" we were soon slip-sliding all over the wooden floors. This is all the more amazing since none of us were drunk. For the sake of my own pride, I should say that I did not participate in such unbecoming games. It's true, I swear.
Later, we all abused each others' terrible physical condition, then arm wrestled, had push-up contests, and then took purikura photos. It was like being back in junior high.
To get home, of course, we rode in the 420-horsepower supercar.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"What is the best way to lead sheep?"
The shepherdess's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected question, but her usual smile soon returned.
Next to her, her cheeky sheepdog stood watchfully, his guard up as usual.
The pale, slender shepherdess spoke with a gentle smile. "You need a generous heart."
The moment after she heard the answer, she felt like the wind blew.
This girl was utterly genuine.
She was a real shepherdess.
To raise sheep, one needed a generous heart.
She glanced at her companion and thought to herself that the shepherdess was exactly right.
Norah saw the look and made a brief expression of realization.
A smart person needed only a moment to notice such things.
"'Tis because sheep always think themselves so clever."
Norah returned her gaze to her and smiled, a bit confused but pleased nonetheless.
She had the feeling she would get along with this girl just fine.
But as her companion watched, not knowing that they were talking about him, she wasn't confident about her ability to hold his reins.
Only God knew if she'd be able to.
She gave him a resentful look, which startled him.
You sheep, you sheep, you innocent little sheep, she thought to herself.
And yet, that silly way of his—yes.
"You're such a fool," she murmured.
She did so love her sheep.
End.
Hello again. This is Hasekura.
I thought it hadn't been too long since last time, but as I wrote this afterword and thought about it, it's been two months. It used to be that even a week seemed like an eternity, but time passes so fast now.
That's probably because I sleep about sixteen hours a day. Lately I have difficulty telling the difference between dreams and reality. Temporally speaking, I spend more time asleep. Thus two months feels to me like but one, I imagine.
Now then, this volume is a bit different than the previous long-form books.
It includes a novella and a short story that were featured on the Dengeki website, along with a new short story I wrote.
The novella is a tale from Holo's past, and the short stories are interludes from the main arc of the books.
In the novella we see Holo's big-sisterly side, and the shorter pieces feature her gluttony. Where did Lawrence go off to? One can't help but feel bad for him.
But what I'd most like to talk about here is the new piece.
It's the first one written from Holo's perspective.
At first I was really very worried about whether or not I would be able to write from her perspective at all, but when I gave it a try, it was actually a lot of fun—so much so that when I go back and reread it, I can tell that I was really enjoying writing it. So I truly hope you all enjoy it as much as I did.
Speaking of which—this is a total subject change—recently I took a ride in a certain author's 420-horsepower car.
420 horsepower. It's like, where in Japan are you going to go with that much power? It was more like a roller coaster than a car. When you accelerate, all your blood drains to your lower body, and when you slow down, you can feel it come rushing back.
It looked supercool, too, and since I don't know cars, it was a really memorable experience.
However, I'm sorry to say that while the car was amazing, the destination of the four shabby-from-all-nighters authors that piled into it was not a night view of some beautiful bay-side road, but rather a hot springs where we could relax our cramped shoulders.
And although we're all getting up in age, we were really excited to put on our yukata, and once somebody said, "Hey, let's go sliding!" we were soon slip-sliding all over the wooden floors. This is all the more amazing since none of us were drunk. For the sake of my own pride, I should say that I did not participate in such unbecoming games. It's true, I swear.
Later, we all abused each others' terrible physical condition, then arm wrestled, had push-up contests, and then took purikura photos. It was like being back in junior high.
To get home, of course, we rode in the 420-horsepower supercar.

Output:
And somehow after writing all that, I've filled up the page.
The next volume will return to the main story.
I'd like to think I can give Lawrence a chance to be a little cooler, but who knows.
Until we meet again.
Isuna Hasekura
Isuna Hasekura
Born December 27, 1982, winner of the twelfth Dengeki Novel Prize Silver Medal. He spends his time musing that one can tell the difference between a science-minded person and a literary-minded person by whether or not they become excited by the prospect of benzene ring diagrams.
Works from Dengeki Bunko:
Spice and Wolf
Spice and Wolf II
Spice and Wolf III
Spice and Wolf IV
Spice and Wolf V
Spice and Wolf VI
Illustrations: Jyuu Ayakura
Born 1981. Birthplace: Kyoto. Blood type: AB. Currently living a free, Spartan life in Tokyo. Recently he's been listening to the soundtrack from the Spice and Wolf anime. Such happiness. Just watching it makes him want to head out on a journey, which is admittedly a bit dangerous...
***
The moon hid behind clouds, and darkness covered the area.
An occasional cold wind blew, gently ruffling her hair.
Contained in a lamp made from bent wire, a tallow flame flickered uncertainly.
It was cold, bitterly cold.
The sound of ice crushing under weight accompanied the progress of the fully loaded wagon.
No one opened their mouths. The entire party remained silent as they advanced.
Beside the wagon bed, the unsteady lamplight flickered, illuminating the horse's thick neck and the back of the horseman who walked ahead, holding the reins.
It was like a procession of corpses.
There are many such stories.
But the difference here was that in the line there was one who stood stock-still.
The figure held no lamp, but rather a staff, perhaps to beat either the horse—or its master.
That single person stopped and looked.
And in the deathly, expressionless procession, only one face conveyed surprise.
"Good evening."
The abrupt words echoed loudly, perhaps because of the frigid air.
Had one crouched down and scooped up a handful of the gravel underfoot, it would have been indistinguishable from the ice itself.
The individual to whom the greeting was directed was a grizzled veteran of a merchant, one who would meet even the most unexpected circumstance with calm.
And yet it took even her some time to grasp the situation.
"A swift horse, eh?" she asked, in such a way that made it clear he knew it was not the case.
Since no merchant ever shows his entire hand, he did not deign to answer the question.
She shook her head there in the shadows.
The wind blew.
In the darkness, the caravan of wagons quietly proceeded beneath the light cast by the torches affixed to the city wall's entrance, as if heading for the gallows.
In truth, she would've liked to use her advantage to its maximum effect.
But reality is smaller and sadder than a play. It often happens that one has no strength remaining when one needs it most.
It was not as if she had reached this place by some magic after all.
"Let us talk in a warm inn, shall we?" She spoke in place of the others, who were too exhausted to open their mouths.
"Miss Eve."
Her counterpart was a grizzled merchant.
To her practical proposal, he gave an equally practical reply.
***
"Mmph...mmn..."
She moved her mouth, chewing for a moment, swallowing quickly, then opening it again.
When the spoon delivered her another bite of porridge, she quickly bit down.
Occasionally she would chew on the spoon like a teething puppy, despite her age.
This "puppy" had eaten two wooden bowls of the bread crust–thickened porridge, at which point she finally seemed sated. She licked her lips clean, then sighed. As she reclined on her side atop two large pillows grandly stuffed with wool, there was something about her that seemed distinctly like a princess at rest.
But sadly, her physique was far too thin at the moment for her to be called regal.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
And somehow after writing all that, I've filled up the page.
The next volume will return to the main story.
I'd like to think I can give Lawrence a chance to be a little cooler, but who knows.
Until we meet again.
Isuna Hasekura
Isuna Hasekura
Born December 27, 1982, winner of the twelfth Dengeki Novel Prize Silver Medal. He spends his time musing that one can tell the difference between a science-minded person and a literary-minded person by whether or not they become excited by the prospect of benzene ring diagrams.
Works from Dengeki Bunko:
Spice and Wolf
Spice and Wolf II
Spice and Wolf III
Spice and Wolf IV
Spice and Wolf V
Spice and Wolf VI
Illustrations: Jyuu Ayakura
Born 1981. Birthplace: Kyoto. Blood type: AB. Currently living a free, Spartan life in Tokyo. Recently he's been listening to the soundtrack from the Spice and Wolf anime. Such happiness. Just watching it makes him want to head out on a journey, which is admittedly a bit dangerous...
***
The moon hid behind clouds, and darkness covered the area.
An occasional cold wind blew, gently ruffling her hair.
Contained in a lamp made from bent wire, a tallow flame flickered uncertainly.
It was cold, bitterly cold.
The sound of ice crushing under weight accompanied the progress of the fully loaded wagon.
No one opened their mouths. The entire party remained silent as they advanced.
Beside the wagon bed, the unsteady lamplight flickered, illuminating the horse's thick neck and the back of the horseman who walked ahead, holding the reins.
It was like a procession of corpses.
There are many such stories.
But the difference here was that in the line there was one who stood stock-still.
The figure held no lamp, but rather a staff, perhaps to beat either the horse—or its master.
That single person stopped and looked.
And in the deathly, expressionless procession, only one face conveyed surprise.
"Good evening."
The abrupt words echoed loudly, perhaps because of the frigid air.
Had one crouched down and scooped up a handful of the gravel underfoot, it would have been indistinguishable from the ice itself.
The individual to whom the greeting was directed was a grizzled veteran of a merchant, one who would meet even the most unexpected circumstance with calm.
And yet it took even her some time to grasp the situation.
"A swift horse, eh?" she asked, in such a way that made it clear he knew it was not the case.
Since no merchant ever shows his entire hand, he did not deign to answer the question.
She shook her head there in the shadows.
The wind blew.
In the darkness, the caravan of wagons quietly proceeded beneath the light cast by the torches affixed to the city wall's entrance, as if heading for the gallows.
In truth, she would've liked to use her advantage to its maximum effect.
But reality is smaller and sadder than a play. It often happens that one has no strength remaining when one needs it most.
It was not as if she had reached this place by some magic after all.
"Let us talk in a warm inn, shall we?" She spoke in place of the others, who were too exhausted to open their mouths.
"Miss Eve."
Her counterpart was a grizzled merchant.
To her practical proposal, he gave an equally practical reply.
***
"Mmph...mmn..."
She moved her mouth, chewing for a moment, swallowing quickly, then opening it again.
When the spoon delivered her another bite of porridge, she quickly bit down.
Occasionally she would chew on the spoon like a teething puppy, despite her age.
This "puppy" had eaten two wooden bowls of the bread crust–thickened porridge, at which point she finally seemed sated. She licked her lips clean, then sighed. As she reclined on her side atop two large pillows grandly stuffed with wool, there was something about her that seemed distinctly like a princess at rest.
But sadly, her physique was far too thin at the moment for her to be called regal.

Output:
No, he revised his opinion—what made her look particularly shabby today was that in a rare occurrence, her hair was sleep mussed and tangled.
And also perhaps because the swelling in her face made her appear extremely displeased.
The shabby princess's name was Holo.
And, of course, Holo was not a princess, although there was every possibility she had once been called a queen, perhaps somewhere in the far north.
Atop Holo's head sprouted a pair of proud, pointed wolf ears, and from her waist grew a majestic puff of a tail.
Though she currently appeared to be a teenage girl, her true form was that of an enormous wolf, large enough to eat a full-grown man in a single bite. She called herself a wisewolf and had lived for centuries among the wheat, guaranteeing a good harvest.
Yet despite her lineage, which was as proud as any dynasty of kings, when he saw her like this, he could understand why the villagers who had prayed to her for a good harvest had finally ceased to rely on her.
It was true, he had to admit, that her vaunted dignity and authority vanished once she had him feed her, her hair still bed mussed.
That said, the idea that she had opened her heart to him enough that she didn't mind looking unsightly in his presence held a certain appeal.
Lawrence could only regard it as a telling action on her part.
After all, while this was the second time she had indulged in having him feed her, he still had no memory of her ever thanking him.
This time around, she acted as if the act was the most natural thing in the world, and once she finished eating, she belched loudly, then twitched her ears. Her gaze was distant. Perhaps she was remembering something.
A moment later, her brow furrowed in displeasure.
"Who would ever conceive of a wisewolf complaining of muscle pain?" she asked as he tidied the dishes, her eyes returning to the here and now. "For me to be so frail, you must think me...ngh...," said Holo, trying to lean her head forward and failing.
Throughout the previous day, Holo had sprinted across the wilderness carrying Lawrence on her back with one other, the wandering boy student, Col.
Perhaps she was happy at being able to run her heart out in the sunlight, but when they'd arrived at the inn, she was so exhausted she couldn't climb the stairs to their room—and yet up until she fell asleep, her eyes had glittered with a strange excitement.
She had scarcely rested while running, waiting for Lawrence and Col—who merely clung to her back—to cry out for a break.
Holo, in her endless desire to run, had seemed less like a prudent, careful wolf and more like a dog released onto a field. Lawrence had meant to be sarcastic about it, but when he praised her fleetness of foot, her faced swelled with a pride unlike any she had ever shown before.
In her huge wolf form, she was covered in coarse hair that seemed composed of silver wire, and when she sat proudly, he felt a presence from her that was truly worthy of the label "god."
But when she was so genuinely pleased at his sarcastic praise, he couldn't help but let slip a rueful grin.
Holo had been worshipped for centuries as a harvest god, so she probably couldn't help how much she enjoyed expressing herself with childlike openness—and unless Lawrence interpreted her actions in this favorable light, it would have been easy to forget entirely that she was in fact a wisewolf.
But, of course, he knew from their travels thus far that this was simply her true disposition.
So Lawrence praised when he could.
If he'd said any more, her busy tail might have wagged itself right off.
Thanks to her efforts, Holo had appeared so poorly this morning that it had been difficult to look at her, and her constitution was so ravaged that Lawrence could practically hear it. He recalled a truly serious illness.
When it came out that she was merely sore, he was so relieved that he wanted to yell at her for having made him think otherwise.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
No, he revised his opinion—what made her look particularly shabby today was that in a rare occurrence, her hair was sleep mussed and tangled.
And also perhaps because the swelling in her face made her appear extremely displeased.
The shabby princess's name was Holo.
And, of course, Holo was not a princess, although there was every possibility she had once been called a queen, perhaps somewhere in the far north.
Atop Holo's head sprouted a pair of proud, pointed wolf ears, and from her waist grew a majestic puff of a tail.
Though she currently appeared to be a teenage girl, her true form was that of an enormous wolf, large enough to eat a full-grown man in a single bite. She called herself a wisewolf and had lived for centuries among the wheat, guaranteeing a good harvest.
Yet despite her lineage, which was as proud as any dynasty of kings, when he saw her like this, he could understand why the villagers who had prayed to her for a good harvest had finally ceased to rely on her.
It was true, he had to admit, that her vaunted dignity and authority vanished once she had him feed her, her hair still bed mussed.
That said, the idea that she had opened her heart to him enough that she didn't mind looking unsightly in his presence held a certain appeal.
Lawrence could only regard it as a telling action on her part.
After all, while this was the second time she had indulged in having him feed her, he still had no memory of her ever thanking him.
This time around, she acted as if the act was the most natural thing in the world, and once she finished eating, she belched loudly, then twitched her ears. Her gaze was distant. Perhaps she was remembering something.
A moment later, her brow furrowed in displeasure.
"Who would ever conceive of a wisewolf complaining of muscle pain?" she asked as he tidied the dishes, her eyes returning to the here and now. "For me to be so frail, you must think me...ngh...," said Holo, trying to lean her head forward and failing.
Throughout the previous day, Holo had sprinted across the wilderness carrying Lawrence on her back with one other, the wandering boy student, Col.
Perhaps she was happy at being able to run her heart out in the sunlight, but when they'd arrived at the inn, she was so exhausted she couldn't climb the stairs to their room—and yet up until she fell asleep, her eyes had glittered with a strange excitement.
She had scarcely rested while running, waiting for Lawrence and Col—who merely clung to her back—to cry out for a break.
Holo, in her endless desire to run, had seemed less like a prudent, careful wolf and more like a dog released onto a field. Lawrence had meant to be sarcastic about it, but when he praised her fleetness of foot, her faced swelled with a pride unlike any she had ever shown before.
In her huge wolf form, she was covered in coarse hair that seemed composed of silver wire, and when she sat proudly, he felt a presence from her that was truly worthy of the label "god."
But when she was so genuinely pleased at his sarcastic praise, he couldn't help but let slip a rueful grin.
Holo had been worshipped for centuries as a harvest god, so she probably couldn't help how much she enjoyed expressing herself with childlike openness—and unless Lawrence interpreted her actions in this favorable light, it would have been easy to forget entirely that she was in fact a wisewolf.
But, of course, he knew from their travels thus far that this was simply her true disposition.
So Lawrence praised when he could.
If he'd said any more, her busy tail might have wagged itself right off.
Thanks to her efforts, Holo had appeared so poorly this morning that it had been difficult to look at her, and her constitution was so ravaged that Lawrence could practically hear it. He recalled a truly serious illness.
When it came out that she was merely sore, he was so relieved that he wanted to yell at her for having made him think otherwise.

Output:
What distinguished her from a sick person was her entirely healthy appetite.
"Ah, well, I suppose it's what comes of running so far while carrying two people on your back."
"Aye, 'tis true I ran a bit too hard."
The only parts of her body she could properly move were her ears and tail.
But despite her terrible condition, she did not appear particularly regretful.
Even if she had come to greatly enjoy this girl's form, perhaps she simply felt her true wolf form fit her better.
When he thought about it like that, perhaps one of the sources of her displeasure during their journeys thus far was simple frustration at being unable to freely travel in her true form.
"Still," she said as Lawrence considered it. She yawned slightly before continuing, "'Tis shameful to be in such pain that I cannot get out of bed. 'Twould have been less so if those who rode on my back were also unable to rise in the morning."
She could not move her body, but her mouth worked quite well.
Holo smiled maliciously, but her attitude was completely artificial and thus hard to take seriously.
If Col had been there, he probably would have been at least moderately flustered, but fortunately he was out.
"If you're so much wiser and farseeing such that I should just leave everything to you, then perhaps I should just go ahead and follow your lead. Except I trust you haven't forgotten last night, have you?" asked Lawrence, and for once Holo did not refute him.
Quite the contrary—she bit her lip in frustration and turned away.
She seemed to remember the previous night's failure all too well.
"Honestly. Forget following your lead—I've got to keep a tighter grip on your reins. Just who did you say was whose driver again?"
It seemed like a good opportunity to make Holo consider the consequences of her actions, Lawrence thought as he pressed her.
The previous day, Holo's speed had compelled them to disembark from the boat heading down the Roam River, and they arrived in the port town of Kerube in half a day. Had they stayed on the boat, the same distance would have taken two full days.
Such speed was swifter than any horse they could have hired.
There was, in fact, a reason they had traveled so quickly.
They were pursuing stories of the bones of a great wolf found in a village in the mountainous Roef region. They had no proof, but it seemed likely they came from a wisewolf not unlike Holo, and there was the possibility that the Church authorities would attempt to desecrate the remains in order to display their own might.
That was not something Holo could abide.
Lawrence was not so arbitrary as to change his initial plan and head down the river to chase that story for that reason alone—but he was likewise not honest enough to say aloud the true reason. For his part, Lawrence was using the excuse that he wanted them to end their travels with a smile, but if he had asked Holo, there was no doubt that she would have prepared a different excuse.
In the process of gathering information regarding the wolf bones, they had discovered that among those pursuing the relics were Church authorities in the Roam River region.
And that was why they had come to the port town of Kerube—to speak with Eve, who undoubtedly knew the Roam River region front to back.
Eve, once a noblewoman and now a ruined merchant, had once conspired with the Church in Lenos, so there was no doubt her information network was deep. Also, there had been the fur incident in Lenos, where she had sunk a boat in the river simply to block it as part of her fur-export scheme, which gave Lawrence ample ingredients with which to question her.
Thus, Lawrence, Col, and Holo had disembarked from Ragusa's vessel, and the former two had climbed upon Holo's back in pursuit of Eve.
But they had miscalculated. After arriving at the ship they had pursued for some time, they found that Eve was not aboard.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
What distinguished her from a sick person was her entirely healthy appetite.
"Ah, well, I suppose it's what comes of running so far while carrying two people on your back."
"Aye, 'tis true I ran a bit too hard."
The only parts of her body she could properly move were her ears and tail.
But despite her terrible condition, she did not appear particularly regretful.
Even if she had come to greatly enjoy this girl's form, perhaps she simply felt her true wolf form fit her better.
When he thought about it like that, perhaps one of the sources of her displeasure during their journeys thus far was simple frustration at being unable to freely travel in her true form.
"Still," she said as Lawrence considered it. She yawned slightly before continuing, "'Tis shameful to be in such pain that I cannot get out of bed. 'Twould have been less so if those who rode on my back were also unable to rise in the morning."
She could not move her body, but her mouth worked quite well.
Holo smiled maliciously, but her attitude was completely artificial and thus hard to take seriously.
If Col had been there, he probably would have been at least moderately flustered, but fortunately he was out.
"If you're so much wiser and farseeing such that I should just leave everything to you, then perhaps I should just go ahead and follow your lead. Except I trust you haven't forgotten last night, have you?" asked Lawrence, and for once Holo did not refute him.
Quite the contrary—she bit her lip in frustration and turned away.
She seemed to remember the previous night's failure all too well.
"Honestly. Forget following your lead—I've got to keep a tighter grip on your reins. Just who did you say was whose driver again?"
It seemed like a good opportunity to make Holo consider the consequences of her actions, Lawrence thought as he pressed her.
The previous day, Holo's speed had compelled them to disembark from the boat heading down the Roam River, and they arrived in the port town of Kerube in half a day. Had they stayed on the boat, the same distance would have taken two full days.
Such speed was swifter than any horse they could have hired.
There was, in fact, a reason they had traveled so quickly.
They were pursuing stories of the bones of a great wolf found in a village in the mountainous Roef region. They had no proof, but it seemed likely they came from a wisewolf not unlike Holo, and there was the possibility that the Church authorities would attempt to desecrate the remains in order to display their own might.
That was not something Holo could abide.
Lawrence was not so arbitrary as to change his initial plan and head down the river to chase that story for that reason alone—but he was likewise not honest enough to say aloud the true reason. For his part, Lawrence was using the excuse that he wanted them to end their travels with a smile, but if he had asked Holo, there was no doubt that she would have prepared a different excuse.
In the process of gathering information regarding the wolf bones, they had discovered that among those pursuing the relics were Church authorities in the Roam River region.
And that was why they had come to the port town of Kerube—to speak with Eve, who undoubtedly knew the Roam River region front to back.
Eve, once a noblewoman and now a ruined merchant, had once conspired with the Church in Lenos, so there was no doubt her information network was deep. Also, there had been the fur incident in Lenos, where she had sunk a boat in the river simply to block it as part of her fur-export scheme, which gave Lawrence ample ingredients with which to question her.
Thus, Lawrence, Col, and Holo had disembarked from Ragusa's vessel, and the former two had climbed upon Holo's back in pursuit of Eve.
But they had miscalculated. After arriving at the ship they had pursued for some time, they found that Eve was not aboard.

Output:
There was no mistaking the fact that Eve had packed up the furs and was trying to reach Kerube.
Which meant there was a high probability that she had switched to an overland route midway through her journey. Even had she used a ship in order to transport the goods quickly, if the distance was not too far, it was hardly as if other methods were not available.
Supposing—either through good luck or as part of her plan—she had managed to procure some horses, the choice to switch to an overland route midway would not be so very strange.
On the contrary, given that a vessel had been sunk so as to block the following river traffic, it was obvious that the responsible party would be someone who had loaded that first ship with furs. Blithely toting her furs down the river was like loudly proclaiming herself to be the culprit, so switching to land travel would be a good way to avoid such suspicions.
Lawrence thought about it and concluded that Eve was already en route to Kerube. Holo had wanted to interrogate Arold as to her destination, but Lawrence managed to rein her in and continue downriver.
Around twilight, Holo had spotted a far-off caravan, confirming Lawrence's theory.
Eve led the line of horses.
Lawrence and Holo got ahead of her and waited for her arrival at the entrance to the port town of Kerube.
At that moment, Eve's face looked as if she had encountered the living corpse of someone she knew to be dead and buried.
Eve entered Kerube with Lawrence and the others, her hair fluttering in the wind that was so cold it seemed to blow directly out of an ice cave. After a short discussion, they stayed at an inn she had recommended.
The reunion took Eve completely by surprise, giving Lawrence the upper hand, but he could not help but conduct their brief conversation with a certain amount of sighing.
Holo had changed back from a wolf into a girl, and though she still glared at him, she was too tired to properly speak.
It was not as if Lawrence was unable to predict what would happen if Holo entered the same room as Eve, whom she had already quarreled with once in Lenos.
However, he had not imagined that it would come to actual blows.
"'Tis on account of your lukewarm disposition. Have you so easily forgotten just who 'twas that gave you that mark upon your face?" Holo emphasized her claim.
"Surely you don't think that criticizing another proves your own point valid, do you?"
"Hmph..." Holo shut her mouth and pulled her chin in.
She understood that she was the one in the wrong.
Yet Lawrence understood full well the reason she was not quietly accepting that and apologizing.
"I must hand it to Eve on that account. Faced with your threatening mien, she chose to withdraw rather than fight back."
Holo's eyes shifted away from Lawrence.
Left alone, Holo would have lunged at Eve right on the spot, but Lawrence had physically restrained her from doing so.
Eve's eyes had looked them over with a snakelike coldness, neither intimidated nor dismissive, and in the end, she had even smiled slightly.
"It's because she judged that picking a fight with us there held no profit for her."
"Oh, so now you'll talk to me like a child who knows not loss from gain?" snapped Holo, closing her mouth. Her expression was more and more strained, as though a thousand times as many words were swirling about within her throat.
Lawrence watched her, feeling rather exhausted.
Looking at her ears made it obvious she wasn't truly angry.
So as to why she would have acted the way she did—
"It's because Eve could tell that your anger wasn't rational, isn't it? You were angry like a child is angry. All notions of profit aside."
In other words, Eve had realized she had tread upon a tail she should not have.
If her opponent had been rationally angry, then Eve could have met her with reason, but trying to reason with an anger of passion would only have had the opposite effect. So Eve had meekly lowered her head.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
There was no mistaking the fact that Eve had packed up the furs and was trying to reach Kerube.
Which meant there was a high probability that she had switched to an overland route midway through her journey. Even had she used a ship in order to transport the goods quickly, if the distance was not too far, it was hardly as if other methods were not available.
Supposing—either through good luck or as part of her plan—she had managed to procure some horses, the choice to switch to an overland route midway would not be so very strange.
On the contrary, given that a vessel had been sunk so as to block the following river traffic, it was obvious that the responsible party would be someone who had loaded that first ship with furs. Blithely toting her furs down the river was like loudly proclaiming herself to be the culprit, so switching to land travel would be a good way to avoid such suspicions.
Lawrence thought about it and concluded that Eve was already en route to Kerube. Holo had wanted to interrogate Arold as to her destination, but Lawrence managed to rein her in and continue downriver.
Around twilight, Holo had spotted a far-off caravan, confirming Lawrence's theory.
Eve led the line of horses.
Lawrence and Holo got ahead of her and waited for her arrival at the entrance to the port town of Kerube.
At that moment, Eve's face looked as if she had encountered the living corpse of someone she knew to be dead and buried.
Eve entered Kerube with Lawrence and the others, her hair fluttering in the wind that was so cold it seemed to blow directly out of an ice cave. After a short discussion, they stayed at an inn she had recommended.
The reunion took Eve completely by surprise, giving Lawrence the upper hand, but he could not help but conduct their brief conversation with a certain amount of sighing.
Holo had changed back from a wolf into a girl, and though she still glared at him, she was too tired to properly speak.
It was not as if Lawrence was unable to predict what would happen if Holo entered the same room as Eve, whom she had already quarreled with once in Lenos.
However, he had not imagined that it would come to actual blows.
"'Tis on account of your lukewarm disposition. Have you so easily forgotten just who 'twas that gave you that mark upon your face?" Holo emphasized her claim.
"Surely you don't think that criticizing another proves your own point valid, do you?"
"Hmph..." Holo shut her mouth and pulled her chin in.
She understood that she was the one in the wrong.
Yet Lawrence understood full well the reason she was not quietly accepting that and apologizing.
"I must hand it to Eve on that account. Faced with your threatening mien, she chose to withdraw rather than fight back."
Holo's eyes shifted away from Lawrence.
Left alone, Holo would have lunged at Eve right on the spot, but Lawrence had physically restrained her from doing so.
Eve's eyes had looked them over with a snakelike coldness, neither intimidated nor dismissive, and in the end, she had even smiled slightly.
"It's because she judged that picking a fight with us there held no profit for her."
"Oh, so now you'll talk to me like a child who knows not loss from gain?" snapped Holo, closing her mouth. Her expression was more and more strained, as though a thousand times as many words were swirling about within her throat.
Lawrence watched her, feeling rather exhausted.
Looking at her ears made it obvious she wasn't truly angry.
So as to why she would have acted the way she did—
"It's because Eve could tell that your anger wasn't rational, isn't it? You were angry like a child is angry. All notions of profit aside."
In other words, Eve had realized she had tread upon a tail she should not have.
If her opponent had been rationally angry, then Eve could have met her with reason, but trying to reason with an anger of passion would only have had the opposite effect. So Eve had meekly lowered her head.

Output:
And yet she could not simply accept the situation.
While logic required Holo to excuse Eve, it was no easy thing. Holo ground her teeth before Eve's spell-like influence. To break the confrontation off required Lawrence to work some magic of his own.
She certainly was a troublesome princess.
"Well, having had such a passionate confrontation, it should make it easier to talk rationally. Easier for us to find some profit."
"...And?" Holo glared at him.
Embarrassed, Lawrence slackened his shoulders and sighed softly.
It was a sigh of acquiescence.
"If it was for me that you were so angry...thank you."
Since ancient times, promises were customarily made verbally, speaking them aloud—save, for some reason, in business.
Even now, Lawrence could not escape the awkwardness he felt when plainly speaking his feelings, but if Holo required this of him, then he would have to do it anyway.
Negotiation required finding compromises for both parties.
"Aye, if you say so." The venom finally drained from her face, and her ears flicked rapidly.
The faint chatter of the market across the street was audible through the window.
The winter sunlight was warm, and as long as one was directly in its rays, it felt almost as if spring had come.
Lawrence could not help smiling at the absurdity of it all, and Holo, too, chuckled.
It was a pleasant, peaceful moment and a precious one.
"Now then, I'll just tidy up the dishes..."
"Aye," said Holo in response to Lawrence's statement, which had been mostly to himself. Her gaze fell to her tail—which along with her ears were the only unexhausted parts of her body—as if she wanted to groom it.
It was a scene that had replayed itself many times on their journey.
However, there was one element that differed from their usual arrangement.
The element in question was Col, who had gone shopping in the marketplace, which Lawrence remembered when there was a knock at the door. After a few moments' wait, the door opened, and there stood Col, carrying a wooden bowl.
Lawrence searched his memory for exactly what it was that Col had gone out to buy, and in that moment, a strong smell reached his nose—a peculiar smell, like sweet herbs boiled in sulfurous water.
He flinched away at the overwhelming odor, but Col seemed not to mind it one bit.
"I made a salve!" he said, cheerily entering the room.
From his labored breathing, Lawrence could tell the boy had hurried.
Holo had taken a liking to Col and patted his head. Meanwhile, Col seemed to have become quite taken with Holo.
Upon seeing her state this morning, he had bounded out of the room like a hare, off into the morning bustle of the town.
The people of the northlands had exceptional knowledge of medicinal herbs like these.
It was not an overstatement to say they had remedies for everything from cuts to fevers. He had surely made a salve that would be effective for muscle pain.
Lawrence's thoughts got that far, but then he stopped himself short.
Holo.
Lawrence turned around to see the keen-eared, keen-nosed wisewolf of Yoitsu having literally turned tail and curled up in agony at the smell.
He could not help but sympathize.
But could she turn down the medicinal salve that Col had made out of the kindness of his heart?
Lawrence ignored the desperately pleading glance that Holo gave him from behind her pillow, and the moment he passed Col—
"Ah, this salve will work on your wounds, too, Mr. Lawrence."
Holo had buried her face in the pillow, but her ears pricked up happily upon hearing this.
The salve had a deep green color and a suspiciously thick consistency.
Lawrence applied some of it to a piece of cloth, then applied it to the swollen section of his right cheek. Instantly, the pungent scent pierced him like a needle, and an intense heat spread throughout his face. It stung his eyes and seemed to almost wrench his nose.
And yet Col had spared some of his meager traveling funds to make the balm, so it could not be allowed to go to waste.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
And yet she could not simply accept the situation.
While logic required Holo to excuse Eve, it was no easy thing. Holo ground her teeth before Eve's spell-like influence. To break the confrontation off required Lawrence to work some magic of his own.
She certainly was a troublesome princess.
"Well, having had such a passionate confrontation, it should make it easier to talk rationally. Easier for us to find some profit."
"...And?" Holo glared at him.
Embarrassed, Lawrence slackened his shoulders and sighed softly.
It was a sigh of acquiescence.
"If it was for me that you were so angry...thank you."
Since ancient times, promises were customarily made verbally, speaking them aloud—save, for some reason, in business.
Even now, Lawrence could not escape the awkwardness he felt when plainly speaking his feelings, but if Holo required this of him, then he would have to do it anyway.
Negotiation required finding compromises for both parties.
"Aye, if you say so." The venom finally drained from her face, and her ears flicked rapidly.
The faint chatter of the market across the street was audible through the window.
The winter sunlight was warm, and as long as one was directly in its rays, it felt almost as if spring had come.
Lawrence could not help smiling at the absurdity of it all, and Holo, too, chuckled.
It was a pleasant, peaceful moment and a precious one.
"Now then, I'll just tidy up the dishes..."
"Aye," said Holo in response to Lawrence's statement, which had been mostly to himself. Her gaze fell to her tail—which along with her ears were the only unexhausted parts of her body—as if she wanted to groom it.
It was a scene that had replayed itself many times on their journey.
However, there was one element that differed from their usual arrangement.
The element in question was Col, who had gone shopping in the marketplace, which Lawrence remembered when there was a knock at the door. After a few moments' wait, the door opened, and there stood Col, carrying a wooden bowl.
Lawrence searched his memory for exactly what it was that Col had gone out to buy, and in that moment, a strong smell reached his nose—a peculiar smell, like sweet herbs boiled in sulfurous water.
He flinched away at the overwhelming odor, but Col seemed not to mind it one bit.
"I made a salve!" he said, cheerily entering the room.
From his labored breathing, Lawrence could tell the boy had hurried.
Holo had taken a liking to Col and patted his head. Meanwhile, Col seemed to have become quite taken with Holo.
Upon seeing her state this morning, he had bounded out of the room like a hare, off into the morning bustle of the town.
The people of the northlands had exceptional knowledge of medicinal herbs like these.
It was not an overstatement to say they had remedies for everything from cuts to fevers. He had surely made a salve that would be effective for muscle pain.
Lawrence's thoughts got that far, but then he stopped himself short.
Holo.
Lawrence turned around to see the keen-eared, keen-nosed wisewolf of Yoitsu having literally turned tail and curled up in agony at the smell.
He could not help but sympathize.
But could she turn down the medicinal salve that Col had made out of the kindness of his heart?
Lawrence ignored the desperately pleading glance that Holo gave him from behind her pillow, and the moment he passed Col—
"Ah, this salve will work on your wounds, too, Mr. Lawrence."
Holo had buried her face in the pillow, but her ears pricked up happily upon hearing this.
The salve had a deep green color and a suspiciously thick consistency.
Lawrence applied some of it to a piece of cloth, then applied it to the swollen section of his right cheek. Instantly, the pungent scent pierced him like a needle, and an intense heat spread throughout his face. It stung his eyes and seemed to almost wrench his nose.
And yet Col had spared some of his meager traveling funds to make the balm, so it could not be allowed to go to waste.

Output:
When Lawrence rubbed it on Holo's shoulders and back, she looked at him with truly terrified eyes. Given how sensitive her nose was, she was doubtlessly truly suffering.
And yet some part of Lawrence felt as if he should not have to be the only one forced to endure the stuff, and given that it did seem to be effective, he rubbed it on Holo all the same.
Holo made indescribable noises as he applied it to her, none of which were remotely charming.
As penance, Lawrence would probably have to buy her new clothes later. That or some fine wine.
Once he was finished rubbing it in, she gave him a final, venomous glance, which he supposed was unavoidable.
"Oh, that's right. The merchant we met yesterday on the way here said she wants to meet with you."
Once he finished applying the salve to the places on Holo's body that were particularly afflicted, Lawrence wiped the excess from his hands.
It seemed clear enough that it was strong medicine, so it probably would have some sort of effect.
As he replied to Col, Lawrence regarded Holo from the corner of his eye—she was curled up and groaning on the bed, probably from the salve's smell. "The merchant we met yesterday? You mean Eve?"
"That's right."
"Haste is a virtue, eh? She'll be gone today or tomorrow, I guess."
Though she was fallen nobility, Eve was moving up in the merchants' world with incredible momentum.
In Lenos, the town of lumber and fur, she had ensnared Lawrence as part of an unbelievable fur trade. In addition to the fur she had gained in her enormous gamble, she had gone to the absurd length of sinking a ship in the river so that no one else would be able to move fur the way she had.
With her cunning mind and abundant pluck, she had taken every precaution, but if she dawdled in this town, the dike she had built of dangerous dealings was likely to burst. She would want to hasten far away as soon as possible.
Also, she had to move the fur she had brought from Lenos from here to the next town.
While the town had only just begun to rise, it was probably too slow for Eve.
"Where did she say I should go?"
"Er, she said she'd visit the inn after a bit."
"...I see."
Eve was a rather busy person at the moment, so that she would go out of her way to come here carried heavy implications.
The first thing Lawrence thought was that she would want to avoid being accused of sinking the ship in the Roam River.
"So, did you eat breakfast?"
"Huh? Ah...er, yes."
While he lacked Holo's talent for it, as a merchant, Lawrence was reasonably good at spotting lies.
He lightly poked Col's head, and then without saying anything, he thrust a sack of bread at him.
Most likely he had used his breakfast money to buy the herbs with which he had brewed and made the salve.
With the dangerous goal of using Church authority to protect a pagan village, Col had traveled to the south to study Church law—the boy was more orthodox than the orthodox.
Col hesitated to accept the sack, but Lawrence pretended not to notice, venturing over to Holo, who was still moaning under the blanket.
When he informed her of his plan to go out for a bit, she did not raise her head, replying instead with her ears.
Lawrence had wondered if the odor might be enough to make her faint, but surprisingly, that appeared not to be the case.
Lawrence, too, had begun to find the scent less off-putting. The swollen patch on his right cheek felt somehow hot, and in turn, the bruise began to feel better.
Holo the wolf surely, he supposed, had an even clearer understanding of the medicine's effect on her body.
From the far side of the bed, he heard the words, "I'll not forgive you if you lose." From this, he concluded his guess was not incorrect.
A bit relieved, Lawrence looked over his shoulder, whereupon Col—who had been holding the sack abashedly for some time—stood, bread in both hands.
The bag contained both normal rye bread and rye baked with milk, but Col held only the former. Lawrence could not help but grin at the boy's reserve.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
When Lawrence rubbed it on Holo's shoulders and back, she looked at him with truly terrified eyes. Given how sensitive her nose was, she was doubtlessly truly suffering.
And yet some part of Lawrence felt as if he should not have to be the only one forced to endure the stuff, and given that it did seem to be effective, he rubbed it on Holo all the same.
Holo made indescribable noises as he applied it to her, none of which were remotely charming.
As penance, Lawrence would probably have to buy her new clothes later. That or some fine wine.
Once he was finished rubbing it in, she gave him a final, venomous glance, which he supposed was unavoidable.
"Oh, that's right. The merchant we met yesterday on the way here said she wants to meet with you."
Once he finished applying the salve to the places on Holo's body that were particularly afflicted, Lawrence wiped the excess from his hands.
It seemed clear enough that it was strong medicine, so it probably would have some sort of effect.
As he replied to Col, Lawrence regarded Holo from the corner of his eye—she was curled up and groaning on the bed, probably from the salve's smell. "The merchant we met yesterday? You mean Eve?"
"That's right."
"Haste is a virtue, eh? She'll be gone today or tomorrow, I guess."
Though she was fallen nobility, Eve was moving up in the merchants' world with incredible momentum.
In Lenos, the town of lumber and fur, she had ensnared Lawrence as part of an unbelievable fur trade. In addition to the fur she had gained in her enormous gamble, she had gone to the absurd length of sinking a ship in the river so that no one else would be able to move fur the way she had.
With her cunning mind and abundant pluck, she had taken every precaution, but if she dawdled in this town, the dike she had built of dangerous dealings was likely to burst. She would want to hasten far away as soon as possible.
Also, she had to move the fur she had brought from Lenos from here to the next town.
While the town had only just begun to rise, it was probably too slow for Eve.
"Where did she say I should go?"
"Er, she said she'd visit the inn after a bit."
"...I see."
Eve was a rather busy person at the moment, so that she would go out of her way to come here carried heavy implications.
The first thing Lawrence thought was that she would want to avoid being accused of sinking the ship in the Roam River.
"So, did you eat breakfast?"
"Huh? Ah...er, yes."
While he lacked Holo's talent for it, as a merchant, Lawrence was reasonably good at spotting lies.
He lightly poked Col's head, and then without saying anything, he thrust a sack of bread at him.
Most likely he had used his breakfast money to buy the herbs with which he had brewed and made the salve.
With the dangerous goal of using Church authority to protect a pagan village, Col had traveled to the south to study Church law—the boy was more orthodox than the orthodox.
Col hesitated to accept the sack, but Lawrence pretended not to notice, venturing over to Holo, who was still moaning under the blanket.
When he informed her of his plan to go out for a bit, she did not raise her head, replying instead with her ears.
Lawrence had wondered if the odor might be enough to make her faint, but surprisingly, that appeared not to be the case.
Lawrence, too, had begun to find the scent less off-putting. The swollen patch on his right cheek felt somehow hot, and in turn, the bruise began to feel better.
Holo the wolf surely, he supposed, had an even clearer understanding of the medicine's effect on her body.
From the far side of the bed, he heard the words, "I'll not forgive you if you lose." From this, he concluded his guess was not incorrect.
A bit relieved, Lawrence looked over his shoulder, whereupon Col—who had been holding the sack abashedly for some time—stood, bread in both hands.
The bag contained both normal rye bread and rye baked with milk, but Col held only the former. Lawrence could not help but grin at the boy's reserve.

Output:
"So, are you coming?" Lawrence asked, meaning if Col planned to come along to the meeting with Eve.
Col's eyes darted about for a moment, but then he nodded.
Lawrence intended to ask Eve about the wolf's leg bone that supposedly came from a spirit or god like Holo, which in turn was the god that the village of Col's birth worshipped.
It was to discover the truth of the stories surrounding this wolf-god's bone that Col was traveling with Lawrence and Holo in the first place.
All of which meant that he had every reason to want to come along.
And yet Lawrence had the feeling that if he hadn't invited the boy along, he would not have come.
Despite his youth, he was of a nervously polite disposition.
His attraction to Holo was surely rooted in his finding her casual arrogance refreshing.
"Well, you'd best finish that bread quickly, then," said Lawrence as he left the room, and Col hastily jammed the bread into his mouth.
"R-right!"
Lawrence then offered a further statement. "Once you're finished, of course, don't forget your 'I just ate rye bread!' face!"
Though Col had enjoyed a good, cultured upbringing in the abbey, it seemed his impoverished travels had wreaked havoc on his table manners, and he was a bit wild.
His cheeks packed squirrel-like with bread, he stood there blankly.
He then seemed to understand what Lawrence meant, and swallowing the bread with a grin, he answered, "The Church also teaches that we should hide our mouths when we eat."
"But that's to hide when you're eating something good, is it not?"
Lawrence closed the door and began to walk with Col following one step behind him like a faithful son.
"Thank you for the bread. It was delicious," said Col—and being a bright lad, he said it with a bit of a smile.
The first floor of the inn was a dining area.
It was generally accepted that only travelers indulged in the extravagance known as "breakfast," so those sitting at the tables were all dressed for journeying.
Among them was Eve at her table, looking as she always did. At a glance, she appeared every bit a traveler about to start on some journey.
And it was entirely possible that her appearance was accurate. What most concerned Lawrence at that moment was that not only did Eve have her face mostly hidden behind the scarf she wrapped around it, but also that the scarf covered her nose.
"...What a terrible odor."
The innkeeper behind the counter was giving Lawrence a dirty look, and the other customers were stunned enough that they forgot their anger.
Lawrence remained defiantly unworried, and Col for his part seemed genuinely unconcerned.
While the scents that people preferred differed from region to region, surely this was an extreme example, Lawrence thought to himself as he sat across from Eve.
Whereupon Eve said something truly unexpected.
"Still, I've not smelled this in a long time. Doubtless that bruise of yours will be gone by evening."
The right cheek to which Col's salve had been applied was the same right cheek that Eve had struck hard with a hatchet handle during her fight with Lawrence.
Her tone was slightly joking. "So he prepared a remedy for you, eh? Educated lad," she said with mild exaggeration in her voice, looking past Lawrence to Col, who stood behind him. "From Roef, are you?"
Eve quietly fixed Col in her gaze, then closed her eyes briefly.
Lawrence could not guess at what she might have been thinking.
"At any rate, I know the banks of the Roam River backward and forward. And it's that knowledge that you've pursued me here for, yes? And with such unbelievable speed that I can't imagine how you managed it."
Through the gap in the scarf with which she hid her face, her eyes narrowed.
It was the virtue of all merchants that even if they had been prepared to kill each other yesterday, if their interests were aligned today, they'd happily shake hands. Without a contractual relationship, there would be no lingering emotional resentment.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"So, are you coming?" Lawrence asked, meaning if Col planned to come along to the meeting with Eve.
Col's eyes darted about for a moment, but then he nodded.
Lawrence intended to ask Eve about the wolf's leg bone that supposedly came from a spirit or god like Holo, which in turn was the god that the village of Col's birth worshipped.
It was to discover the truth of the stories surrounding this wolf-god's bone that Col was traveling with Lawrence and Holo in the first place.
All of which meant that he had every reason to want to come along.
And yet Lawrence had the feeling that if he hadn't invited the boy along, he would not have come.
Despite his youth, he was of a nervously polite disposition.
His attraction to Holo was surely rooted in his finding her casual arrogance refreshing.
"Well, you'd best finish that bread quickly, then," said Lawrence as he left the room, and Col hastily jammed the bread into his mouth.
"R-right!"
Lawrence then offered a further statement. "Once you're finished, of course, don't forget your 'I just ate rye bread!' face!"
Though Col had enjoyed a good, cultured upbringing in the abbey, it seemed his impoverished travels had wreaked havoc on his table manners, and he was a bit wild.
His cheeks packed squirrel-like with bread, he stood there blankly.
He then seemed to understand what Lawrence meant, and swallowing the bread with a grin, he answered, "The Church also teaches that we should hide our mouths when we eat."
"But that's to hide when you're eating something good, is it not?"
Lawrence closed the door and began to walk with Col following one step behind him like a faithful son.
"Thank you for the bread. It was delicious," said Col—and being a bright lad, he said it with a bit of a smile.
The first floor of the inn was a dining area.
It was generally accepted that only travelers indulged in the extravagance known as "breakfast," so those sitting at the tables were all dressed for journeying.
Among them was Eve at her table, looking as she always did. At a glance, she appeared every bit a traveler about to start on some journey.
And it was entirely possible that her appearance was accurate. What most concerned Lawrence at that moment was that not only did Eve have her face mostly hidden behind the scarf she wrapped around it, but also that the scarf covered her nose.
"...What a terrible odor."
The innkeeper behind the counter was giving Lawrence a dirty look, and the other customers were stunned enough that they forgot their anger.
Lawrence remained defiantly unworried, and Col for his part seemed genuinely unconcerned.
While the scents that people preferred differed from region to region, surely this was an extreme example, Lawrence thought to himself as he sat across from Eve.
Whereupon Eve said something truly unexpected.
"Still, I've not smelled this in a long time. Doubtless that bruise of yours will be gone by evening."
The right cheek to which Col's salve had been applied was the same right cheek that Eve had struck hard with a hatchet handle during her fight with Lawrence.
Her tone was slightly joking. "So he prepared a remedy for you, eh? Educated lad," she said with mild exaggeration in her voice, looking past Lawrence to Col, who stood behind him. "From Roef, are you?"
Eve quietly fixed Col in her gaze, then closed her eyes briefly.
Lawrence could not guess at what she might have been thinking.
"At any rate, I know the banks of the Roam River backward and forward. And it's that knowledge that you've pursued me here for, yes? And with such unbelievable speed that I can't imagine how you managed it."
Through the gap in the scarf with which she hid her face, her eyes narrowed.
It was the virtue of all merchants that even if they had been prepared to kill each other yesterday, if their interests were aligned today, they'd happily shake hands. Without a contractual relationship, there would be no lingering emotional resentment.

Output:
"My shock last night was the deepest I've had in many years. I wondered if there'd been some mistake with the contract."
Though he always found himself confused by Holo's roundabout way of speaking, this sort of exchange was one Lawrence understood all too well.
The buzzing in his chest was an emotion not unlike love.
This game merchants played, each trying to sound the other out and learn the other's true motives—it was a delight, it tickled.
"It's true, I seek only your knowledge—no contract of trade binds us." Given the circumstances, Lawrence wanted to make it entirely clear that he was not after Eve's furs.
Eve nodded faintly, then stood from her seat. "Let's move elsewhere. We're only earning the ire of the innkeeper and our fellow patrons here," she said impishly.
But it was not necessarily a joke, so Lawrence stood and, with Col in tow, followed Eve.
"So, what of your companion?" she asked.
They emerged from the inn onto a narrow street—it was more of a broad alleyway, truth be told.
The town of Kerube was divided into northern and southern halves by the river, and the inn at which Lawrence was staying was on the northern part.
Clean buildings were few and far between on the north side, and while the riverside market was a lively one, even a short distance away alleys and slumping construction were common. The overwhelming impression was one of desperation.
Building height was far from uniform, either because the local government had generous policies on matters of scenic aesthetics, or because it simply lacked the political power to do anything about this.
Lawrence mused on the matter as Eve headed without hesitation to the opposite side of the market.
"My companion is quite tired from our journey. She's in bed with this salve on her body."
"That's..." Eve trailed off, then looked back to Col, and behind her scarf Lawrence could tell she was smiling. "...Well, you'll know soon enough."
Even if it had not been about Holo, Lawrence could tell she had restrained herself from offering sarcastic condolences.
Col wore a proud, if oblivious, smile.
"Still, that may be fortunate for me. And fortunate for you, as well, I should say."
"For both sides, then." Lawrence slumped and gave a tired smile.
Holo's anger was the reason he had not asked Eve what she knew the previous night.
"Still, someone who will become angry on your behalf is a precious asset. You'd best value her."
"She thinks of me as her asset, and she was probably angry at her property being damaged."
Eve's shoulders shook beneath her cloak.
She then veered toward the edge of the street, to avoid a woman approaching them with a basketful of winter vegetables.
They were undoubtedly bound for sale at the market, and compared to their summer counterparts, they were a deep green and looked cold. No doubt they were best used in soup rather than eaten raw or pickled.
"If you are indeed your companion's property, she would've sought compensation. But she instead sought revenge." Lawrence thought he saw a flash of loneliness in Eve's pale blue eyes.
Eve's house had fallen into poverty, and she'd been sold, name and all, to a wealthy merchant looking to purchase a noble title for himself.
Money. Or revenge.
Lawrence felt as though just thinking about it caused Eve pain.
He regretted the poor choice of words his banter showed.
"Heh. Once you've inspired your opponent's guilt and sympathy, it makes dealing with them that much easier," said Eve.
At her words, Lawrence returned to his senses with a start.
Techniques of seduction and false tears always trumped more honest ways of doing business.
Despite his wariness, he'd been taken in.
But Lawrence smiled and scratched his head abashedly, naturally with good reason. "And why would you venture to admit that?" he asked, enjoying posing the riddle as he looked at Col, who was concentrating hard as he tried to follow the conversation. "By revealing your own trap to me like that, you're trying to get me to let my guard down."


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
"My shock last night was the deepest I've had in many years. I wondered if there'd been some mistake with the contract."
Though he always found himself confused by Holo's roundabout way of speaking, this sort of exchange was one Lawrence understood all too well.
The buzzing in his chest was an emotion not unlike love.
This game merchants played, each trying to sound the other out and learn the other's true motives—it was a delight, it tickled.
"It's true, I seek only your knowledge—no contract of trade binds us." Given the circumstances, Lawrence wanted to make it entirely clear that he was not after Eve's furs.
Eve nodded faintly, then stood from her seat. "Let's move elsewhere. We're only earning the ire of the innkeeper and our fellow patrons here," she said impishly.
But it was not necessarily a joke, so Lawrence stood and, with Col in tow, followed Eve.
"So, what of your companion?" she asked.
They emerged from the inn onto a narrow street—it was more of a broad alleyway, truth be told.
The town of Kerube was divided into northern and southern halves by the river, and the inn at which Lawrence was staying was on the northern part.
Clean buildings were few and far between on the north side, and while the riverside market was a lively one, even a short distance away alleys and slumping construction were common. The overwhelming impression was one of desperation.
Building height was far from uniform, either because the local government had generous policies on matters of scenic aesthetics, or because it simply lacked the political power to do anything about this.
Lawrence mused on the matter as Eve headed without hesitation to the opposite side of the market.
"My companion is quite tired from our journey. She's in bed with this salve on her body."
"That's..." Eve trailed off, then looked back to Col, and behind her scarf Lawrence could tell she was smiling. "...Well, you'll know soon enough."
Even if it had not been about Holo, Lawrence could tell she had restrained herself from offering sarcastic condolences.
Col wore a proud, if oblivious, smile.
"Still, that may be fortunate for me. And fortunate for you, as well, I should say."
"For both sides, then." Lawrence slumped and gave a tired smile.
Holo's anger was the reason he had not asked Eve what she knew the previous night.
"Still, someone who will become angry on your behalf is a precious asset. You'd best value her."
"She thinks of me as her asset, and she was probably angry at her property being damaged."
Eve's shoulders shook beneath her cloak.
She then veered toward the edge of the street, to avoid a woman approaching them with a basketful of winter vegetables.
They were undoubtedly bound for sale at the market, and compared to their summer counterparts, they were a deep green and looked cold. No doubt they were best used in soup rather than eaten raw or pickled.
"If you are indeed your companion's property, she would've sought compensation. But she instead sought revenge." Lawrence thought he saw a flash of loneliness in Eve's pale blue eyes.
Eve's house had fallen into poverty, and she'd been sold, name and all, to a wealthy merchant looking to purchase a noble title for himself.
Money. Or revenge.
Lawrence felt as though just thinking about it caused Eve pain.
He regretted the poor choice of words his banter showed.
"Heh. Once you've inspired your opponent's guilt and sympathy, it makes dealing with them that much easier," said Eve.
At her words, Lawrence returned to his senses with a start.
Techniques of seduction and false tears always trumped more honest ways of doing business.
Despite his wariness, he'd been taken in.
But Lawrence smiled and scratched his head abashedly, naturally with good reason. "And why would you venture to admit that?" he asked, enjoying posing the riddle as he looked at Col, who was concentrating hard as he tried to follow the conversation. "By revealing your own trap to me like that, you're trying to get me to let my guard down."

Output:
There was no doubt that if she removed her scarf, she'd be smiling and showing her fangs at that very moment.
He thought he understood now what Holo meant when she called Eve a "vixen."
As a merchant, Eve was very like a wolf, but Holo did not want to acknowledge her as a peer.
"Ah, we've arrived."
"Where's this?"
As soon as they stopped, Col walked right into Lawrence. The boy had undoubtedly been concentrating on the conversation between Lawrence and Eve, trying to understand even some small piece of it.
Lawrence remembered doing the same thing with his own master, and it made him a bit nostalgic.
"My foothold in this town. If I told you it's like a trading company without a sign, you'd be able to imagine what I meant, no?"
In contrast to the surrounding buildings, the walls were blackened and the roof seemed likely to slide right down into the alley, although the stone foundation seemed sturdy enough.
Col seemed worried by Eve's theatrical statement and gulped nervously.
But of course she was joking. A closer look at the black walls revealed a discolored patch where something had been removed.
In other words, a ruined or bankrupt trading company.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd tease us a little less," said Lawrence to Eve's back as she put her hand to the door, at which point he heard Col let slip a small "huh?"
The boy seemed to have realized in that moment that he was the only one who had not understood.
Eve turned, though surely not to confirm Col's reaction. "Out of consideration for your adorable little apprentice?" she inquired, amused.
"Unfortunately, he's not my apprentice, nor is he a merchant. So I wish you'd not twist the poor lad's mind too much."
At these words, Eve burst out laughing in a most un-Eve-like manner. "Ha-ha-ha! It's true! Oh, it's true—we merchants are a twisted lot."
Unconcerned with the frustration of poor Col, whose jaw clenched at this exchange that went right over his head, the two twisted merchants entered the building.
Lawrence looked back over his shoulder at Col, who followed with an expression of displeasure on his face.
He must have thought he was being made sport of.
Lawrence grimaced and heaved a long-suffering sigh.
It occurred to him that too much time around merchants would distort the boy's pleasant disposition. Such a waste.
They were served warm goat's milk mixed with butter and mead.
In Col's case, he received plain honey in the mead's stead.
Perhaps owing to the butter's quality, it made Lawrence wish for some slightly bitter rye bread to go with it.
"So Arold has not yet arrived, then?"
As soon as they all entered the building, silence fell in the interior.
The only sounds were the crackling of the fire in the fireplace and the goat's milk bubbling away in a pot directly beside it.
There were no other sounds as Lawrence watched Eve sit in front of the fireplace and prepare their drinks with surprising efficiency.
"Probably by this evening. Will you eat?" asked Eve, holding some rye bread that she'd cut into chunks with a knife.
Into the earthen-rimmed wooden bowls was poured the goat's milk, now boiled down to the point where it resembled melted cheese.
With salt and oil added and topped with slices of herring, there was no doubt it would be delicious.
"If this is the sort of food you eat, your next journey will be a harsh one."
"Quite right. A taste for fine food sends the costs of travel into the sky. But if you're not a merchant, there's no need to worry about such things, is there?" asked Eve, setting a piece of bread before Col. "It's a kind of fate, being a likable person," she added, smiling as she removed the scarf she wore, baring her face.
Watching Col's shocked face in that moment was rather amusing.
"I suppose I've a bit of motherliness left in me after all," declared Eve with a self-mocking smile, hiding her worry and pain. She was startlingly beautiful.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
There was no doubt that if she removed her scarf, she'd be smiling and showing her fangs at that very moment.
He thought he understood now what Holo meant when she called Eve a "vixen."
As a merchant, Eve was very like a wolf, but Holo did not want to acknowledge her as a peer.
"Ah, we've arrived."
"Where's this?"
As soon as they stopped, Col walked right into Lawrence. The boy had undoubtedly been concentrating on the conversation between Lawrence and Eve, trying to understand even some small piece of it.
Lawrence remembered doing the same thing with his own master, and it made him a bit nostalgic.
"My foothold in this town. If I told you it's like a trading company without a sign, you'd be able to imagine what I meant, no?"
In contrast to the surrounding buildings, the walls were blackened and the roof seemed likely to slide right down into the alley, although the stone foundation seemed sturdy enough.
Col seemed worried by Eve's theatrical statement and gulped nervously.
But of course she was joking. A closer look at the black walls revealed a discolored patch where something had been removed.
In other words, a ruined or bankrupt trading company.
"I'd appreciate it if you'd tease us a little less," said Lawrence to Eve's back as she put her hand to the door, at which point he heard Col let slip a small "huh?"
The boy seemed to have realized in that moment that he was the only one who had not understood.
Eve turned, though surely not to confirm Col's reaction. "Out of consideration for your adorable little apprentice?" she inquired, amused.
"Unfortunately, he's not my apprentice, nor is he a merchant. So I wish you'd not twist the poor lad's mind too much."
At these words, Eve burst out laughing in a most un-Eve-like manner. "Ha-ha-ha! It's true! Oh, it's true—we merchants are a twisted lot."
Unconcerned with the frustration of poor Col, whose jaw clenched at this exchange that went right over his head, the two twisted merchants entered the building.
Lawrence looked back over his shoulder at Col, who followed with an expression of displeasure on his face.
He must have thought he was being made sport of.
Lawrence grimaced and heaved a long-suffering sigh.
It occurred to him that too much time around merchants would distort the boy's pleasant disposition. Such a waste.
They were served warm goat's milk mixed with butter and mead.
In Col's case, he received plain honey in the mead's stead.
Perhaps owing to the butter's quality, it made Lawrence wish for some slightly bitter rye bread to go with it.
"So Arold has not yet arrived, then?"
As soon as they all entered the building, silence fell in the interior.
The only sounds were the crackling of the fire in the fireplace and the goat's milk bubbling away in a pot directly beside it.
There were no other sounds as Lawrence watched Eve sit in front of the fireplace and prepare their drinks with surprising efficiency.
"Probably by this evening. Will you eat?" asked Eve, holding some rye bread that she'd cut into chunks with a knife.
Into the earthen-rimmed wooden bowls was poured the goat's milk, now boiled down to the point where it resembled melted cheese.
With salt and oil added and topped with slices of herring, there was no doubt it would be delicious.
"If this is the sort of food you eat, your next journey will be a harsh one."
"Quite right. A taste for fine food sends the costs of travel into the sky. But if you're not a merchant, there's no need to worry about such things, is there?" asked Eve, setting a piece of bread before Col. "It's a kind of fate, being a likable person," she added, smiling as she removed the scarf she wore, baring her face.
Watching Col's shocked face in that moment was rather amusing.
"I suppose I've a bit of motherliness left in me after all," declared Eve with a self-mocking smile, hiding her worry and pain. She was startlingly beautiful.

Output:
Not even the most canny of men could compare with Eve's ever-changing identities and faces.
"So, you had something to ask me?" Eve broke the silence as she watched Col slowly savor the bread, unlike the way he had wolfed down the portion Lawrence had given him earlier.
"Yes, about a cursed story."
"Ah, the talk of this riverside company looking for a holy relic—though I don't know if the pagans would call it 'holy.'"
Lawrence nodded, and Eve's gaze became distant.
"Those rumors started circulating in the Roam River region about two years ago. At the time, anybody who'd ever dirtied his hands in bad business was excited about it."
"And the truth?"
A child could be heard crying far away.
Within the town, the cries of children were more common than birdsong.
"Just what you'd expect. As long as there was no word of the bone being found, the rumors deflated as quickly as they'd spread. It turned into a joke."
He doubted Eve was lying—most importantly, she had no reason to.
And yet smoke didn't rise without a fire at its source.
"Does it fit that the rumor's source would be a company in Lesko, a town up the Roef River, one of the Roam's tributaries?"
The company in Lesko had conducted a trade in copper coins with the Jean Company here in Kerube.
But the copper coin trade had a strange twist. The number of cases of coin that had been imported did not match the number exported.
Lawrence remained ignorant, but Col, whose relish in devouring the bread was enough to make even Eve's eyes narrow in laughter, seemed to realize the reason.
As there was no need to know the answer immediately, Lawrence still had not asked, but if it came to his inability to solve the riddle by himself, one could hardly fail to be frustrated.
"Indeed. I believe it was called the Debau Company. A scenic place where they held the mining rights to Lesko in an iron fist."
"And for this town, they mainly dealt with the Jean Company, yes?"
"Oh ho. I'd love to know where you picked up that little tidbit. You're quite well informed." Eve popped a bit of bread dipped in goat's milk into her mouth.
Lawrence watched this and realized that he could have probably brought Holo along.
Such a delicious dish would doubtless have turned her attitude toward conciliatory.
"Well informed about the Debau Company in Lesko and the church in Lenos that was so quarrelsome about our furs. And you know the Jean Company here in this town that makes the copper goods trade its cornerstone. The Debau Company and the Jean Company should be on rather good terms."
"And what would be the reason for that?" Lawrence immediately asked, at which Eve pulled one corner of her lips up in a smirk.
Col noticed this and looked up.
"Apologies. I meant nothing by it," Eve said, looking down and brushing his mouth with her hand. She then gave Lawrence a sidelong glance. "My impression is that you're a reasonably cautious merchant. So why are you so concerned about this foolishness?"
Merchants, in general, asked questions only when they already knew the gist of the answer.
Eve smiled calmly, though she seemed as if she was enjoying herself a great deal.
"As I'm sure you've guessed, my companion was born in the north," answered Lawrence.
Eve's mouth was hidden behind the cup she brought to her lips, her face seeming to say, "I'll bet she was." "I doubt you'd pursue such irrational folly unless it was for that fetching young lady of yours."
"I don't know about that." Frustratingly, Lawrence could not help making an excuse.
Eve only smiled with the corners of her eyes and did not press her attack. "Well, if the body of a god once revered in her homeland is being sold off for mere coin, I don't suppose she can simply stand there and let it happen. But if that's the case, there's something that bothers me."
"And that is?"
Her cup still at her lips, Eve looked at Lawrence with upturned eyes.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Not even the most canny of men could compare with Eve's ever-changing identities and faces.
"So, you had something to ask me?" Eve broke the silence as she watched Col slowly savor the bread, unlike the way he had wolfed down the portion Lawrence had given him earlier.
"Yes, about a cursed story."
"Ah, the talk of this riverside company looking for a holy relic—though I don't know if the pagans would call it 'holy.'"
Lawrence nodded, and Eve's gaze became distant.
"Those rumors started circulating in the Roam River region about two years ago. At the time, anybody who'd ever dirtied his hands in bad business was excited about it."
"And the truth?"
A child could be heard crying far away.
Within the town, the cries of children were more common than birdsong.
"Just what you'd expect. As long as there was no word of the bone being found, the rumors deflated as quickly as they'd spread. It turned into a joke."
He doubted Eve was lying—most importantly, she had no reason to.
And yet smoke didn't rise without a fire at its source.
"Does it fit that the rumor's source would be a company in Lesko, a town up the Roef River, one of the Roam's tributaries?"
The company in Lesko had conducted a trade in copper coins with the Jean Company here in Kerube.
But the copper coin trade had a strange twist. The number of cases of coin that had been imported did not match the number exported.
Lawrence remained ignorant, but Col, whose relish in devouring the bread was enough to make even Eve's eyes narrow in laughter, seemed to realize the reason.
As there was no need to know the answer immediately, Lawrence still had not asked, but if it came to his inability to solve the riddle by himself, one could hardly fail to be frustrated.
"Indeed. I believe it was called the Debau Company. A scenic place where they held the mining rights to Lesko in an iron fist."
"And for this town, they mainly dealt with the Jean Company, yes?"
"Oh ho. I'd love to know where you picked up that little tidbit. You're quite well informed." Eve popped a bit of bread dipped in goat's milk into her mouth.
Lawrence watched this and realized that he could have probably brought Holo along.
Such a delicious dish would doubtless have turned her attitude toward conciliatory.
"Well informed about the Debau Company in Lesko and the church in Lenos that was so quarrelsome about our furs. And you know the Jean Company here in this town that makes the copper goods trade its cornerstone. The Debau Company and the Jean Company should be on rather good terms."
"And what would be the reason for that?" Lawrence immediately asked, at which Eve pulled one corner of her lips up in a smirk.
Col noticed this and looked up.
"Apologies. I meant nothing by it," Eve said, looking down and brushing his mouth with her hand. She then gave Lawrence a sidelong glance. "My impression is that you're a reasonably cautious merchant. So why are you so concerned about this foolishness?"
Merchants, in general, asked questions only when they already knew the gist of the answer.
Eve smiled calmly, though she seemed as if she was enjoying herself a great deal.
"As I'm sure you've guessed, my companion was born in the north," answered Lawrence.
Eve's mouth was hidden behind the cup she brought to her lips, her face seeming to say, "I'll bet she was." "I doubt you'd pursue such irrational folly unless it was for that fetching young lady of yours."
"I don't know about that." Frustratingly, Lawrence could not help making an excuse.
Eve only smiled with the corners of her eyes and did not press her attack. "Well, if the body of a god once revered in her homeland is being sold off for mere coin, I don't suppose she can simply stand there and let it happen. But if that's the case, there's something that bothers me."
"And that is?"
Her cup still at her lips, Eve looked at Lawrence with upturned eyes.

Output:
"You're a merchant who buys with coin, are you not? So are you your companion's ally or her enemy? Are you righteous? Or...are you evil?"
Col froze, suddenly surprised.
It was true—Lawrence was a merchant who made money and dealt with goods on those terms.
Which put him in the same class as those who were attempting to buy the bones of a wolf that was said to have been a god and to put them to who knew what use. Merchants opened all doors with the key of coin.
If this talk of the wolf bone was true and if they managed to discover its whereabouts, Lawrence would surely put his merchant's skills to use in recovering it.
And when he did, what would Holo and Col think of that?
In such a case, was Lawrence their ally? Or was the act itself inherently evil or inherently good?
Lawrence put the goat's milk to his lips before answering.
"It's no sin to buy goods with money. What's often evil is buying things that are not mere goods."
"Meaning?"
"If I were to buy the bone in an attempt to gain influence or power or to attract her attention to me, then she would surely loathe me. But money is after all a tool for purchasing goods. It only becomes evil when it's used to buy other things, like an ax used as a weapon rather than to cut wood. And my companion knows that."
Eve narrowed her eyes, her lips curling still further.
Merchants who dealt with all things in terms of money were often asked about the virtue of such a life.
A merchant's status was reckoned based on how they were able to answer when such a question was put to them.
The quality of one's sense of justice was the measure of a person; placed on a scale, it would balance against his trustworthiness.
It was not certain whether Eve believed it to quite that degree, but the idea was clearly at least part of her calculations.
She smiled grimly upon hearing Lawrence's answer, and her expression suddenly softened as she thrust out the cup she held in her hand. "Well, you're the sort I'd want to do business with. Sorry for asking such strange questions."
Lawrence, too, relaxed his uninjured left cheek and raised his own cup in answer to Eve's.
She barely avoided touching her cup to his, a technique normally used to avoid damaging expensive silver chalices. Her use of the technique showed that she felt the occasion was worthy of fine silver.
"I've said before, I envy you and your companion. I've never felt that so much as I do now."
"I shall take that as a point of pride."
Eve's shoulders shook with her voiceless laugh.
Her gaze shifted from Lawrence to Col, and her merchant's face returned as she spoke. "I understand that you're not Kraft Lawrence's apprentice, and I must tell you, from the depths of my heart, that I think that's a waste."
Col blinked rapidly at the words, then looked down, troubled.
Even as he laughed, Lawrence thought it a shame.
Col's consternation meant that he could not even entertain Eve's suggestion.
Eve seemed to understand that, too, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was looking at Lawrence. "You probably know this, but the news of the Debau Company searching for the wolf bone is no hundred-lumione tale. If you bungle things, you'll learn just how cheap a human life can be. And yet I trust my merchant's instincts, and I'm thinking of trusting you just as much."
Lawrence swirled his cup around, then brought its contents slowly to his lips.
If he failed to make a grand gesture here, Holo would surely be angry with him.
"I've chosen life over wealth. But I value my companion still more than my life, so I have expectations of my own."
His true feelings were out now in this dialogue of life and death with Eve.