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

Input:
"It would be amazing if you could make stew this delicious from even rancid water...But this is only practical when you're traveling in numbers, I would think. If you made this all the time while traveling alone, it would surely be a waste of money."
"Right you are. When I was younger and traveling hither and yon with caravans, I often had cooking duties foisted upon me."
Traveling with a large group of merchants was good for business and made for a safer journey. But Piasky's affect had the keen edge of a man well accustomed to traveling alone. The impression Lawrence had immediately gotten from him was that of a solitary merchant scaling a steep cliff.
This was evidently something people often told Piasky. He explained, "Of course, that's all in the past. A group of merchants is after all only a group. It's not a family."
"Whenever a crisis comes, they'll only offer you a helping hand if they've decided there's some profit in it for them."
Piasky's lips twisted. "Quite right," he said with a helpless shrug.
Before he had begun sitting alone in the driver's seat of his cart, Lawrence had occasionally traveled with other merchants, and when business was good, he had stayed with the same group for a while.
As to why he'd stopped doing it—it was probably overstatement to suggest that relationships formed solely for profit were doomed to distort into resentment, but his reason was likely the same as Piasky's.
When his group had been attacked by wolves, they all fled, each praying to God that it would be one of the others who was caught.
And when one of them finally drew the losing lot, Lawrence wondered just how much God's heart was stirred by their desperate cries for help.
"Also, I was well aware that even a group of traveling merchants have no hope against the merchants of a town. So in the end I decided to become the hand of one of those town merchants. I'm less free than I was, but in every town where we have influence, I'm greeted with smiles. It's worthy compensation."
Holo had started drinking her liquor, but surely not because she was full.
Piasky's words had undoubtedly given her much to consider. Anyone who lived a life of travel, even Col, could understand what he was talking about.
"On that count, if you're with the Ruvik Alliance, the compensation would be great indeed."
"Exactly so. And the scale of my business has expanded as well."
"I see. Though it doesn't seem to have dulled your cooking skills a bit...ah, apologies. Your life as a traveler doesn't match your great skill at cooking."
"Ha-ha-ha. I hear that a lot. The truth is I still prepare meals for groups of people while traveling. As I'm doing right now, in fact."
It was said that sightseers flocked to Brondel Abbey. But Piasky's manner didn't suggest that his side business of guiding visitors to the abbey was exactly flourishing. He had introduced himself as a messenger and courier in the employ of the Ruvik Alliance.
Which meant the remaining possibilities were few.
"Heh-heh. Every merchant worth his salt ends up asking me that question, Mr. Lawrence. And I always answer the same way." He smiled cheerfully and then swept his gaze across Holo and Col before continuing theatrically, "My journey's only just begun! I still have plenty of time to think."
A merchant without curiosity was like a clergyman without faith, so such a statement, despite its triviality, was guaranteed to fan Lawrence's interest.
At the very least, thinking it over would be a good way to kill time while on the back of a horse in the freezing silence.
"Incidentally, it's not as though I'm always going to Brondel Abbey."
No doubt these mealtime guessing games were part of Piasky's appeal on the long, boring journeys. His expression made it look as though he was proudly showing off a piece of merchandise, and the audience was certainly taking the bait.

Output:
No doubt this all made Piasky the entertainer very happy.
In contrast to that, it seemed only Lawrence was troubled.
If only an experienced merchant would look at Piasky and ask the same questions Lawrence had, then it would take the same kind of person to be able to answer those questions.
And even if the answer was something that would incite a smile, Piasky would not know what part of it would do so. So for Lawrence, the answer was a bit troubling.
"Well, I can't have you up all night trying to work out the answer. I'll be happy to give it to you whenever you like."
Piasky's insistence was more than enough to deepen the furrows on the brows of Lawrence's two companions.
If Lawrence didn't say something, then there was no telling how long the two of them would be agonizing over it.
"Besides, thinking it over will only empty your stomach, and finding the answer won't fill it back up again."
The prospect of a hungry journey worked quite well to snap them out of their reverie, and the two resumed eating.
Lawrence met Piasky's eyes and smiled slightly. After all, a pleasant meal was always welcome.
"Would that Brondel Abbey were at the edge of the world."
"Even I don't have that many riddles."
That evening, they laughed, ate, and drank into the night.
The next day saw large puffs of snowflakes falling.
Mercifully there was no wind, but with heavy snowfall of flakes as big as a thumbnail, visibility was extremely poor.
With their hoods pulled down nearly over their eyes, their white breath fogged up what little was left of their fields of view.
And yet it was far from rare to find a crusty old merchant with failing eyes who nonetheless had a perfect grasp of the complicated web of trade routes he used. So it was with their packhorse driver, a man who had been plying these roads for forty years, and for whom the current poor visibility was barely worthy of mention. The taciturn horseman led the cart horse out of the way station and out across the white plains, his gait sure.
As even a brief stop would result in them becoming quickly covered by snow, there was no rest in the march.
But the white scenery was so ceaselessly monotonous that after taking a brief lunch atop the horse, Col dozed off.
A horse's back was still a good distance from the ground. If Col fell, he risked serious injury, so Lawrence took out some hemp rope he had prepared just in case and started to loop it around Holo and Col both when he noticed something.
Holo, who he had assumed was long since asleep, was actually awake and holding Col securely in her arms.
"Oh, you're awake."
The snow deadened sound as well as hurting visibility. Despite the silence, Lawrence could barely hear his own voice. Their conversation would be inaudible to Piasky, who was behind them on another horse.
"I am not," came the hazy reply, which Lawrence very nearly laughed at in spite of himself.
But he knew perfectly well that her answer came from her irritation at Piasky's riddle the previous evening.
It was not something one could simply reason their way through, and even a merchant might not have been able to guess it, depending on the circumstances.
Col had quickly given up and gone to bed, but Holo the Wisewolf seemed to feel obligated to think about it longer.
Yet it was ridiculous to spend all night agonizing over even a great riddle, to say nothing of such a trivial dinnertime puzzle. And not finding the answer was only more frustrating.
Holo's childish irritation would usually drive her to steal meaningful glances in Lawrence's direction, of which he was well aware.
"What? You don't see the answer?" He would laugh, and a pouting Holo would hastily tell him what it was.
That was their usual routine.
But Lawrence had not done that.
He had hoped that Holo would forget about the question entirely. The riddle's answer made him a bit anxious.


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

Input:
No doubt this all made Piasky the entertainer very happy.
In contrast to that, it seemed only Lawrence was troubled.
If only an experienced merchant would look at Piasky and ask the same questions Lawrence had, then it would take the same kind of person to be able to answer those questions.
And even if the answer was something that would incite a smile, Piasky would not know what part of it would do so. So for Lawrence, the answer was a bit troubling.
"Well, I can't have you up all night trying to work out the answer. I'll be happy to give it to you whenever you like."
Piasky's insistence was more than enough to deepen the furrows on the brows of Lawrence's two companions.
If Lawrence didn't say something, then there was no telling how long the two of them would be agonizing over it.
"Besides, thinking it over will only empty your stomach, and finding the answer won't fill it back up again."
The prospect of a hungry journey worked quite well to snap them out of their reverie, and the two resumed eating.
Lawrence met Piasky's eyes and smiled slightly. After all, a pleasant meal was always welcome.
"Would that Brondel Abbey were at the edge of the world."
"Even I don't have that many riddles."
That evening, they laughed, ate, and drank into the night.
The next day saw large puffs of snowflakes falling.
Mercifully there was no wind, but with heavy snowfall of flakes as big as a thumbnail, visibility was extremely poor.
With their hoods pulled down nearly over their eyes, their white breath fogged up what little was left of their fields of view.
And yet it was far from rare to find a crusty old merchant with failing eyes who nonetheless had a perfect grasp of the complicated web of trade routes he used. So it was with their packhorse driver, a man who had been plying these roads for forty years, and for whom the current poor visibility was barely worthy of mention. The taciturn horseman led the cart horse out of the way station and out across the white plains, his gait sure.
As even a brief stop would result in them becoming quickly covered by snow, there was no rest in the march.
But the white scenery was so ceaselessly monotonous that after taking a brief lunch atop the horse, Col dozed off.
A horse's back was still a good distance from the ground. If Col fell, he risked serious injury, so Lawrence took out some hemp rope he had prepared just in case and started to loop it around Holo and Col both when he noticed something.
Holo, who he had assumed was long since asleep, was actually awake and holding Col securely in her arms.
"Oh, you're awake."
The snow deadened sound as well as hurting visibility. Despite the silence, Lawrence could barely hear his own voice. Their conversation would be inaudible to Piasky, who was behind them on another horse.
"I am not," came the hazy reply, which Lawrence very nearly laughed at in spite of himself.
But he knew perfectly well that her answer came from her irritation at Piasky's riddle the previous evening.
It was not something one could simply reason their way through, and even a merchant might not have been able to guess it, depending on the circumstances.
Col had quickly given up and gone to bed, but Holo the Wisewolf seemed to feel obligated to think about it longer.
Yet it was ridiculous to spend all night agonizing over even a great riddle, to say nothing of such a trivial dinnertime puzzle. And not finding the answer was only more frustrating.
Holo's childish irritation would usually drive her to steal meaningful glances in Lawrence's direction, of which he was well aware.
"What? You don't see the answer?" He would laugh, and a pouting Holo would hastily tell him what it was.
That was their usual routine.
But Lawrence had not done that.
He had hoped that Holo would forget about the question entirely. The riddle's answer made him a bit anxious.

Output:
It was harder than ever to tell her the answer.
And so it had gone, right up until the present moment.
Lawrence should have told her the answer right away, but it was too late for such regrets.
"So that's how it is."
The second time Holo spoke that day, what came out of her mouth was a lengthy, irritated sigh of a long and rambling speech, which she wrapped up with these final words.
Col listened, his face blank with astonishment, as he busied himself by hanging their traveling clothes up to dry on a leather cord.
After dinner, just when they'd noticed that Holo had disappeared for a while, she returned to the room and immediately dove into her speech, so Col's reaction was entirely understandable.
For Lawrence's part, he was simply impressed that she'd managed to work it out.
"You're exactly right."
"You fool!"
Lawrence had no excuse to give and could only reply honestly, which earned him an equally honest curse from Holo.
And yet seeing Lawrence look so foolish seemed to take the wind out of Holo's anger's sails.
She sat and asked Col to bring her wine, rudely pulled the cork out with her teeth, and put the contents to her lips.
"Your strange manner made me want to know the answer that much more. And to think..."
"So you went and asked?" Not long ago, Col would have trembled in terror at Holo's anger, but now he was bold enough to venture the question.
"Aye. I went and told him it had kept me up and got laughed at for my trouble. Me—Holo the Wisewolf!"
"I learned at school that there are things you can't learn without asking. But what was the answer?"
Col continued to hang their clothes as he asked the question. Holo did not answer immediately, instead directing her gaze at Lawrence.
"It's too much trouble to explain. You do it," her gaze seemed to say.
Which was probably true.
With a bottle of strong wine in one hand, Holo bit into a piece of jerky.
"A man like Piasky, who's used to traveling alone but also skilled at cooking meals for many people, is quite rare. He must be involved in establishing new towns or marketplaces. When he talked about guiding large groups of people, those people are probably on their way to start new lives in a new place."
"Ooh..."
Despite listening to Lawrence with an impressed expression, Col adroitly finished attending to the drying and then checked in on the sunken hearth in the middle of the room.
There was no fireplace, nor did the room have good circulation, so managing the fire was quite difficult.
"Essentially, the people he's guiding aren't used to traveling. So without the ability to fully equip them all, as well as quickly solve whatever problems arise, he wouldn't be able to do his job."
"In truth, I've led a pack myself, and he looks to be a fine, reliable male. He speaks his mind and speaks it cleverly." Holo glared at Lawrence with half-lidded eyes.
Lawrence coughed. Col smiled nervously and continued.
"So he does a rather uncommon job, then. But then..."
Why was Mr. Lawrence trying to hide the answer to the riddle from Miss Holo?
The question in his eyes was obvious as he looked at Lawrence.
There was nothing so embarrassing as having to admit he had been too worried. But if he didn't accept his punishment, it seemed unlikely that Holo would forgive him.
Of course, he begged forgiveness every single time Holo was angry at him. He could hardly call himself a proper merchant, but here in this room, where the fire had to be kept small lest it fill the space with smoke, the warmth of Holo's tail would be very important during the night.
A merchant had to be able to weigh profit and loss.
"Piasky's job is helping colonists. If he's being helped by a king or the nobility, it's to increase the land they control. If he's backed by the Church, it's to spread their faith. In any case, there are many reasons, but they all have one thing in common. If the colonists arrive at their new land and manage to become established there, it will become their new homeland."
"Ah..."


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

Input:
It was harder than ever to tell her the answer.
And so it had gone, right up until the present moment.
Lawrence should have told her the answer right away, but it was too late for such regrets.
"So that's how it is."
The second time Holo spoke that day, what came out of her mouth was a lengthy, irritated sigh of a long and rambling speech, which she wrapped up with these final words.
Col listened, his face blank with astonishment, as he busied himself by hanging their traveling clothes up to dry on a leather cord.
After dinner, just when they'd noticed that Holo had disappeared for a while, she returned to the room and immediately dove into her speech, so Col's reaction was entirely understandable.
For Lawrence's part, he was simply impressed that she'd managed to work it out.
"You're exactly right."
"You fool!"
Lawrence had no excuse to give and could only reply honestly, which earned him an equally honest curse from Holo.
And yet seeing Lawrence look so foolish seemed to take the wind out of Holo's anger's sails.
She sat and asked Col to bring her wine, rudely pulled the cork out with her teeth, and put the contents to her lips.
"Your strange manner made me want to know the answer that much more. And to think..."
"So you went and asked?" Not long ago, Col would have trembled in terror at Holo's anger, but now he was bold enough to venture the question.
"Aye. I went and told him it had kept me up and got laughed at for my trouble. Me—Holo the Wisewolf!"
"I learned at school that there are things you can't learn without asking. But what was the answer?"
Col continued to hang their clothes as he asked the question. Holo did not answer immediately, instead directing her gaze at Lawrence.
"It's too much trouble to explain. You do it," her gaze seemed to say.
Which was probably true.
With a bottle of strong wine in one hand, Holo bit into a piece of jerky.
"A man like Piasky, who's used to traveling alone but also skilled at cooking meals for many people, is quite rare. He must be involved in establishing new towns or marketplaces. When he talked about guiding large groups of people, those people are probably on their way to start new lives in a new place."
"Ooh..."
Despite listening to Lawrence with an impressed expression, Col adroitly finished attending to the drying and then checked in on the sunken hearth in the middle of the room.
There was no fireplace, nor did the room have good circulation, so managing the fire was quite difficult.
"Essentially, the people he's guiding aren't used to traveling. So without the ability to fully equip them all, as well as quickly solve whatever problems arise, he wouldn't be able to do his job."
"In truth, I've led a pack myself, and he looks to be a fine, reliable male. He speaks his mind and speaks it cleverly." Holo glared at Lawrence with half-lidded eyes.
Lawrence coughed. Col smiled nervously and continued.
"So he does a rather uncommon job, then. But then..."
Why was Mr. Lawrence trying to hide the answer to the riddle from Miss Holo?
The question in his eyes was obvious as he looked at Lawrence.
There was nothing so embarrassing as having to admit he had been too worried. But if he didn't accept his punishment, it seemed unlikely that Holo would forgive him.
Of course, he begged forgiveness every single time Holo was angry at him. He could hardly call himself a proper merchant, but here in this room, where the fire had to be kept small lest it fill the space with smoke, the warmth of Holo's tail would be very important during the night.
A merchant had to be able to weigh profit and loss.
"Piasky's job is helping colonists. If he's being helped by a king or the nobility, it's to increase the land they control. If he's backed by the Church, it's to spread their faith. In any case, there are many reasons, but they all have one thing in common. If the colonists arrive at their new land and manage to become established there, it will become their new homeland."
"Ah..."

Output:
Lawrence looked at Holo before continuing.
"—That's why I was hoping you'd forget the matter."
"Hmph." Holo turned away in irritation, tossing a piece of skin she had torn free of the jerky into the fire. This sent a puff of ash up, which Col followed with his eyes as though witnessing something magical. "'Tis not our way to find a new homeland. Our home is our home. What's important is not who's there, but where the land itself is. And anyway, I'll bet you were just worried I'd say something like this, aye?"
They had argued countless times.
She had seen right through Lawrence's thinking.
"Could you please find a homeland for me, as well?" she finished, her eyes coquettishly upturned.
Surprised, Col watched the entire exchange.
Lawrence could tell she was angry.
But he also knew her anger was that of a cat who had been fussed over too much and was now holding out a threatening claw.
"Males are such fools!"
"...I cannot argue with that."
"Honestly," Holo spat and then drank her wine.
At a loss, Lawrence brushed his hair aside—this, too, was just as it always was.
Once Col laughed at them in amusement, the ritual was complete.
Holo's tail swished to and fro. Tomorrow would be another early morning.
"I grow weary from anger. To bed with me."
Her skill as a pack leader was impressive, indeed.
In the end, they arrived at Brondel Abbey around midday of the third day.
Perhaps by the grace of God, only the second day had seen heavy snowfall. They passed easily through the checkpoint into the merchants' quarter, which was not necessarily something to be pleased about.
The high walls that enclosed the space were what one would expect of an abbey, but upon entering the gate, the atmosphere was that of a town inhabited only by merchants.
It was enough to make Holo quip, "You should drop a copper coin and see what happens," from atop their horse.
No doubt it would immediately bring all eyes upon them, like a sneeze during the prayer in a church service.
"It's quite possible there's nothing that can't be bought here," said Piasky mischievously, riding his horse alongside them.
Lawrence smiled at that but wondered privately if it might not actually be true.
The center of the street had been somehow cleared of snow, but it was flanked on both sides by piles of the stuff, and unsurprisingly the air around them was as cold as an ice cave. There were even parts of the horse's mane that had frozen.
Despite the cold, merchants were everywhere, arms crossed across their bodies as they each talked up their businesses. Somehow they seemed to be genuinely enjoying themselves, even stomping their feet to ward off the cold, unable to resist smiling like children.
"Now, then, if you'll wait here, I'll make arrangements for your room."
"I shall leave it to you."
Piasky tied Lawrence's horse up at a public stable, then dismounted his own steed and trotted off.
Mounting and dismounting a horse took a certain amount of skill, and all the more so when one's body was stiff from cold. Lawrence was the first to climb down, and then he took Holo and then Col in his arms as he helped them off.
Once everyone was on the ground, Lawrence thanked the driver for a safe journey.
The man remained as silent and taciturn as ever, but crossed his arms lightly over his chest and gave a bow in a polite gesture of parting, every bit the image of a devout northerner.
"Still, this place is rather large, is it not? From what you were saying, I thought 'twould be smaller and at more of a remove."
"I only knew it by reputation. But I know it's the place where it's said enough wool to fill the straits of Winfiel is traded. Look there—they even have glass windows."
There, under a lead-gray sky, from which a snowflake occasionally fell as though it had suddenly remembered to fall, were grand three-story buildings of stone with top-floor windows that reflected the sky's color.


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

Input:
Lawrence looked at Holo before continuing.
"—That's why I was hoping you'd forget the matter."
"Hmph." Holo turned away in irritation, tossing a piece of skin she had torn free of the jerky into the fire. This sent a puff of ash up, which Col followed with his eyes as though witnessing something magical. "'Tis not our way to find a new homeland. Our home is our home. What's important is not who's there, but where the land itself is. And anyway, I'll bet you were just worried I'd say something like this, aye?"
They had argued countless times.
She had seen right through Lawrence's thinking.
"Could you please find a homeland for me, as well?" she finished, her eyes coquettishly upturned.
Surprised, Col watched the entire exchange.
Lawrence could tell she was angry.
But he also knew her anger was that of a cat who had been fussed over too much and was now holding out a threatening claw.
"Males are such fools!"
"...I cannot argue with that."
"Honestly," Holo spat and then drank her wine.
At a loss, Lawrence brushed his hair aside—this, too, was just as it always was.
Once Col laughed at them in amusement, the ritual was complete.
Holo's tail swished to and fro. Tomorrow would be another early morning.
"I grow weary from anger. To bed with me."
Her skill as a pack leader was impressive, indeed.
In the end, they arrived at Brondel Abbey around midday of the third day.
Perhaps by the grace of God, only the second day had seen heavy snowfall. They passed easily through the checkpoint into the merchants' quarter, which was not necessarily something to be pleased about.
The high walls that enclosed the space were what one would expect of an abbey, but upon entering the gate, the atmosphere was that of a town inhabited only by merchants.
It was enough to make Holo quip, "You should drop a copper coin and see what happens," from atop their horse.
No doubt it would immediately bring all eyes upon them, like a sneeze during the prayer in a church service.
"It's quite possible there's nothing that can't be bought here," said Piasky mischievously, riding his horse alongside them.
Lawrence smiled at that but wondered privately if it might not actually be true.
The center of the street had been somehow cleared of snow, but it was flanked on both sides by piles of the stuff, and unsurprisingly the air around them was as cold as an ice cave. There were even parts of the horse's mane that had frozen.
Despite the cold, merchants were everywhere, arms crossed across their bodies as they each talked up their businesses. Somehow they seemed to be genuinely enjoying themselves, even stomping their feet to ward off the cold, unable to resist smiling like children.
"Now, then, if you'll wait here, I'll make arrangements for your room."
"I shall leave it to you."
Piasky tied Lawrence's horse up at a public stable, then dismounted his own steed and trotted off.
Mounting and dismounting a horse took a certain amount of skill, and all the more so when one's body was stiff from cold. Lawrence was the first to climb down, and then he took Holo and then Col in his arms as he helped them off.
Once everyone was on the ground, Lawrence thanked the driver for a safe journey.
The man remained as silent and taciturn as ever, but crossed his arms lightly over his chest and gave a bow in a polite gesture of parting, every bit the image of a devout northerner.
"Still, this place is rather large, is it not? From what you were saying, I thought 'twould be smaller and at more of a remove."
"I only knew it by reputation. But I know it's the place where it's said enough wool to fill the straits of Winfiel is traded. Look there—they even have glass windows."
There, under a lead-gray sky, from which a snowflake occasionally fell as though it had suddenly remembered to fall, were grand three-story buildings of stone with top-floor windows that reflected the sky's color.

Output:
But they were not the only things at the site. There were large public stables, and across from them was a great barn exclusively for sheep. It seemed fully large enough, but Piasky had said there were many more like it.
"Mm. 'Tis quite a feat to build such things out here in the snow." Holo grinned boldly and looked ahead.
There lay the merchant annex to the great abbey of Brondel. While it might well have been merely an annex situated a horse's ride away from the abbey proper, it in no way hurt the majesty of the latter.
At the end of the road that led from the annex's entrance stood a building with a weighty majesty that was greater than any of the others nearby.
Hanging within a steeple so tall it seemed to reach to the heavens themselves was a great bell, larger than even ten horses could hope to move. This was a sanctuary that had been built to bring peace to the souls of merchants. And doubtless it did exactly that.
Although that did come with a sense of overwhelming pressure.
"There's something that I learned in school."
"Oh?"
"That clergy from the northlands are the best at questioning heretics."
Lawrence understood Col all too well. Inquisitors had no mercy. A place like this was indeed well suited to the bearded servants of God, with their eyes as cold and pitiless as hawks'.
"Still, that was long ago, was it not?" Holo's gaze was fixed upon a monk wrapped in more wool than the sheep, chatting happily with a group of merchants as he led them out of the building.
His face was ruddy and his cheeks plump—a far cry from the virtues of obedience, purity, and honorable poverty.
Holo looked at Lawrence and spoke. "Certainly—we live in a time when even you can come on pilgrimage."
Holo smiled a bold, fearless smile that teetered right on the edge of outright laughter.
"...Still, I'm a bit worried," Lawrence said as he looked at the breath that rose whitely as he exhaled, then cast his gaze across their surroundings.
A kick from Holo brought him back to himself, and looking at her angry eyes, he realized he had been misunderstood.
"Ah, sorry, I should've explained better. I wasn't talking about you." She continued to regard him with suspicion so Lawrence elaborated. "I'm a bit worried that there are too many people here."
"Er, do you mean..." It was Col who spoke up.
Given the way he had been gazing curiously around at the scene, it was quite possible he had come to the same conclusion as Lawrence.
"There are too many people for grounds of this size. No matter how grand the buildings might be, a bunch of arrogant merchants and monks with no patience for cramped conditions will never be satisfied with such confined space."
"Do you mean to say there may be no lodging for us?"
If this was meant to be a place to conduct business negotiations, it would have to have places to store contracts, as well as places to discuss the contents of those contracts. This meant office space and workers to maintain the upkeep of such space. Cooks and food staff would be necessary, too, and the higher the status of the merchants that visited, the larger their entourage would be.
Lawrence doubted that his bad feeling was merely pessimism inspired by the poor weather. It was all too easy to think such things before a monastery devoted to prayer to God.
Lawrence and his companions continued to look around dubiously, and soon there appeared Piasky, trotting out of one of the buildings with—just as Lawrence expected—a concerned expression on his face.
Just as one would expect of a merchant whose swiftness of foot outstripped his skill at negotiation, Piasky immediately cut to the heart of the matter. "I'm very sorry. There are too many people, and I was unable to secure a room."
Despite having anticipated this, Lawrence was not immediately sure how to respond. As he struggled for an answer, Piasky continued.
"You might be able to sleep alongside others in one of the larger rooms..." His words trailed off as his gaze fell upon Holo.


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

Input:
But they were not the only things at the site. There were large public stables, and across from them was a great barn exclusively for sheep. It seemed fully large enough, but Piasky had said there were many more like it.
"Mm. 'Tis quite a feat to build such things out here in the snow." Holo grinned boldly and looked ahead.
There lay the merchant annex to the great abbey of Brondel. While it might well have been merely an annex situated a horse's ride away from the abbey proper, it in no way hurt the majesty of the latter.
At the end of the road that led from the annex's entrance stood a building with a weighty majesty that was greater than any of the others nearby.
Hanging within a steeple so tall it seemed to reach to the heavens themselves was a great bell, larger than even ten horses could hope to move. This was a sanctuary that had been built to bring peace to the souls of merchants. And doubtless it did exactly that.
Although that did come with a sense of overwhelming pressure.
"There's something that I learned in school."
"Oh?"
"That clergy from the northlands are the best at questioning heretics."
Lawrence understood Col all too well. Inquisitors had no mercy. A place like this was indeed well suited to the bearded servants of God, with their eyes as cold and pitiless as hawks'.
"Still, that was long ago, was it not?" Holo's gaze was fixed upon a monk wrapped in more wool than the sheep, chatting happily with a group of merchants as he led them out of the building.
His face was ruddy and his cheeks plump—a far cry from the virtues of obedience, purity, and honorable poverty.
Holo looked at Lawrence and spoke. "Certainly—we live in a time when even you can come on pilgrimage."
Holo smiled a bold, fearless smile that teetered right on the edge of outright laughter.
"...Still, I'm a bit worried," Lawrence said as he looked at the breath that rose whitely as he exhaled, then cast his gaze across their surroundings.
A kick from Holo brought him back to himself, and looking at her angry eyes, he realized he had been misunderstood.
"Ah, sorry, I should've explained better. I wasn't talking about you." She continued to regard him with suspicion so Lawrence elaborated. "I'm a bit worried that there are too many people here."
"Er, do you mean..." It was Col who spoke up.
Given the way he had been gazing curiously around at the scene, it was quite possible he had come to the same conclusion as Lawrence.
"There are too many people for grounds of this size. No matter how grand the buildings might be, a bunch of arrogant merchants and monks with no patience for cramped conditions will never be satisfied with such confined space."
"Do you mean to say there may be no lodging for us?"
If this was meant to be a place to conduct business negotiations, it would have to have places to store contracts, as well as places to discuss the contents of those contracts. This meant office space and workers to maintain the upkeep of such space. Cooks and food staff would be necessary, too, and the higher the status of the merchants that visited, the larger their entourage would be.
Lawrence doubted that his bad feeling was merely pessimism inspired by the poor weather. It was all too easy to think such things before a monastery devoted to prayer to God.
Lawrence and his companions continued to look around dubiously, and soon there appeared Piasky, trotting out of one of the buildings with—just as Lawrence expected—a concerned expression on his face.
Just as one would expect of a merchant whose swiftness of foot outstripped his skill at negotiation, Piasky immediately cut to the heart of the matter. "I'm very sorry. There are too many people, and I was unable to secure a room."
Despite having anticipated this, Lawrence was not immediately sure how to respond. As he struggled for an answer, Piasky continued.
"You might be able to sleep alongside others in one of the larger rooms..." His words trailed off as his gaze fell upon Holo.

Output:
"Alternatively, we might be able to find you an earthen-floor room to rent...but in weather like this, that wouldn't be terribly different from making camp. Ah, what a bother. Apparently over the last couple of days, there's been a surge of people."
"What about stables?"
"They're full all the way to the haylofts. In this time of year, they're even warmer than the inn rooms, after all. And I don't even have to mention the wool storehouses."
Piasky's face fell into deep contemplation, as though he were leading travelers along a road that had been blocked by a landslide and was now impassable.
His concern seemed to be genuine rather than for show. Lawrence could see why Holo had approved of him.
But that did not mean he would be able to fix their situation.
If they were to end up staying in a stone building with an earthen floor, they would need to secure bedding.
Lawrence was about to say so, but before he could, the surroundings seemed to erupt in a great commotion—although upon a second look, it was coming from a particular direction.
"Ho, the White Army returns!" shouted one of the merchants among the many in the street. Lawrence looked in the direction of the noise, and as his line of sight fell upon the entrance to the annex, he understood what the shout meant.
With a low rumble that seemed to shake the ground, a wave of sheep flowed in. Not even a fully armed mercenary band could hold its ground against such a flood.
As the sheep passed through the flung-open gates, they were soon herded by dog and spear into the many barns set aside for them.
Shortly thereafter, there could be heard the bells that so often rang out across the plains as a quartet of shepherds passed through the gates and entered the town. Here they were not loathed as in Ruvinheigen, and the merchants who knew them greeted them happily, petting the heads of the sheepdogs and thanking them for a day's work well done.
The shepherds were certainly a scruffy group. And yet looking at their nonetheless dignified forms, Lawrence couldn't help but think if Norah the shepherdess could find employ in a place like this, she might not suffer so.
"'Tis all too clear what you're thinking about."
At Holo's sudden words, Lawrence snapped back to reality. As he flinched and looked over at her, it was all too clear just who the sheep was.
But Holo seemed to be satisfied with his pathetic reaction, so rather than press her advantage, she spoke with a quiet expression. "Fate is truly a force in the world. The world is too complicated for all to come easily."
"...You're right about that." Any number of their adventures thus far served as evidence.
As they spoke quietly, Lawrence suddenly felt someone's gaze upon him, and he looked up. His eyes fell upon the gates through which the flood of sheep had just finished passing.
With the sheep now inside, the gates were being closed, and calm was beginning to return.
But the shepherds remained.
Lawrence got the feeling that one of them, an old man, was looking at them.
"Scriveners' rooms...no, no...perhaps the storage room at the far end of the hall...or—hmm?" Piasky continued to mull over the problem of Lawrence and his companions' lodgings, but he saw Lawrence's curious look, at which he stopped.
After looking toward the shepherds briefly, he clapped his hands. "That's it. There might be some vacancies in the shepherds' quarters. I've heard they're less busy in the winter—just let me go ask and see."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Piasky ran off.
It was possible that the shepherd Lawrence thought was looking at them had instead been looking past them at the sanctuary. Just as he revised his thinking, Holo glared suspiciously at the shepherds.
"One of those had his eye on us just now."
"I wondered."
Only Col seemed surprised by this, and he looked around nervously.
It was not surprising for unfriendly towns or villages to treat travelers with hostility, but that was not what Lawrence sensed.


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

Input:
"Alternatively, we might be able to find you an earthen-floor room to rent...but in weather like this, that wouldn't be terribly different from making camp. Ah, what a bother. Apparently over the last couple of days, there's been a surge of people."
"What about stables?"
"They're full all the way to the haylofts. In this time of year, they're even warmer than the inn rooms, after all. And I don't even have to mention the wool storehouses."
Piasky's face fell into deep contemplation, as though he were leading travelers along a road that had been blocked by a landslide and was now impassable.
His concern seemed to be genuine rather than for show. Lawrence could see why Holo had approved of him.
But that did not mean he would be able to fix their situation.
If they were to end up staying in a stone building with an earthen floor, they would need to secure bedding.
Lawrence was about to say so, but before he could, the surroundings seemed to erupt in a great commotion—although upon a second look, it was coming from a particular direction.
"Ho, the White Army returns!" shouted one of the merchants among the many in the street. Lawrence looked in the direction of the noise, and as his line of sight fell upon the entrance to the annex, he understood what the shout meant.
With a low rumble that seemed to shake the ground, a wave of sheep flowed in. Not even a fully armed mercenary band could hold its ground against such a flood.
As the sheep passed through the flung-open gates, they were soon herded by dog and spear into the many barns set aside for them.
Shortly thereafter, there could be heard the bells that so often rang out across the plains as a quartet of shepherds passed through the gates and entered the town. Here they were not loathed as in Ruvinheigen, and the merchants who knew them greeted them happily, petting the heads of the sheepdogs and thanking them for a day's work well done.
The shepherds were certainly a scruffy group. And yet looking at their nonetheless dignified forms, Lawrence couldn't help but think if Norah the shepherdess could find employ in a place like this, she might not suffer so.
"'Tis all too clear what you're thinking about."
At Holo's sudden words, Lawrence snapped back to reality. As he flinched and looked over at her, it was all too clear just who the sheep was.
But Holo seemed to be satisfied with his pathetic reaction, so rather than press her advantage, she spoke with a quiet expression. "Fate is truly a force in the world. The world is too complicated for all to come easily."
"...You're right about that." Any number of their adventures thus far served as evidence.
As they spoke quietly, Lawrence suddenly felt someone's gaze upon him, and he looked up. His eyes fell upon the gates through which the flood of sheep had just finished passing.
With the sheep now inside, the gates were being closed, and calm was beginning to return.
But the shepherds remained.
Lawrence got the feeling that one of them, an old man, was looking at them.
"Scriveners' rooms...no, no...perhaps the storage room at the far end of the hall...or—hmm?" Piasky continued to mull over the problem of Lawrence and his companions' lodgings, but he saw Lawrence's curious look, at which he stopped.
After looking toward the shepherds briefly, he clapped his hands. "That's it. There might be some vacancies in the shepherds' quarters. I've heard they're less busy in the winter—just let me go ask and see."
No sooner had he finished speaking than Piasky ran off.
It was possible that the shepherd Lawrence thought was looking at them had instead been looking past them at the sanctuary. Just as he revised his thinking, Holo glared suspiciously at the shepherds.
"One of those had his eye on us just now."
"I wondered."
Only Col seemed surprised by this, and he looked around nervously.
It was not surprising for unfriendly towns or villages to treat travelers with hostility, but that was not what Lawrence sensed.

Output:
"Aye...he was indeed surprised."
"I assume you didn't show your ears or tail," Lawrence said jokingly.
At this Holo drew her chin in and replied with eyes half lidded from boredom. "'Tis not as though there's aught here to make my heart race. My ears and tail are lifeless beneath my robe."
"That's good. I prefer a modest girl."
Holo stomped on Lawrence's foot, and Col turned away, trying to hide his laughter.
Piasky seemed to have successfully negotiated something during the trio's third-rate sideshow. He turned toward them and waved happily in their direction.
"Will you be all right staying in the shepherds' quarters?" Lawrence asked Holo.
"You said you preferred a modest girl, didn't you?"
Lawrence was not worried that she would wither in front of the shepherds as much as he was concerned that her dislike of them would spoil her mood, but she coolly brushed the question off.
And no doubt she would be fine as promised. Holo was not a child after all.
"Well, then, I'd say that's our best choice," said Lawrence, returning Piasky's wave.
But then, to Lawrence's surprise, Piasky exchanged a handshake with the very same old shepherd they had been discussing before.
Evidently the shepherds of the great abbey of Brondel, who still told tales of the golden sheep, would be sharing their lodgings with the Wisewolf of Yoitsu, guardian of the wheat harvest.
Perhaps the world was a more peaceful place than it seemed after all.
"Huskins."
Owing to the sound of their bags hitting the floor, Lawrence nearly missed the man's introduction. Once he realized what it was, he hastily extended his right hand in greeting.
"Kraft Lawrence."
***
As he shook hands with Huskins, who stood in the doorway, he noticed the man's hands were as tough as sheep hooves.
"This is Holo. And that's Col. Strange circumstances have led to them traveling with me."
"Pleased to meet you," said Holo.
"And I'm very pleased to meet you, as well," said Col.
As he shook hands with each of them, Huskins the shepherd ultimately said nothing more than his own name.
His hair was the color of hay and snow, with long eyebrows and a beard that nearly reached his chest. He was built solidly, his back not hunched nor his body underfed. The corners of his eyes were deeply wrinkled, and his gray eyes shone as though gazing at a far-off horizon. While surely past his agile years, his movements had a peculiar strength to them and made one think of a wily old ram.
A true herdsman who wandered the plains. A keen-eyed shepherd. There were any number of ways to describe him.
Huskins was such a man, a venerable shepherd whose age gave him a certain aura.
"Thank you so much for this. You've truly helped us."
As Piasky would have it, the shepherds that lived here with Huskins only returned once every few years. As long as Lawrence and his companions were willing to attend to their own meals, they could use the vacant rooms.
Of course, not being an inn, each room did not have its own fireplace—there was a sunken brick hearth shared among the rooms, but even that was far better than sleeping alongside strangers or on a dirt floor in a stone building.
"I'll tend the fire. Aside from that, you're free to do as you will."
It was said that after tending to their vast flocks, enduring harsh conditions day in and day out, shepherds were saintlier than actual saints—and Huskins certainly seemed so.
He did not seem inclined to respond to small talk, nor did he evidently wish to.
Lawrence nodded at what he was told and asked no further questions.
Huskins wordlessly looked the trio over for a moment, gave a brief nod, and then walked back to the room with the hearth.
"Is he a Church scholar?" Col asked quietly as Huskins's footsteps faded away.
It was not unreasonable to think so. Even Lawrence found it easy to imagine himself asking Huskins's advice in times of trouble.
"He does seem like a sort of wilderness wise man, doesn't he?"


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

Input:
"Aye...he was indeed surprised."
"I assume you didn't show your ears or tail," Lawrence said jokingly.
At this Holo drew her chin in and replied with eyes half lidded from boredom. "'Tis not as though there's aught here to make my heart race. My ears and tail are lifeless beneath my robe."
"That's good. I prefer a modest girl."
Holo stomped on Lawrence's foot, and Col turned away, trying to hide his laughter.
Piasky seemed to have successfully negotiated something during the trio's third-rate sideshow. He turned toward them and waved happily in their direction.
"Will you be all right staying in the shepherds' quarters?" Lawrence asked Holo.
"You said you preferred a modest girl, didn't you?"
Lawrence was not worried that she would wither in front of the shepherds as much as he was concerned that her dislike of them would spoil her mood, but she coolly brushed the question off.
And no doubt she would be fine as promised. Holo was not a child after all.
"Well, then, I'd say that's our best choice," said Lawrence, returning Piasky's wave.
But then, to Lawrence's surprise, Piasky exchanged a handshake with the very same old shepherd they had been discussing before.
Evidently the shepherds of the great abbey of Brondel, who still told tales of the golden sheep, would be sharing their lodgings with the Wisewolf of Yoitsu, guardian of the wheat harvest.
Perhaps the world was a more peaceful place than it seemed after all.
"Huskins."
Owing to the sound of their bags hitting the floor, Lawrence nearly missed the man's introduction. Once he realized what it was, he hastily extended his right hand in greeting.
"Kraft Lawrence."
***
As he shook hands with Huskins, who stood in the doorway, he noticed the man's hands were as tough as sheep hooves.
"This is Holo. And that's Col. Strange circumstances have led to them traveling with me."
"Pleased to meet you," said Holo.
"And I'm very pleased to meet you, as well," said Col.
As he shook hands with each of them, Huskins the shepherd ultimately said nothing more than his own name.
His hair was the color of hay and snow, with long eyebrows and a beard that nearly reached his chest. He was built solidly, his back not hunched nor his body underfed. The corners of his eyes were deeply wrinkled, and his gray eyes shone as though gazing at a far-off horizon. While surely past his agile years, his movements had a peculiar strength to them and made one think of a wily old ram.
A true herdsman who wandered the plains. A keen-eyed shepherd. There were any number of ways to describe him.
Huskins was such a man, a venerable shepherd whose age gave him a certain aura.
"Thank you so much for this. You've truly helped us."
As Piasky would have it, the shepherds that lived here with Huskins only returned once every few years. As long as Lawrence and his companions were willing to attend to their own meals, they could use the vacant rooms.
Of course, not being an inn, each room did not have its own fireplace—there was a sunken brick hearth shared among the rooms, but even that was far better than sleeping alongside strangers or on a dirt floor in a stone building.
"I'll tend the fire. Aside from that, you're free to do as you will."
It was said that after tending to their vast flocks, enduring harsh conditions day in and day out, shepherds were saintlier than actual saints—and Huskins certainly seemed so.
He did not seem inclined to respond to small talk, nor did he evidently wish to.
Lawrence nodded at what he was told and asked no further questions.
Huskins wordlessly looked the trio over for a moment, gave a brief nod, and then walked back to the room with the hearth.
"Is he a Church scholar?" Col asked quietly as Huskins's footsteps faded away.
It was not unreasonable to think so. Even Lawrence found it easy to imagine himself asking Huskins's advice in times of trouble.
"He does seem like a sort of wilderness wise man, doesn't he?"

Output:
"We've more leftovers than I thought. With this much, it should last us a while, even counting for Huskins's portion. And if we run low, we're surrounded by merchants, so it'll hardly be a problem."
"Yes, only the well was very crowded, so water might be a problem."
That was Col—always keeping his eyes open.
When traveling without money, finding water was the highest priority.
Even a little food could be stretched to last a week, but it was not so with water.
"Should we go draw some now maybe?" Col asked.
"Perhaps...yes, go ahead and do that. We'll need it at dinner, and it's possible the well will freeze during the night."
"Right!"
Col seemed to feel most at ease when he had been given a task to complete. He gave his cheerful reply and then took a bucket and water skin before going back out into the cold.
Lawrence next addressed Holo, who quite unlike the industrious Col was lying back on a straw bed, popping dried raspberries into her mouth.
"It wasn't long ago that I would've greeted the sight of you there with sarcasm and gotten your rage in return," said Lawrence.
Holo also needed to feel useful, but unlike Col, she did not show it outwardly. She did such a good job of disguising this, in fact, that Lawrence sometimes forgot it was true.
"...Seems you've managed to learn something, then."
"Even I learn eventually."
"Heh. Still, if we resort to staying here long enough, our food supplies become a concern. That will be a bit of a bother." Popping the final morsel into her mouth, Holo sat up.
"Mm, yes, true. And if the snow piles up too much, we could well end up trapped in here. I agree with you that if we're to be trapped, I'd rather have it be in a town."
"There's that, but I've another reason."
"Another?"
"Aye. You might well find yourself buried alive under the wool left behind by the sheep I'd devour."
"That's an eventuality I'm keen to avoid."
Holo was not necessarily joking. Even seen from a distance, it was clear the flock's wool was very fine. No doubt its meat would be likewise.
"Yet with that lot outside stuck here as well, they'll have naught to do but trade rumors. As we're seeking information, that could be rather convenient for us."
"That's a double-edged sword. Rumors spread in the blink of an eye in a place like this. We need to find out about the wolf bones while drawing as little attention as possible, that's the problem."
Lawrence stroked his beard as he thought this over, and it did not take very long for him to consider what few possibilities there were.
It was very difficult to keep the mouths of others closed.
What they needed was someone in whom they could safely place their trust, and at the moment, there was only one person like that.
But Lawrence hesitated to fully trust Piasky.
There was no doubt he was an excellent individual—so much so that Lawrence did not want to have to stand beside him in front of Holo.
"'Twill be well. Just as a pack with two heads will often quarrel among itself, so too will its two leaders not become terribly close friends. 'Tis nothing to worry over."
Holo's words had cut so perfectly to the core of Lawrence's concern that it was almost frustrating. But even he found it difficult to admit that he was hesitant to ask Piasky's aid because he was worried about how well Piasky and Holo might get along.
And yet if he remained resolute in his pride, he would be playing right into the wolf's paws. And his lack of faith could even be construed as lack of faith in Holo.
So Lawrence bluffed as though the biggest business deal of his life were riding on it. "After all we've been through, I'm not particularly concerned with whom you choose to be friends with," he declared.
Even Holo's ears should not be able to catch the lie, he reckoned.
And yet the moment he thought as much, Holo made a face as though she had just watched a rabbit hop into a snare. "Oh? Aren't you the leader of this pack?"
It took only a brief instant.


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

Input:
"We've more leftovers than I thought. With this much, it should last us a while, even counting for Huskins's portion. And if we run low, we're surrounded by merchants, so it'll hardly be a problem."
"Yes, only the well was very crowded, so water might be a problem."
That was Col—always keeping his eyes open.
When traveling without money, finding water was the highest priority.
Even a little food could be stretched to last a week, but it was not so with water.
"Should we go draw some now maybe?" Col asked.
"Perhaps...yes, go ahead and do that. We'll need it at dinner, and it's possible the well will freeze during the night."
"Right!"
Col seemed to feel most at ease when he had been given a task to complete. He gave his cheerful reply and then took a bucket and water skin before going back out into the cold.
Lawrence next addressed Holo, who quite unlike the industrious Col was lying back on a straw bed, popping dried raspberries into her mouth.
"It wasn't long ago that I would've greeted the sight of you there with sarcasm and gotten your rage in return," said Lawrence.
Holo also needed to feel useful, but unlike Col, she did not show it outwardly. She did such a good job of disguising this, in fact, that Lawrence sometimes forgot it was true.
"...Seems you've managed to learn something, then."
"Even I learn eventually."
"Heh. Still, if we resort to staying here long enough, our food supplies become a concern. That will be a bit of a bother." Popping the final morsel into her mouth, Holo sat up.
"Mm, yes, true. And if the snow piles up too much, we could well end up trapped in here. I agree with you that if we're to be trapped, I'd rather have it be in a town."
"There's that, but I've another reason."
"Another?"
"Aye. You might well find yourself buried alive under the wool left behind by the sheep I'd devour."
"That's an eventuality I'm keen to avoid."
Holo was not necessarily joking. Even seen from a distance, it was clear the flock's wool was very fine. No doubt its meat would be likewise.
"Yet with that lot outside stuck here as well, they'll have naught to do but trade rumors. As we're seeking information, that could be rather convenient for us."
"That's a double-edged sword. Rumors spread in the blink of an eye in a place like this. We need to find out about the wolf bones while drawing as little attention as possible, that's the problem."
Lawrence stroked his beard as he thought this over, and it did not take very long for him to consider what few possibilities there were.
It was very difficult to keep the mouths of others closed.
What they needed was someone in whom they could safely place their trust, and at the moment, there was only one person like that.
But Lawrence hesitated to fully trust Piasky.
There was no doubt he was an excellent individual—so much so that Lawrence did not want to have to stand beside him in front of Holo.
"'Twill be well. Just as a pack with two heads will often quarrel among itself, so too will its two leaders not become terribly close friends. 'Tis nothing to worry over."
Holo's words had cut so perfectly to the core of Lawrence's concern that it was almost frustrating. But even he found it difficult to admit that he was hesitant to ask Piasky's aid because he was worried about how well Piasky and Holo might get along.
And yet if he remained resolute in his pride, he would be playing right into the wolf's paws. And his lack of faith could even be construed as lack of faith in Holo.
So Lawrence bluffed as though the biggest business deal of his life were riding on it. "After all we've been through, I'm not particularly concerned with whom you choose to be friends with," he declared.
Even Holo's ears should not be able to catch the lie, he reckoned.
And yet the moment he thought as much, Holo made a face as though she had just watched a rabbit hop into a snare. "Oh? Aren't you the leader of this pack?"
It took only a brief instant.

Output:
Lawrence thought back over Holo's words. She was a genius at obscuring the subject of her sentences. Worse, she understood all too well how others would interpret them.
"I thought as much, but—so 'tis true, then, that you were worried about such a thing? Not only do you count me the pack's leader, but you're hoping I won't give my favor to another?" Holo grinned. "Such an adorable pup."
She had gotten him again after all this time.
Lawrence did not so much as grunt.
The way she looked up at him with her chin in her hands was maddeningly cheeky. He wanted to grab her cheek, wrap her in a blanket, and toss her outside.
But if he lost his temper here, it would be like throwing oil on the fire of his shame. Like tossing money after a thief.
Lawrence reminded himself that gracefully accepting his defeat, while allowing a little frustration to show through, was the best response—the response most worthy of a merchant.
He heard the sound of rustling fabric; it was the sound of Holo turning over in her bed, annoyed by Lawrence's unexpectedly calm reaction.
"Hmph, look at you, playing at being such a reasonable male."
It was a terrible thing to say, but he could not rise to the bait.
"It's easy enough to do if I just think back to my childhood."
"Oh, aye?"
Lawrence held up his index finger and placed his other arm behind him at his waist, as though delivering a lecture. "When trying to attract the attention of the one you care for, what's the most charming method?"
Holo was dumbfounded.
"Why it's to harass her a little bit and make her notice you."
So don't get upset over every little thing. Lawrence walked over to the bed and poked Holo's nose with his index finger.
Naturally there were any number of comebacks she could have hurled at him. Lawrence was well aware of this, given how many times he had been sure he had her cornered only to have her turn the tables.
So he was fully prepared to have the finger he had thrust at her nose bitten, but for some reason, Holo seemed to find that fact itself amusing.
As Lawrence waited, wondering when she would counter-attack, she simply sat there looking up at him.
At length, with his finger still on her nose, she spoke in a slightly nasal tone. "There's no accounting for taste."
One did not always prefer what was objectively best. Piasky, for example.
Such was the signal of Holo's surrender. But her words had been chosen specifically to avoid flattering Lawrence.
"I-I'll take that as a compliment."
It was pathetic of him to stutter at such a crucial moment, though Her Wisewolfness seemed pleased.
"Hmph." Holo laughed through her nose.
Shortly thereafter, Col returned breathlessly to the room, carrying water with him.
While they were not particularly trying to obscure their identities, Lawrence and his companions only entered the sanctuary once the sun had begun to set.
Even with candles, the hour seemed somehow darker than true night.
As the snow continued to fall outside, the prospect of sitting in a pew and offering prayers of devotion had started to seem rather attractive.
The abbey's day was offset from the regular business day by about 25 percent, so the evening sermon was long since over, and the only ones in the sanctuary were Lawrence, his companions, and Piasky, along with a monk carrying a sheepskin satchel of very fine quality.
When he saw that Lawrence and the others had finished their prayers, he wordlessly approached them and opened his bag.
Piasky, Lawrence, and his two companions all dropped silver coins from across the sea into it.
"The blessings of God be upon you," said the monk gruffly and then quickly retreated.
No doubt he had candle lighting and nocturne to prepare for, but such treatment would hardly inspire average believers to come here on pilgrimage.
"Now, then, shall we?" murmured Piasky, and the words left his mouth in a puff of white vapor.
It was cold and well past the time to be enjoying wine, mutton, and merrymaking.


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

Input:
Lawrence thought back over Holo's words. She was a genius at obscuring the subject of her sentences. Worse, she understood all too well how others would interpret them.
"I thought as much, but—so 'tis true, then, that you were worried about such a thing? Not only do you count me the pack's leader, but you're hoping I won't give my favor to another?" Holo grinned. "Such an adorable pup."
She had gotten him again after all this time.
Lawrence did not so much as grunt.
The way she looked up at him with her chin in her hands was maddeningly cheeky. He wanted to grab her cheek, wrap her in a blanket, and toss her outside.
But if he lost his temper here, it would be like throwing oil on the fire of his shame. Like tossing money after a thief.
Lawrence reminded himself that gracefully accepting his defeat, while allowing a little frustration to show through, was the best response—the response most worthy of a merchant.
He heard the sound of rustling fabric; it was the sound of Holo turning over in her bed, annoyed by Lawrence's unexpectedly calm reaction.
"Hmph, look at you, playing at being such a reasonable male."
It was a terrible thing to say, but he could not rise to the bait.
"It's easy enough to do if I just think back to my childhood."
"Oh, aye?"
Lawrence held up his index finger and placed his other arm behind him at his waist, as though delivering a lecture. "When trying to attract the attention of the one you care for, what's the most charming method?"
Holo was dumbfounded.
"Why it's to harass her a little bit and make her notice you."
So don't get upset over every little thing. Lawrence walked over to the bed and poked Holo's nose with his index finger.
Naturally there were any number of comebacks she could have hurled at him. Lawrence was well aware of this, given how many times he had been sure he had her cornered only to have her turn the tables.
So he was fully prepared to have the finger he had thrust at her nose bitten, but for some reason, Holo seemed to find that fact itself amusing.
As Lawrence waited, wondering when she would counter-attack, she simply sat there looking up at him.
At length, with his finger still on her nose, she spoke in a slightly nasal tone. "There's no accounting for taste."
One did not always prefer what was objectively best. Piasky, for example.
Such was the signal of Holo's surrender. But her words had been chosen specifically to avoid flattering Lawrence.
"I-I'll take that as a compliment."
It was pathetic of him to stutter at such a crucial moment, though Her Wisewolfness seemed pleased.
"Hmph." Holo laughed through her nose.
Shortly thereafter, Col returned breathlessly to the room, carrying water with him.
While they were not particularly trying to obscure their identities, Lawrence and his companions only entered the sanctuary once the sun had begun to set.
Even with candles, the hour seemed somehow darker than true night.
As the snow continued to fall outside, the prospect of sitting in a pew and offering prayers of devotion had started to seem rather attractive.
The abbey's day was offset from the regular business day by about 25 percent, so the evening sermon was long since over, and the only ones in the sanctuary were Lawrence, his companions, and Piasky, along with a monk carrying a sheepskin satchel of very fine quality.
When he saw that Lawrence and the others had finished their prayers, he wordlessly approached them and opened his bag.
Piasky, Lawrence, and his two companions all dropped silver coins from across the sea into it.
"The blessings of God be upon you," said the monk gruffly and then quickly retreated.
No doubt he had candle lighting and nocturne to prepare for, but such treatment would hardly inspire average believers to come here on pilgrimage.
"Now, then, shall we?" murmured Piasky, and the words left his mouth in a puff of white vapor.
It was cold and well past the time to be enjoying wine, mutton, and merrymaking.

Output:
Lawrence nodded. Col was still silently praying, as was Holo; Lawrence nudged him, and they stood.
The sanctuary's high ceiling, from its entrance to the altar, gave the space a sense of grandeur, along with the august, divine majesty thanks to wealth accumulated over many years. If the embroidered curtain that hung down from the ceiling, faded by candle soot and cold winters alike, were pulled back, it felt very much that the past could be glimpsed as a golden, glittering land.
"Brondel Abbey...the house of our almighty God...," Col murmured, looking back after they'd passed the cloister and gone through a set of iron-barred, heavily fortified doors.
Though they would call Col a pagan, he did not seem to particularly hate the Church.
Perhaps he was struck by the majesty of this building that had been constructed here in the land of falling snow and had decided to let such small details slide, or perhaps he was simply fond of that verse.
Under normal circumstances Holo would have made sport of him, but she continued to hold his hand when he stopped and joined him in looking back. After a moment like that, they both followed after Lawrence.
"In truth, I would've liked to be able to invite you and your companions along as well, Mr. Lawrence..."
"Not at all. I understand entirely. Though if this were a business negotiation, I'd have a seat at the table even if I had to invite myself."
"Ha-ha-ha, I appreciate your saying so. I'll see you tomorrow, though."
"Indeed. Enjoy your wining!"
Lawrence and company took their leave of Piasky there in the torch-lit sanctuary and then proceeded to the shepherds' dormitories. At this late hour the streets were empty, even those around the sanctuary, and the only light came from the lanterns beside each building's door.
"I'll just bet he'll have good wining, I will," said Holo.
They had not prayed within the sanctuary very long, but the footprints they had left on their way in had been buried under the falling snow.
"The wine in our wineskins is good enough," said Lawrence.
"Aye, but good wining means good food and good company as well."
"Just what are you getting at...?" Lawrence immediately assumed she was talking about him, but then realized otherwise. "Look, you—don't say anything like that at dinner, understand?"
Beneath her hood, Holo heaved a heavy sigh. Lawrence was certain that the whump sound of a foot stomping on snow was not his imagination.
"Just how is one meant to enjoy their drink around one so scruffy and gloomy? Not only would he not give me a proper greeting, just when I wondered where he'd gone, he returned with a basket full of raw mutton. Just what is he thinking, drying it above the hearth like that? Is he making sport of me?"
Shepherds departed early in the morning and returned only when the sun went down, so aside from dinner, most of their eating was done out of doors. To make matters worse, this was a place where snow was the norm. If the snow was too severe, a shepherd could be forced to find somewhere to stay at through the night. There certainly was no room in the dormitory for all the sheep. Preparing food for his comrades in the many stables here and there was part of his job.
Rather than being deliberately unsociable, Huskins's lack of grace was probably due to his being simply busy with preparations for the next day.
Of course, it was less that and more the fact that he had the nerve to make mutton jerky right in front of her that bothered Holo so much. Worse, next to the string of jerky were links of mutton sausage.
"If it's jerky you want, there should still be some in the bag."
"That tough stuff suits my taste not," said Holo, turning away in displeasure.
It was enough to make Lawrence laugh. She was like an unreasonable child. But he knew he needed to be prepared for when she decided to truly press him. She had only given him trouble because the meat had been right before her eyes.


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

Input:
Lawrence nodded. Col was still silently praying, as was Holo; Lawrence nudged him, and they stood.
The sanctuary's high ceiling, from its entrance to the altar, gave the space a sense of grandeur, along with the august, divine majesty thanks to wealth accumulated over many years. If the embroidered curtain that hung down from the ceiling, faded by candle soot and cold winters alike, were pulled back, it felt very much that the past could be glimpsed as a golden, glittering land.
"Brondel Abbey...the house of our almighty God...," Col murmured, looking back after they'd passed the cloister and gone through a set of iron-barred, heavily fortified doors.
Though they would call Col a pagan, he did not seem to particularly hate the Church.
Perhaps he was struck by the majesty of this building that had been constructed here in the land of falling snow and had decided to let such small details slide, or perhaps he was simply fond of that verse.
Under normal circumstances Holo would have made sport of him, but she continued to hold his hand when he stopped and joined him in looking back. After a moment like that, they both followed after Lawrence.
"In truth, I would've liked to be able to invite you and your companions along as well, Mr. Lawrence..."
"Not at all. I understand entirely. Though if this were a business negotiation, I'd have a seat at the table even if I had to invite myself."
"Ha-ha-ha, I appreciate your saying so. I'll see you tomorrow, though."
"Indeed. Enjoy your wining!"
Lawrence and company took their leave of Piasky there in the torch-lit sanctuary and then proceeded to the shepherds' dormitories. At this late hour the streets were empty, even those around the sanctuary, and the only light came from the lanterns beside each building's door.
"I'll just bet he'll have good wining, I will," said Holo.
They had not prayed within the sanctuary very long, but the footprints they had left on their way in had been buried under the falling snow.
"The wine in our wineskins is good enough," said Lawrence.
"Aye, but good wining means good food and good company as well."
"Just what are you getting at...?" Lawrence immediately assumed she was talking about him, but then realized otherwise. "Look, you—don't say anything like that at dinner, understand?"
Beneath her hood, Holo heaved a heavy sigh. Lawrence was certain that the whump sound of a foot stomping on snow was not his imagination.
"Just how is one meant to enjoy their drink around one so scruffy and gloomy? Not only would he not give me a proper greeting, just when I wondered where he'd gone, he returned with a basket full of raw mutton. Just what is he thinking, drying it above the hearth like that? Is he making sport of me?"
Shepherds departed early in the morning and returned only when the sun went down, so aside from dinner, most of their eating was done out of doors. To make matters worse, this was a place where snow was the norm. If the snow was too severe, a shepherd could be forced to find somewhere to stay at through the night. There certainly was no room in the dormitory for all the sheep. Preparing food for his comrades in the many stables here and there was part of his job.
Rather than being deliberately unsociable, Huskins's lack of grace was probably due to his being simply busy with preparations for the next day.
Of course, it was less that and more the fact that he had the nerve to make mutton jerky right in front of her that bothered Holo so much. Worse, next to the string of jerky were links of mutton sausage.
"If it's jerky you want, there should still be some in the bag."
"That tough stuff suits my taste not," said Holo, turning away in displeasure.
It was enough to make Lawrence laugh. She was like an unreasonable child. But he knew he needed to be prepared for when she decided to truly press him. She had only given him trouble because the meat had been right before her eyes.

Output:
"Why don't you just use the stewpot for a pillow from now on, hmm?"
Lawrence replied with a sigh. "Are you saying it'll soften my head?"
Holo faced forward and did not deign to reply.
Such was their conversation as they returned to the dormitory, the sounds of laughter and the scents of delicious food emanating from the rooms they passed. Holo was not the only one licking her lips at the smell of mutton.
The rickety doors of each building would be easily broken with a kick. Holo peered through each one as they passed, trying to catch a glimpse of what was being eaten within.
There were five rooms in the dormitory, with Lawrence and his companions occupying one of two rooms on the second floor.
In total, fifteen shepherds were housed there, and there was even a kennel dedicated for the sheepdogs. Counting the barns that dotted the surrounding countryside, Lawrence guessed there were around thirty shepherds in total. Not all of them would know each other, as they alternated sleeping out in the barns and here in the dormitory.
Of them, Huskins was the oldest, and he supposedly knew more about sheep than God.
"We've returned."
It was not uncommon for travelers to rent rooms in the others' homes while journeying. A good way to ensure a pleasant time for all was to greet the home's occupants warmly.
"It's a magnificent sanctuary you have here."
Huskins gave only a minute nod, silently trimming tendons and fat from raw meat. Holo's look of pleasure was no doubt thanks to his removal of the fat, her favorite part.
Once Lawrence had seen Holo and Col back to the room, he immediately set about preparing for dinner. They were only allowed to stay there on the condition that they look after Huskins's meals.
Just as Lawrence picked up a stewpot, Huskins suddenly spoke.
"...A fitting place for God to live."
Understanding that this was in reference to the sanctuary, Lawrence smiled and nodded.
Lawrence borrowed some tools from Huskins to make a support for the pot, and then filled it with water, along with the ingredients in the proportions he had learned from Piasky.
He knew Holo liked a slightly stronger flavor, so he put in a little extra salt. Likewise he had heard that shepherds, like their sheep, preferred their food salty. He added some of the tough jerky, along with the bread that had been reduced to crumbs in its bag, making what would be a very nutritious meal.
Normally this would have been a good opportunity for some idle conversation, but Huskins was as quiet as ever as he continued his work. It was often said that those who spent their years with animals would soon become unable to speak with anyone else, and Lawrence could understand why someone would say so.
"Dinner's on."
Lawrence went over to the next room to call Holo and Col in, whereupon he saw that they had pulled a few pieces of straw out of the bed and were playing a childish guessing game with them, trying to guess the shortest one.
Given the smile on his face, it seemed likely that Col was winning.
Lawrence patted Holo's head as he walked by them, and she very distinctly leaned toward him flirtatiously.
She didn't seem to be in very good spirits.
"Thanks be to God for this meal."
As befit an abbey, they recited the traditional prayer—something they did not normally do.
With a smile on his face, Col started eating immediately, but Holo's expression was a sour one, as though she really were a nun.
This was partially because the stew had only jerky for meat, but also because her distilled grape wine did not taste good with the hot broth.
Travel notwithstanding, now that they had reached their destination, Lawrence did not mind if she got drunk. He was sure he would hear her complaints on the subject, except that before them sat Huskins, like some sort of hermit.
In order to keep up appearances, Lawrence had decided it was best for them to appear to be pious pilgrims.


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

Input:
"Why don't you just use the stewpot for a pillow from now on, hmm?"
Lawrence replied with a sigh. "Are you saying it'll soften my head?"
Holo faced forward and did not deign to reply.
Such was their conversation as they returned to the dormitory, the sounds of laughter and the scents of delicious food emanating from the rooms they passed. Holo was not the only one licking her lips at the smell of mutton.
The rickety doors of each building would be easily broken with a kick. Holo peered through each one as they passed, trying to catch a glimpse of what was being eaten within.
There were five rooms in the dormitory, with Lawrence and his companions occupying one of two rooms on the second floor.
In total, fifteen shepherds were housed there, and there was even a kennel dedicated for the sheepdogs. Counting the barns that dotted the surrounding countryside, Lawrence guessed there were around thirty shepherds in total. Not all of them would know each other, as they alternated sleeping out in the barns and here in the dormitory.
Of them, Huskins was the oldest, and he supposedly knew more about sheep than God.
"We've returned."
It was not uncommon for travelers to rent rooms in the others' homes while journeying. A good way to ensure a pleasant time for all was to greet the home's occupants warmly.
"It's a magnificent sanctuary you have here."
Huskins gave only a minute nod, silently trimming tendons and fat from raw meat. Holo's look of pleasure was no doubt thanks to his removal of the fat, her favorite part.
Once Lawrence had seen Holo and Col back to the room, he immediately set about preparing for dinner. They were only allowed to stay there on the condition that they look after Huskins's meals.
Just as Lawrence picked up a stewpot, Huskins suddenly spoke.
"...A fitting place for God to live."
Understanding that this was in reference to the sanctuary, Lawrence smiled and nodded.
Lawrence borrowed some tools from Huskins to make a support for the pot, and then filled it with water, along with the ingredients in the proportions he had learned from Piasky.
He knew Holo liked a slightly stronger flavor, so he put in a little extra salt. Likewise he had heard that shepherds, like their sheep, preferred their food salty. He added some of the tough jerky, along with the bread that had been reduced to crumbs in its bag, making what would be a very nutritious meal.
Normally this would have been a good opportunity for some idle conversation, but Huskins was as quiet as ever as he continued his work. It was often said that those who spent their years with animals would soon become unable to speak with anyone else, and Lawrence could understand why someone would say so.
"Dinner's on."
Lawrence went over to the next room to call Holo and Col in, whereupon he saw that they had pulled a few pieces of straw out of the bed and were playing a childish guessing game with them, trying to guess the shortest one.
Given the smile on his face, it seemed likely that Col was winning.
Lawrence patted Holo's head as he walked by them, and she very distinctly leaned toward him flirtatiously.
She didn't seem to be in very good spirits.
"Thanks be to God for this meal."
As befit an abbey, they recited the traditional prayer—something they did not normally do.
With a smile on his face, Col started eating immediately, but Holo's expression was a sour one, as though she really were a nun.
This was partially because the stew had only jerky for meat, but also because her distilled grape wine did not taste good with the hot broth.
Travel notwithstanding, now that they had reached their destination, Lawrence did not mind if she got drunk. He was sure he would hear her complaints on the subject, except that before them sat Huskins, like some sort of hermit.
In order to keep up appearances, Lawrence had decided it was best for them to appear to be pious pilgrims.

Output:
It would be best to seize the opportunity that staying with Huskins provided, given that although he was merely a shepherd, he had still lived in the abbey for a very long time. Like a jug filled with water, a taciturn person's mind was filled with knowledge. The problem was figuring out how to remove the lid.
Huskins continued to eat his meal, silent, offering neither comments nor thanks.
Given that the dinner was a contractually obligated one, expressing any criticism would likely lead to a conflict, so his silence was undoubtedly the correct approach.
Unfortunately, this also meant that Lawrence had no opportunity to begin to pry the lid off. He would have to wait for a chance to present itself.
Lawrence thought it over as he continued to eat, and finally Huskins stood.
The contents of the pot were nearly gone—all that was left was to divvy up the remaining thick broth.
Holo grinned openly at the prospect of having one less person to have to share with, but her grin disappeared as he sat back down.
Huskins casually took a piece of jerky that had been drying on a strap and dropped it into the pot.
"...It's nice, eating with a group for once."
His voice was like a burned-out log collapsing in a campfire, but to Lawrence and his companions, each of whom had often eaten alone, it was a warm and friendly greeting.
Holo's mood immediately improved, and she was already eating some of the meat, which had not yet had a chance to properly boil.
Just as Lawrence was going to thank Huskins, he saw the old man offering him a small bottle.
As far as he could tell from the whitish substance around the lid, it seemed to be some sort of liquor made from sheep's milk.
Lawrence finished the wine in his own cup, then gratefully allowed Huskins to pour him some of the proffered drink.
"There's a taste I've not had in some time." It was a flavor one either loved or hated, and for his part Lawrence was none too fond of it.
And yet he understood that this was a gesture of friendship from Huskins, made in spite of their short stay.
Lawrence made a great show of savoring the stuff, such that Holo was surely laughing inwardly at him.
"So, Mr. Huskins..." Lawrence pretended at being prompted to speak out of drunkenness and stopped short to take in Huskins's reaction.
Huskins was cutting a piece of the boiled meat with a knife, which he put in his mouth and chased down with a drink of the milk liquor before looking at Lawrence.
"...You've been here long, have you?"
"...A few dozen years now. Since the time of the abbot before last."
"I see. I've been traveling since I was a boy, doing business all the while. I can barely imagine what it must be like to have spent so much time in one place."
Huskins said nothing, and sensing that he was still listening, Lawrence continued.
"Incidentally, I've heard there are three things that never change in the Winfiel kingdom. What about you, Mr. Huskins—would you say that's true?"
At these words, Huskins's knife froze in midslice in his bowl. His eyes looked far into the distance, as anyone's did when they were searching their memories.
"...The arrogant nobles, the beautiful plains..."
"And the flocks of sheep!"
As Lawrence finished the sentence, a faint smile flashed across Huskins's face.
"...It doesn't change much, this land."
"It sounds lovely."
"...You think so?" Huskins's voice was quiet but clear, as though he had seen through all of Lawrence's flattery.
Lawrence could feel Holo look up at him from under her hood, a bit of meat in her mouth.
His words were clear enough.
But Lawrence neither panicked nor cowered. He was a merchant and had no small amount of experience himself. "I use the same words any time I return somewhere after a year of travel and business." Lawrence smiled and continued, "Things never change."
***
From beneath the long, gray eyebrows, those animal yet human eyes focused on Lawrence. The powerful gaze felt somehow like Huskins was looking at him good and hard for the very first time.


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

Input:
It would be best to seize the opportunity that staying with Huskins provided, given that although he was merely a shepherd, he had still lived in the abbey for a very long time. Like a jug filled with water, a taciturn person's mind was filled with knowledge. The problem was figuring out how to remove the lid.
Huskins continued to eat his meal, silent, offering neither comments nor thanks.
Given that the dinner was a contractually obligated one, expressing any criticism would likely lead to a conflict, so his silence was undoubtedly the correct approach.
Unfortunately, this also meant that Lawrence had no opportunity to begin to pry the lid off. He would have to wait for a chance to present itself.
Lawrence thought it over as he continued to eat, and finally Huskins stood.
The contents of the pot were nearly gone—all that was left was to divvy up the remaining thick broth.
Holo grinned openly at the prospect of having one less person to have to share with, but her grin disappeared as he sat back down.
Huskins casually took a piece of jerky that had been drying on a strap and dropped it into the pot.
"...It's nice, eating with a group for once."
His voice was like a burned-out log collapsing in a campfire, but to Lawrence and his companions, each of whom had often eaten alone, it was a warm and friendly greeting.
Holo's mood immediately improved, and she was already eating some of the meat, which had not yet had a chance to properly boil.
Just as Lawrence was going to thank Huskins, he saw the old man offering him a small bottle.
As far as he could tell from the whitish substance around the lid, it seemed to be some sort of liquor made from sheep's milk.
Lawrence finished the wine in his own cup, then gratefully allowed Huskins to pour him some of the proffered drink.
"There's a taste I've not had in some time." It was a flavor one either loved or hated, and for his part Lawrence was none too fond of it.
And yet he understood that this was a gesture of friendship from Huskins, made in spite of their short stay.
Lawrence made a great show of savoring the stuff, such that Holo was surely laughing inwardly at him.
"So, Mr. Huskins..." Lawrence pretended at being prompted to speak out of drunkenness and stopped short to take in Huskins's reaction.
Huskins was cutting a piece of the boiled meat with a knife, which he put in his mouth and chased down with a drink of the milk liquor before looking at Lawrence.
"...You've been here long, have you?"
"...A few dozen years now. Since the time of the abbot before last."
"I see. I've been traveling since I was a boy, doing business all the while. I can barely imagine what it must be like to have spent so much time in one place."
Huskins said nothing, and sensing that he was still listening, Lawrence continued.
"Incidentally, I've heard there are three things that never change in the Winfiel kingdom. What about you, Mr. Huskins—would you say that's true?"
At these words, Huskins's knife froze in midslice in his bowl. His eyes looked far into the distance, as anyone's did when they were searching their memories.
"...The arrogant nobles, the beautiful plains..."
"And the flocks of sheep!"
As Lawrence finished the sentence, a faint smile flashed across Huskins's face.
"...It doesn't change much, this land."
"It sounds lovely."
"...You think so?" Huskins's voice was quiet but clear, as though he had seen through all of Lawrence's flattery.
Lawrence could feel Holo look up at him from under her hood, a bit of meat in her mouth.
His words were clear enough.
But Lawrence neither panicked nor cowered. He was a merchant and had no small amount of experience himself. "I use the same words any time I return somewhere after a year of travel and business." Lawrence smiled and continued, "Things never change."
***
From beneath the long, gray eyebrows, those animal yet human eyes focused on Lawrence. The powerful gaze felt somehow like Huskins was looking at him good and hard for the very first time.

Output:
"No doubt. This is Brondel Abbey after all."
Huskins nodded; then after nodding, he wordlessly poured Lawrence some more liquor.
Lawrence got the feeling Huskins had taken a liking to him. He could not stop himself from wishing that the wine were actually tasty.
"Thought not even a stone wall can resist the changes of the passing days," said Lawrence.
"...You mean those merchants? Are you lot any different?" This sarcastic manner of asking was particular to the region.
Lawrence swallowed more liquor and smiled, chagrined. "I am indeed a merchant, but my aim is a bit different from the others flocking here."
"...Oh ho. Coming all the way out here and bringing God's little lambs with you..."
"I'm here on pilgrimage to inquire about a holy relic here at the abbey."
Lawrence did not mention the wolf bones.
An abbey as large as Brondel would certainly have a few holy relics, and many pilgrims would surely come to view them.
Huskins appeared momentarily surprised but soon seemed to accept the story. He worked his mouth as though murmuring something and then nodded. "...There are many reasons to travel. Such brings color to a drab world."
Coming from the mouth of a minstrel, such words would have been mere affectation, but from Huskins they had the ring of truth.
Lawrence smiled and nodded, giving Huskins the greater portion of what delicious, savory broth remained in the bowl.
The next morning, Huskins left before dawn broke.
Through the window, the energetic barking of the sheepdogs could be heard as could chattering human voices, which suggested he always left around this hour.
Lawrence shivered at the frigid air that crept in under the blanket and clung to Holo's tail—she was under the same blanket—trying to hold on to the happiness of warmth just a bit longer.
When he next awoke, a good amount of time had passed. The sun was already well in the sky, and several rays slipped through the cracks in the window.
No sooner had he mused upon how complacent he had grown, having done no business in a while, than he realized what it was that let him sleep so soundly.
It was very warm under the covers—and Holo had slept in the same bed all night.
"I surely am handy to have about."
And surely it was pleasant to awaken to a beautiful maiden sleeping upon one's chest—though not perhaps when her mouth was full of jerky.
And not when her breath stank of liquor.
No doubt she had wanted to avoid being scolded, and furthermore, she hated the notion of hunching over next to the fireplace to drink alone. Even Lawrence avoided drinking alone—and it was warmer under the blankets, as well.
"...Where's Col?"
"I know not...He tended the hearth for a while, but once the sun rose he went off with the shepherds and their staves."
A shred of jerky hanging from her mouth shook as she spoke, and from its color, Lawrence was sure it was part of the meat Huskins had been drying the previous day.
But criticizing her would be more trouble that it was worth. He would simply have to hope that Huskins didn't notice.
"So it's sunny outside, eh...?"
The winter often kept people shut up indoors for one reason or another.
If it was fine out, there would be more people out, with the blooms of their conversation more lively.
"Aye. Just a moment ago the dogs were scampering about. And it seems as though a certain someone seems to be thinking me one of them."
"Better than drinking wine first thing in the morning. Come, move aside. I've got to go out and see what's afoot."
He nudged Holo's shoulder, but she seemed completely disinclined to move. He heaved a heavy sigh and crawled out of the bed.
While the sun had been up for some time, cold was cold.
He wanted to return to the bed where Holo continued to gnaw on her jerky, but such was the devil's temptation. Lawrence opened the window wide.
That moment the sunlight reflecting off the snow stabbed into his eyes, rendering his vision temporarily ineffective.
"...Whew. Still, what a sight."
"'Tis cold."