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

Input:
If collections slowed because town gates had been shut, it would hinder repayment. Even more so, if everyone learned how money they had merely deposited was being used behind their backs, no one would want to use bills of exchange anymore.
If that happened, their financing would suddenly dry up.
"I think we should send a fast horse to Lesko and confirm the situation! This is a life-and-death issue for this town, indeed, all the northlands! There's no reason to rush a decision whatsoever! Or is it that you wish to dazzle the townspeople with stolen money!"
At those words, many people's heads pulled back.
As they regarded at one another's faces, perhaps they were remembering what they looked like when they were picking up the scattered silver pieces—wretched, miserable, without a single shred of dignity.
Lawrence went to shout one final time.
However, his breath cut short and his head went dizzy. He had come to the limit of his physical strength.
His eyes were spinning; his legs were shaking. At the end of his vision, a broad smile came over Yanarkin.
This was bad. If he could not press his case, he would lose the crowd.
"Th-this is absurd! Of course this is not borrowed money! If we did such a thing, th-the Church would surely be angry! But, we, the Debau Company, bear the seal of the Church as well! The Church and the lords are with us because what we are doing is just!"
Here he was, speaking of the Church in the middle of the northlands. Proof enough he had lost his cool.
It was working.
"Then...!"
But right after Lawrence got that far, his throat felt pressure as if someone was pressing a lid on it as the edges of his vision wavered.
Grave wounds. Fever. Giddiness.
He had spoken too much.
Lawrence's spine arched back from lack of breath. The edges of his vision were going black. His head was throbbing; his consciousness was growing distant. Even though he had the words to retort with, he lacked the strength to speak them.
Lawrence fell to his knees.
Strength. Once again, he lacked strength.
As Lawrence wept, an angel slapped his cheek.
"You truly are a fool." Somehow managing to crouch against the window, he looked beside him. "But you are not alone any longer."
Even if one person could not move forward alone, two people could.
That was the true meaning of his journey with Holo.
"My lines."
And with Holo's one sentence, he understood all. Holo had the appearance of a nun, and her skill in speech was magnificent enough to tie even merchants into knots.
Lawrence put his embarrassingly shaking hands on his knees, finally pulling his body together when it seemed like it would fall apart.
Even so, he could firmly say, never in his life had his heart ever been supported more.
"...Then, I ask you..."
"Then, I ask you!"
Holo's voice reverberated like a bell. That it was a girl's voice made its strength all that more poignant.
Furthermore, Holo seemed amused from the bottom of her heart, which reassured Lawrence tremendously.
"While you, fling silver coins about..."
"While you fling silver coins about!"
"You speak of...prosperity giving rise to new silver coins..."
"You speak of prosperity giving rise to new silver coins!"
Lawrence gave up on crouching against the windowsill and sat on the floor, resting his back against the wall.
"But these are not the Church's teachings...for silver coins are silver coins. And if silver coins do give rise to anything, that..."
Holo yelled in a loud voice in accordance with Lawrence's murmurs.
It was as if she were a shopgirl calling customers over to his store.
"That would be interest! The Church does not approve of interest! You, the thief, misusing the name of the Church! What is your objective?! Or is it on purpose that you anger the Church, invade a blameless land, bringing about destruction?!"

Output:
But Holo's speaking was so perfect, she could go preaching on the street just like that.
"Hff, hff." As Holo finished speaking, Lawrence heard small, ragged breaths.
And after seeming to swallow once to get her breathing in order, Holo turned toward him.
Lawrence looked up at Holo and said, "Well done."
The crowd outside was astir. Lawrence could not see from where he was, but Yanarkin was probably looking all around with tears on his face.
"S-silence, silence! Si— No, it's not like that...listen to me, I—I only want to...to profit, profiting, is delight..."
He had fallen to pieces, no longer bearing any words worth speaking.
When, with Holo's support, Lawrence somehow managed to get to his feet, Yanarkin was desperately searching for words, finally gazing all about at the crowd, looking like he was pleading for help. But now, the crowd all around him that he had dazzled so much by scattering silver coins about merely gazed at him from afar.
Finally, Yanarkin thrust his quivering hand into the box he carried and flung silver coins out. The crowd surrounding him watched with their eyes, like a dove observing a thrown pebble, but not a single person stretched out his hand.
They had won. It was a complete victory.
They had won against those who would seize the hearts of men by scattering money about.
Hilde looked his way, and their eyes met.
Lawrence said nothing and closed his eyes, raising them toward the heavens.
"You who have just witnessed the courage of my comrades! Close the gates! A great army invades!"
As Hilde shouted, the crowd rushed as one. Soldiers joined them in ones and twos as well; they too loved their town, and they too held the power to determine what was just and what was unjust.
Finally, nearly all of them had joined the crowd, running off to prepare for the great army's onslaught.
Yanarkin stood in terror as he watched the crowd go. As he regained his senses, he unsteadily pressed close to Hilde and latched onto him.
"D-don't do anything rash! If you close the gates, th-they'll blame me. They'll kill me! They'll rip me to pieces!"
It was all too pathetic how he pleaded for his life. Lawrence could not even summon anger over how he had made his gamble without a single thought about such a risk.
Even with Yanarkin grabbing him by the collar, Hilde made no move to resist. It was Moizi who peeled Yanarkin off him. Hilde's silence was a de facto death sentence for Yanarkin. Finally, Yanarkin stopped struggling in Moizi's arms, hanging his head in defeat.
Hilde shifted his gaze to Millike next. Even as those surrounding him lost their bearings, the man who governed the town council calmly watched the flow of the crowd from horseback.
He had not erred to think as he had.
But people were not quite that foolish, nor quite that wise.
Though Millike noticed Hilde's gaze, silently trading glances with him, he suddenly spurred his horse, departing together with the few soldiers remaining with him. Moizi let go of Yanarkin, and Yanarkin stumbled after Millike and his men.
It seemed to be over.
Hilde and Moizi looked up at Lawrence from the street, waving their hands as if making a salute.
Lawrence made a light wave in return as he leaned on Holo's shoulder.
Then, the two men set their subordinates in order and returned to the inn.
Lawrence finally made a sigh of relief and looked at Holo beside him.
But a moment later his vision blurred, and without understanding what had happened, he found himself fallen on the floor, gazing straight up at the ceiling.
At the same time, Lawrence realized not only that he had been slapped on the cheek, but also that a Holo-shaped rump sat on his chest while a deft tail lay atop his head.
"That you would sit quietly in a store from here on truly was just a dream..."
Holo turned tired eyes toward Lawrence as she sat on top of him, resting her elbows on his lap and her chin on her palms.


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

Input:
But Holo's speaking was so perfect, she could go preaching on the street just like that.
"Hff, hff." As Holo finished speaking, Lawrence heard small, ragged breaths.
And after seeming to swallow once to get her breathing in order, Holo turned toward him.
Lawrence looked up at Holo and said, "Well done."
The crowd outside was astir. Lawrence could not see from where he was, but Yanarkin was probably looking all around with tears on his face.
"S-silence, silence! Si— No, it's not like that...listen to me, I—I only want to...to profit, profiting, is delight..."
He had fallen to pieces, no longer bearing any words worth speaking.
When, with Holo's support, Lawrence somehow managed to get to his feet, Yanarkin was desperately searching for words, finally gazing all about at the crowd, looking like he was pleading for help. But now, the crowd all around him that he had dazzled so much by scattering silver coins about merely gazed at him from afar.
Finally, Yanarkin thrust his quivering hand into the box he carried and flung silver coins out. The crowd surrounding him watched with their eyes, like a dove observing a thrown pebble, but not a single person stretched out his hand.
They had won. It was a complete victory.
They had won against those who would seize the hearts of men by scattering money about.
Hilde looked his way, and their eyes met.
Lawrence said nothing and closed his eyes, raising them toward the heavens.
"You who have just witnessed the courage of my comrades! Close the gates! A great army invades!"
As Hilde shouted, the crowd rushed as one. Soldiers joined them in ones and twos as well; they too loved their town, and they too held the power to determine what was just and what was unjust.
Finally, nearly all of them had joined the crowd, running off to prepare for the great army's onslaught.
Yanarkin stood in terror as he watched the crowd go. As he regained his senses, he unsteadily pressed close to Hilde and latched onto him.
"D-don't do anything rash! If you close the gates, th-they'll blame me. They'll kill me! They'll rip me to pieces!"
It was all too pathetic how he pleaded for his life. Lawrence could not even summon anger over how he had made his gamble without a single thought about such a risk.
Even with Yanarkin grabbing him by the collar, Hilde made no move to resist. It was Moizi who peeled Yanarkin off him. Hilde's silence was a de facto death sentence for Yanarkin. Finally, Yanarkin stopped struggling in Moizi's arms, hanging his head in defeat.
Hilde shifted his gaze to Millike next. Even as those surrounding him lost their bearings, the man who governed the town council calmly watched the flow of the crowd from horseback.
He had not erred to think as he had.
But people were not quite that foolish, nor quite that wise.
Though Millike noticed Hilde's gaze, silently trading glances with him, he suddenly spurred his horse, departing together with the few soldiers remaining with him. Moizi let go of Yanarkin, and Yanarkin stumbled after Millike and his men.
It seemed to be over.
Hilde and Moizi looked up at Lawrence from the street, waving their hands as if making a salute.
Lawrence made a light wave in return as he leaned on Holo's shoulder.
Then, the two men set their subordinates in order and returned to the inn.
Lawrence finally made a sigh of relief and looked at Holo beside him.
But a moment later his vision blurred, and without understanding what had happened, he found himself fallen on the floor, gazing straight up at the ceiling.
At the same time, Lawrence realized not only that he had been slapped on the cheek, but also that a Holo-shaped rump sat on his chest while a deft tail lay atop his head.
"That you would sit quietly in a store from here on truly was just a dream..."
Holo turned tired eyes toward Lawrence as she sat on top of him, resting her elbows on his lap and her chin on her palms.

Output:
And yet, he thought, even if Holo would have left him for it, he would have done it anyway.
This was Holo, after all; surely she had realized how absurdly determined he was.
More than that, Holo had gone along with a great fool of a man's pastime.
But even as he thought those things, he wanted to excuse it all with That's just how it turned out; it couldn't be helped.
And it went well, had it not?
Holo's tail softly patted Lawrence's cheek. Perhaps it was because she thought there might be even the slightest dissatisfaction on his face.
"I keep getting pulled along by no-good males."
Lawrence replied to Holo's oft-spoken words.
"But you love me anyway, don't you?"
Holo looked taken back for a moment, not dismissing it out of hand like usual.
As Holo gazed into space, as if immersed in the aftershocks of the great tumult, she made very deliberate movements with the tip of her tail, took a deep breath, and said this.
"Certainly, that is where the problem lies."
At the end, Holo glanced sideways at Lawrence, grinning and bearing it.
***
Two men, death-defying even by the standards of the Myuri Mercenary Company, accompanied Yanarkin, wearing a face like a condemned criminal on his way to the guillotine, out of town with a handwritten letter. Their destination was the camp of the army commanded by the captain of a thousand.
Before any answer came back, Hilde headed to Millike's residence for negotiations.
Holo wondered idly, What is there to negotiate over now?
But since Svernel was still the cornerstone of the intersection of the northlands, there were still things Hilde had to do.
It was good to have smashed Yanarkin's plot and spurred the crowd into closing the town gates like chivalrous rogues. Upon learning of these facts, the troops under the command of the captain of a thousand would likely turn back the way they came.
But that did not mean everything had been resolved.
As the town was under the rule of Jean Millike aka Havlish the Third, Hilde required a certain level of trust between them. Hilde was, after all, on the inside of the walls; if Millike wanted, he could have his troops surround the inn and set it ablaze.
That aside, lingering hard feelings would leave Svernel a future source of trouble.
From Millike's point of view, even if Hilde returned to the Debau Company in full glory, Millike could not know when he might be invaded, his political authority usurped.
Besides, Millike had that opaque confidence that suited him to ruling this town.
With this in mind, and as a person of the Debau Company, Hilde needed to build up a minimum of trust with Millike.
Therefore, Hilde heading to Millike's residence without bringing anyone else along was to display Hilde's good faith.
But Lawrence and the others were completely at a loss as to how he could actually win such trust from Millike. Proposing an agreement for the Debau Company not to interfere with Svernel held no potency whatsoever.
Hilde seemed to have a strong plan of attack, but Lawrence could not even picture it.
Moreover, as Millike might even kill him outright if things went poorly, those waiting back at the inn could not help but be concerned.
But a short time after sunset, Hilde returned safe and sound. While Lawrence and the others breathed a sigh of relief, the talks had apparently not concluded, for after a meal, Hilde returned to the residence to continue talks once more.
Unexpectedly, the second set of talks ended immediately.
Though joy was evident on Hilde's face, Lawrence and the others were rocked back when Hilde revealed the details.
Hilde had proposed to use this town as a second mint for the Debau Company.
But in shifting the profit from issuing the new currency, would this not cause some other huge problem?
Lawrence and the others had thought so, but upon hearing Hilde's plan, their concerns were quickly alleviated.
"And so, we must set alight the furnace of this town that has gone unused for so long."
The town had no proper furnace in operation.


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

Input:
And yet, he thought, even if Holo would have left him for it, he would have done it anyway.
This was Holo, after all; surely she had realized how absurdly determined he was.
More than that, Holo had gone along with a great fool of a man's pastime.
But even as he thought those things, he wanted to excuse it all with That's just how it turned out; it couldn't be helped.
And it went well, had it not?
Holo's tail softly patted Lawrence's cheek. Perhaps it was because she thought there might be even the slightest dissatisfaction on his face.
"I keep getting pulled along by no-good males."
Lawrence replied to Holo's oft-spoken words.
"But you love me anyway, don't you?"
Holo looked taken back for a moment, not dismissing it out of hand like usual.
As Holo gazed into space, as if immersed in the aftershocks of the great tumult, she made very deliberate movements with the tip of her tail, took a deep breath, and said this.
"Certainly, that is where the problem lies."
At the end, Holo glanced sideways at Lawrence, grinning and bearing it.
***
Two men, death-defying even by the standards of the Myuri Mercenary Company, accompanied Yanarkin, wearing a face like a condemned criminal on his way to the guillotine, out of town with a handwritten letter. Their destination was the camp of the army commanded by the captain of a thousand.
Before any answer came back, Hilde headed to Millike's residence for negotiations.
Holo wondered idly, What is there to negotiate over now?
But since Svernel was still the cornerstone of the intersection of the northlands, there were still things Hilde had to do.
It was good to have smashed Yanarkin's plot and spurred the crowd into closing the town gates like chivalrous rogues. Upon learning of these facts, the troops under the command of the captain of a thousand would likely turn back the way they came.
But that did not mean everything had been resolved.
As the town was under the rule of Jean Millike aka Havlish the Third, Hilde required a certain level of trust between them. Hilde was, after all, on the inside of the walls; if Millike wanted, he could have his troops surround the inn and set it ablaze.
That aside, lingering hard feelings would leave Svernel a future source of trouble.
From Millike's point of view, even if Hilde returned to the Debau Company in full glory, Millike could not know when he might be invaded, his political authority usurped.
Besides, Millike had that opaque confidence that suited him to ruling this town.
With this in mind, and as a person of the Debau Company, Hilde needed to build up a minimum of trust with Millike.
Therefore, Hilde heading to Millike's residence without bringing anyone else along was to display Hilde's good faith.
But Lawrence and the others were completely at a loss as to how he could actually win such trust from Millike. Proposing an agreement for the Debau Company not to interfere with Svernel held no potency whatsoever.
Hilde seemed to have a strong plan of attack, but Lawrence could not even picture it.
Moreover, as Millike might even kill him outright if things went poorly, those waiting back at the inn could not help but be concerned.
But a short time after sunset, Hilde returned safe and sound. While Lawrence and the others breathed a sigh of relief, the talks had apparently not concluded, for after a meal, Hilde returned to the residence to continue talks once more.
Unexpectedly, the second set of talks ended immediately.
Though joy was evident on Hilde's face, Lawrence and the others were rocked back when Hilde revealed the details.
Hilde had proposed to use this town as a second mint for the Debau Company.
But in shifting the profit from issuing the new currency, would this not cause some other huge problem?
Lawrence and the others had thought so, but upon hearing Hilde's plan, their concerns were quickly alleviated.
"And so, we must set alight the furnace of this town that has gone unused for so long."
The town had no proper furnace in operation.

Output:
Though Millike had thought to cut the town off from the northlands' foolish disturbances, he was well prepared should he ever change his mind.
That being the case, the furnace needed to be brought back into working condition so that Hilde could implement his plan.
"All right! Move away from there! Put those holding rods around there...Hey, you! Dig that hole properly!"
It was Luward, leaning on a cane, barking orders in front of an old blast furnace, currently used for the storage of furs and amber that passed through the town. When he had learned how Lawrence and Hilde had fought fiercely while he slept, he had wept in self-derision.
Certainly, to the leader of a mercenary company, it was a mortifying, unbecoming failure.
Seeing his master like that, Moizi frankly asked Lawrence and Hilde for aid. Surely, he asked, is there not some important duty to assign him so that he might regain his honor?
Apparently that is when Hilde had issued his order to get the furnace back in working order.
Also, perhaps because the town's residents had seen the tumult during daytime, there were many people concerning themselves with the defense of their own town's walls. That, too, established the well-disciplined Myuri Mercenary Company as the most suitable for the physical labor.
"It'll be finished by dawn, won't it?"
Based on the expectation that an envoy would be returning with the reply to negotiations with the Debau Company force commanded by the captain of a thousand, Lawrence deduced that it was already near daybreak.
Hilde replied optimistically to Lawrence's question as he beheld the Myuri Mercenary Company's way of working.
"I think it will be all right."
"I'm impressed that you thought of this, though."
Lawrence spoke as he stood beside the entrance of the warehouse-turned-blast furnace, watching the ongoing work.
"I slapped my knee when I realized, you really are resolving things with money."
They were watching the contents being cleaned out, a crack in the furnace being repaired, and the bellows being prepared and the equipment to make the bellows move when Lawrence spoke; Hilde merely laughed a little.
Right beside Lawrence stood a great merchant of which there were few.
That fact loosened Lawrence's tongue a little as he continued.
"I never had any sane notion you'd be using that stamp to remint gold lumion of all things."
For that was indeed what Hilde proposed to do.
Gold lumion were the gold coins with the highest level of purity, so even if reminted, they still retained marvelous value.
But the important thing was, the symbol was the same as the one the Debau Company was using to issue its own currency.
The Debau Company had announced it would issue gold and silver coins, but had not done so with gold coins. Gold coins were far too precious, not something to hand over to the common folk. Besides, each and every coin was a small fortune; even the Debau Company could not withstand issuing gold coins.
And that was why Svernel could issue these gold coins instead.
Since it was impossible to issue a large number of gold coins, it would have no great effect on the Debau Company's coin policies.
However, as a symbol, gold coins were particularly momentous; enough that it would be worth issuing a small trickle of coins on special occasions hereafter.
Therefore, Hilde's proposal was to entrust the town with one of the stamps and to pay it a suitable fee to mint gold coins when an occasion to issue them arose.
Having gone that far, even after Hilde and Debau returned to power at the Debau Company, no harm was likely to come to Svernel.
If the Debau Company, having shown Svernel such favor, treated the town coarsely on some occasion, it would lose trust from all corners of the northlands.
Meaning, Hilde was giving Millike a reason to trust him to ensure the long-term stability of Svernel.
Millike was not someone who would be ignorant of the value of that.


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

Input:
Though Millike had thought to cut the town off from the northlands' foolish disturbances, he was well prepared should he ever change his mind.
That being the case, the furnace needed to be brought back into working condition so that Hilde could implement his plan.
"All right! Move away from there! Put those holding rods around there...Hey, you! Dig that hole properly!"
It was Luward, leaning on a cane, barking orders in front of an old blast furnace, currently used for the storage of furs and amber that passed through the town. When he had learned how Lawrence and Hilde had fought fiercely while he slept, he had wept in self-derision.
Certainly, to the leader of a mercenary company, it was a mortifying, unbecoming failure.
Seeing his master like that, Moizi frankly asked Lawrence and Hilde for aid. Surely, he asked, is there not some important duty to assign him so that he might regain his honor?
Apparently that is when Hilde had issued his order to get the furnace back in working order.
Also, perhaps because the town's residents had seen the tumult during daytime, there were many people concerning themselves with the defense of their own town's walls. That, too, established the well-disciplined Myuri Mercenary Company as the most suitable for the physical labor.
"It'll be finished by dawn, won't it?"
Based on the expectation that an envoy would be returning with the reply to negotiations with the Debau Company force commanded by the captain of a thousand, Lawrence deduced that it was already near daybreak.
Hilde replied optimistically to Lawrence's question as he beheld the Myuri Mercenary Company's way of working.
"I think it will be all right."
"I'm impressed that you thought of this, though."
Lawrence spoke as he stood beside the entrance of the warehouse-turned-blast furnace, watching the ongoing work.
"I slapped my knee when I realized, you really are resolving things with money."
They were watching the contents being cleaned out, a crack in the furnace being repaired, and the bellows being prepared and the equipment to make the bellows move when Lawrence spoke; Hilde merely laughed a little.
Right beside Lawrence stood a great merchant of which there were few.
That fact loosened Lawrence's tongue a little as he continued.
"I never had any sane notion you'd be using that stamp to remint gold lumion of all things."
For that was indeed what Hilde proposed to do.
Gold lumion were the gold coins with the highest level of purity, so even if reminted, they still retained marvelous value.
But the important thing was, the symbol was the same as the one the Debau Company was using to issue its own currency.
The Debau Company had announced it would issue gold and silver coins, but had not done so with gold coins. Gold coins were far too precious, not something to hand over to the common folk. Besides, each and every coin was a small fortune; even the Debau Company could not withstand issuing gold coins.
And that was why Svernel could issue these gold coins instead.
Since it was impossible to issue a large number of gold coins, it would have no great effect on the Debau Company's coin policies.
However, as a symbol, gold coins were particularly momentous; enough that it would be worth issuing a small trickle of coins on special occasions hereafter.
Therefore, Hilde's proposal was to entrust the town with one of the stamps and to pay it a suitable fee to mint gold coins when an occasion to issue them arose.
Having gone that far, even after Hilde and Debau returned to power at the Debau Company, no harm was likely to come to Svernel.
If the Debau Company, having shown Svernel such favor, treated the town coarsely on some occasion, it would lose trust from all corners of the northlands.
Meaning, Hilde was giving Millike a reason to trust him to ensure the long-term stability of Svernel.
Millike was not someone who would be ignorant of the value of that.

Output:
Hilde, Luward, Lawrence, Holo.
Had a single one been lacking, they would not have arrived at this point.
After a while, Hilde called Lawrence's name. "Mr. Lawrence."
"What is it?"
As Lawrence lifted his eyes, Hilde was watching the Myuri Mercenary Company at work, with Luward letting commands fly. It seemed like he could watch the scene forever when he spoke.
"Would you not come to the Debau Company?"
And as he spoke, Lawrence's gaze turned to him.
It was a mining company of rare size, an incredible company even able to mint a new currency for the northlands.
Setting up a store in Lesko was nowhere on the same scale as being invited in.
But about the same time as Lawrence turned his gaze to Hilde, he saw Luward and the others.
It was a fascinating idea. Surely everyone would say such a thing could not possibly be true for a traveling merchant.
"If I accepted that, every day would be an adventure, wouldn't it?"
"Yes. I guarantee it."
Lawrence replied without hesitation to Hilde's firm words. "That's why I can't." He gave Hilde a strained smile. "If I do that, no one will believe another word I say. I must respectfully decline."
Even without the little details, it was surely clear what he meant.
For a while, Hilde seemed radiant as he looked at Lawrence along with Luward and the others.
"You are probably right."
Then, as if making a complaint, Hilde said this.
"If only I had taken the form of a girl..."
Lawrence could not help himself but laugh at the terrible joke.
After laughing for a while, he gripped the stick that supported him, raising himself up.
"If you took the form of a girl, Holo would probably eat you."
"...I am a hare, after all." Hilde smiled and said, "A pity. Incidentally, where are you going?"
"Back to my room. With my leg I can't even step on the bellows; I'll just be in the way."
As Lawrence spoke, Hilde seemed surprised to the bottom of his heart; indeed, there was anger in his words as he spoke.
"Surely that is not so. Everyone is wounded here. Besides, it is you, Mr. Lawrence, who silenced Yanarkin. If it had not been for you, even Mr. Luward and his men could not have—"
Lawrence made a strained smile and raised a palm at Hilde's vehement protest.
He knew what Hilde was trying to say; he truly wanted Lawrence to be present for the minting of the gold coins.
But Lawrence could not.
He had to finally excuse himself from the banquet.
"If I get in too deep, I'll never be able to pull back."
Hilde seemed to still want to say something in response to Lawrence's words.
However, Hilde knew what was between Lawrence and Holo. It was Hilde, after all, who had convinced Holo that their lives were being jeopardized and that they should flee the town.
Therefore, for Lawrence to flee from this point on should be nothing compared to that.
Even without Lawrence saying any of that, Hilde understood on his own; though it pained him, he nodded.
"I understand. I shall call you when we are ready, then."
"Please do."
With those words, Lawrence clutched his walking stick and departed from the building with the furnace.
The interior of the building was well lit to the point of being dazzling, and thanks to all the hardy men running about, it was rather hot.
Perhaps thanks to that, it was painfully cold outside, and he felt like it was so quiet it made his ears ring.
If he was there, he would have surely relished the zeal of those who had made risky gambles and won.
Even so, that was no longer any place for him.
As Lawrence walked, making step after step with his walking stick, there was someone coming toward him from the other direction. As he wondered who would be out walking at this hour, it turned out to be Holo, carrying a casket of wine.
"Mm? Where are you going, you?"
"That's my line."
As Lawrence spoke, Holo regripped the wine casket and replied, "I was given some wine. I thought I would come have a drink with you."
"I imagined I'd just be in the way, so why not go back to the inn."
"A fine decision by your standards."


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

Input:
Hilde, Luward, Lawrence, Holo.
Had a single one been lacking, they would not have arrived at this point.
After a while, Hilde called Lawrence's name. "Mr. Lawrence."
"What is it?"
As Lawrence lifted his eyes, Hilde was watching the Myuri Mercenary Company at work, with Luward letting commands fly. It seemed like he could watch the scene forever when he spoke.
"Would you not come to the Debau Company?"
And as he spoke, Lawrence's gaze turned to him.
It was a mining company of rare size, an incredible company even able to mint a new currency for the northlands.
Setting up a store in Lesko was nowhere on the same scale as being invited in.
But about the same time as Lawrence turned his gaze to Hilde, he saw Luward and the others.
It was a fascinating idea. Surely everyone would say such a thing could not possibly be true for a traveling merchant.
"If I accepted that, every day would be an adventure, wouldn't it?"
"Yes. I guarantee it."
Lawrence replied without hesitation to Hilde's firm words. "That's why I can't." He gave Hilde a strained smile. "If I do that, no one will believe another word I say. I must respectfully decline."
Even without the little details, it was surely clear what he meant.
For a while, Hilde seemed radiant as he looked at Lawrence along with Luward and the others.
"You are probably right."
Then, as if making a complaint, Hilde said this.
"If only I had taken the form of a girl..."
Lawrence could not help himself but laugh at the terrible joke.
After laughing for a while, he gripped the stick that supported him, raising himself up.
"If you took the form of a girl, Holo would probably eat you."
"...I am a hare, after all." Hilde smiled and said, "A pity. Incidentally, where are you going?"
"Back to my room. With my leg I can't even step on the bellows; I'll just be in the way."
As Lawrence spoke, Hilde seemed surprised to the bottom of his heart; indeed, there was anger in his words as he spoke.
"Surely that is not so. Everyone is wounded here. Besides, it is you, Mr. Lawrence, who silenced Yanarkin. If it had not been for you, even Mr. Luward and his men could not have—"
Lawrence made a strained smile and raised a palm at Hilde's vehement protest.
He knew what Hilde was trying to say; he truly wanted Lawrence to be present for the minting of the gold coins.
But Lawrence could not.
He had to finally excuse himself from the banquet.
"If I get in too deep, I'll never be able to pull back."
Hilde seemed to still want to say something in response to Lawrence's words.
However, Hilde knew what was between Lawrence and Holo. It was Hilde, after all, who had convinced Holo that their lives were being jeopardized and that they should flee the town.
Therefore, for Lawrence to flee from this point on should be nothing compared to that.
Even without Lawrence saying any of that, Hilde understood on his own; though it pained him, he nodded.
"I understand. I shall call you when we are ready, then."
"Please do."
With those words, Lawrence clutched his walking stick and departed from the building with the furnace.
The interior of the building was well lit to the point of being dazzling, and thanks to all the hardy men running about, it was rather hot.
Perhaps thanks to that, it was painfully cold outside, and he felt like it was so quiet it made his ears ring.
If he was there, he would have surely relished the zeal of those who had made risky gambles and won.
Even so, that was no longer any place for him.
As Lawrence walked, making step after step with his walking stick, there was someone coming toward him from the other direction. As he wondered who would be out walking at this hour, it turned out to be Holo, carrying a casket of wine.
"Mm? Where are you going, you?"
"That's my line."
As Lawrence spoke, Holo regripped the wine casket and replied, "I was given some wine. I thought I would come have a drink with you."
"I imagined I'd just be in the way, so why not go back to the inn."
"A fine decision by your standards."

Output:
As a previous offender, Lawrence, scared of the eyes with which Holo was staring at him, strongly and rather transparently changed the subject.
"...You said someone gave you that wine? Who?"
"...Goodness...What's his name, you know, that fool."
Holo did not remember his name. Typical.
"You don't mean Millike?"
As Lawrence spoke, Holo said, "Right, right."
"But why would Millike have wine sent over?"
As Lawrence asked, a somewhat mysterious look came over Holo's face.
"'Tis no problem, is it? Or do you suspect it is poisoned?"
"I suspect no such thing, but..."
Lawrence was not able to grasp how Millike thought at all.
Furthermore, since he was half-man, half-beast, Lawrence wondered what could have happened between him and Hilde as well as Holo that had gone so well.
It was not that he suspected anything untoward, but not being able to fathom it tugged at his mind.
"Walk." Perhaps Lawrence was projecting his thoughts when Holo urged him onward, glancing sideways up at Lawrence in exasperation.
"Come, you. There are many stories and many circumstances that you know not."
That was exceedingly obvious, but what of it?
"When Mr. Hilde went off to speak to him the second time...Come to think of it, you weren't around?" said Lawrence looking back.
Lawrence had been speaking to Moizi and Luward, but Holo could not sit still and said she was heading off to another room to brush her tail.
Holo made a disagreeable-looking face.
So something had happened back then.
"And I was being kind in not saying it," replied Holo.
"Kind?"
"But perhaps it shall serve as a good lesson," Holo muttered in response to Lawrence's doubtful question. "In the end, that fool was protecting a grave."
"Protecting a...grave?"
"Aye. I know not the details, but several decades ago the female he was mated to fell ill and died. As she was born in this town, in this town she rests. He did not have the power to save her, but he hoped she could at least rest in peace. So, Lawrence, does this story not remind you of something similar?"
Holo spoke with a flippant tone, but her face showed no humor at all.
Having one's mate die first, and obstinately protecting the resting place of that mate, struck rather too close to home.
"So, then you..."
"Aye. Well, I'd firmly grasped your hand right in front of a man like that. Small wonder he gave us those dark looks."
Anger, exasperation, perhaps even jealousy.
Regardless, he could not have been able to keep calm.
"But, well, that fool sent word he wished to speak with me through that fool of a hare.
"I did say I was going out."
Like Millike's wife, Lawrence would someday die before Holo did. Be it from old age or disease, perish he would.
That was an unavoidable fact and one Holo certainly understood.
She had experienced it several times before; it was something she had worried about before.
They had arrived this far because then and on other such occasions, Lawrence had taken Holo's hand no matter what. Holo, finally moved by his affection, had taken Lawrence's hand in turn.
He wondered what Holo had said to Millike in light of that.
What kind of words did she offer to Millike, who was protecting the place where his dead wife laid?
Without smiling, Holo spoke curtly.
"I told him...find your next female already, you fool."
***
Lawrence stopped still, staring in shock.
Holo went several steps farther before looking back over her shoulder, a mocking smile coming over her. She giggled. "You really are a charming one."
Then, she walked off, making a cackling laugh all the way.
Certainly, even if his own death made Holo sad, he would want her to laugh once more.
But nor could he stop himself from hoping that, if possible, there would never be another man at her side, stupid as the thought was.
Lawrence walked off once more, following Holo.
"But having said that, I did wander about a wheat field like that, yes? And you, as soon as you start to build a nest, you run off all over the place."


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

Input:
As a previous offender, Lawrence, scared of the eyes with which Holo was staring at him, strongly and rather transparently changed the subject.
"...You said someone gave you that wine? Who?"
"...Goodness...What's his name, you know, that fool."
Holo did not remember his name. Typical.
"You don't mean Millike?"
As Lawrence spoke, Holo said, "Right, right."
"But why would Millike have wine sent over?"
As Lawrence asked, a somewhat mysterious look came over Holo's face.
"'Tis no problem, is it? Or do you suspect it is poisoned?"
"I suspect no such thing, but..."
Lawrence was not able to grasp how Millike thought at all.
Furthermore, since he was half-man, half-beast, Lawrence wondered what could have happened between him and Hilde as well as Holo that had gone so well.
It was not that he suspected anything untoward, but not being able to fathom it tugged at his mind.
"Walk." Perhaps Lawrence was projecting his thoughts when Holo urged him onward, glancing sideways up at Lawrence in exasperation.
"Come, you. There are many stories and many circumstances that you know not."
That was exceedingly obvious, but what of it?
"When Mr. Hilde went off to speak to him the second time...Come to think of it, you weren't around?" said Lawrence looking back.
Lawrence had been speaking to Moizi and Luward, but Holo could not sit still and said she was heading off to another room to brush her tail.
Holo made a disagreeable-looking face.
So something had happened back then.
"And I was being kind in not saying it," replied Holo.
"Kind?"
"But perhaps it shall serve as a good lesson," Holo muttered in response to Lawrence's doubtful question. "In the end, that fool was protecting a grave."
"Protecting a...grave?"
"Aye. I know not the details, but several decades ago the female he was mated to fell ill and died. As she was born in this town, in this town she rests. He did not have the power to save her, but he hoped she could at least rest in peace. So, Lawrence, does this story not remind you of something similar?"
Holo spoke with a flippant tone, but her face showed no humor at all.
Having one's mate die first, and obstinately protecting the resting place of that mate, struck rather too close to home.
"So, then you..."
"Aye. Well, I'd firmly grasped your hand right in front of a man like that. Small wonder he gave us those dark looks."
Anger, exasperation, perhaps even jealousy.
Regardless, he could not have been able to keep calm.
"But, well, that fool sent word he wished to speak with me through that fool of a hare.
"I did say I was going out."
Like Millike's wife, Lawrence would someday die before Holo did. Be it from old age or disease, perish he would.
That was an unavoidable fact and one Holo certainly understood.
She had experienced it several times before; it was something she had worried about before.
They had arrived this far because then and on other such occasions, Lawrence had taken Holo's hand no matter what. Holo, finally moved by his affection, had taken Lawrence's hand in turn.
He wondered what Holo had said to Millike in light of that.
What kind of words did she offer to Millike, who was protecting the place where his dead wife laid?
Without smiling, Holo spoke curtly.
"I told him...find your next female already, you fool."
***
Lawrence stopped still, staring in shock.
Holo went several steps farther before looking back over her shoulder, a mocking smile coming over her. She giggled. "You really are a charming one."
Then, she walked off, making a cackling laugh all the way.
Certainly, even if his own death made Holo sad, he would want her to laugh once more.
But nor could he stop himself from hoping that, if possible, there would never be another man at her side, stupid as the thought was.
Lawrence walked off once more, following Holo.
"But having said that, I did wander about a wheat field like that, yes? And you, as soon as you start to build a nest, you run off all over the place."

Output:
No doubt she had not held the door open entirely on purpose.
Holding his walking stick in the crook of his arm, Lawrence awkwardly opened the door and moved his listless body inside.
"So, because we talked like that, he went out of his way to send wine, which arrived just earlier."
Holo walked briskly, even as Lawrence was largely groping as he walked.
"The two aren't connected."
As he made the obligatory protest, Holo stopped still in the darkness; he felt like she was silently laughing.
Then, she took light, hop-like steps up the stairs.
Lawrence clutched his walking stick and climbed the stairs with his meager endurance.
By the time he arrived at the fourth floor, he was largely out of breath.
"The two are not connected, you say?"
"Wah!"
The sudden voice right before his eyes nearly bowled him over.
Holo guffawed, laughed, and took Lawrence's hand.
But the atmosphere after her laugh was oddly frightening.
***
Lawrence felt like Holo was glaring at him in the darkness, but since he could only make out her silhouette, he was not sure.
It was very similar to the conversation itself.
"We have arrived."
As they entered the room, it was a little brighter due to the wooden shutters being open.
Lawrence, relying on the moonlight, made it to the bed and was finally able to sit down.
As it occurred to him to look up and ask for at least some water, her face was angry enough that he suddenly sat upright.
"So, you."
Her tone of voice was frigid, and her look was truly merciless.
Because Lawrence's back was facing the moon, Holo's eyes received the light, giving off a silvery glint.
"I thought you were not going to lay a hand on anything dangerous again?"
So she was going to bring that up again now?
Besides, how it worked out could not be helped.
As Lawrence's eyes pitifully complained thus, Holo snorted a "hmph," and she pulled back a little.
"Well, certainly it could not be helped there."
That's right, he moved to say, but Holo's sharp eyes shut Lawrence up.
"However, it is a violation of your promise nonetheless. If you get wrapped up in something, it stirs your deep benevolence so that you can't help but stick your nose into it. Certainly, I had fun helping you there beside the window, but come, you, it shall not always go well like that. If you do not take that to heart, you shall truly suffer for it."
He did not know if she meant suffering as a direct result of sticking his nose in or from what Holo would do to him afterward. Probably both.
"And even if you nod now, I cannot trust that..."
He wanted to say, But I turned Hilde down, but that would not build her trust.
One earned trust by making their deeds match their words.
How many times had he spoken to Holo and not come through?
As he thought about that, Lawrence looked up at her like a criminal awaiting judgment.
"But having said that, I am well aware you are honest to the point of foolishness. Therefore, I believe there may be some fault in my methods."
***
As Lawrence's head spun, trying in vain to make sense of it all, Holo spoke in a grandiose tone.
"You seem the sort who will uphold a contract, if not a promise."
"Huh?"
As he spoke without thinking, Holo slapped his cheek hard.
Furthermore, the hand Holo slapped his cheek with pinched it, turning Lawrence to face her.
"I have no idea what that cheeky little girl was thinking to say such a thing but..."
Then, she spoke with annoyance through bared fangs.
Lawrence remembered back to when Holo was digging up the forbidden book back in the snow-covered mountains.
Apparently, when Holo had gone to Kieschen to obtain the forbidden book, Elsa had said something to her there.
What in the world was it, and what did it have to do with them here and now?
Lawrence could not hazard a guess, but there was no mistaking the fact that whatever it was, it had gotten under Holo's skin.
Holo took her hand away from Lawrence's cheek, immediately sandwiching Lawrence's head between both hands.


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

Input:
No doubt she had not held the door open entirely on purpose.
Holding his walking stick in the crook of his arm, Lawrence awkwardly opened the door and moved his listless body inside.
"So, because we talked like that, he went out of his way to send wine, which arrived just earlier."
Holo walked briskly, even as Lawrence was largely groping as he walked.
"The two aren't connected."
As he made the obligatory protest, Holo stopped still in the darkness; he felt like she was silently laughing.
Then, she took light, hop-like steps up the stairs.
Lawrence clutched his walking stick and climbed the stairs with his meager endurance.
By the time he arrived at the fourth floor, he was largely out of breath.
"The two are not connected, you say?"
"Wah!"
The sudden voice right before his eyes nearly bowled him over.
Holo guffawed, laughed, and took Lawrence's hand.
But the atmosphere after her laugh was oddly frightening.
***
Lawrence felt like Holo was glaring at him in the darkness, but since he could only make out her silhouette, he was not sure.
It was very similar to the conversation itself.
"We have arrived."
As they entered the room, it was a little brighter due to the wooden shutters being open.
Lawrence, relying on the moonlight, made it to the bed and was finally able to sit down.
As it occurred to him to look up and ask for at least some water, her face was angry enough that he suddenly sat upright.
"So, you."
Her tone of voice was frigid, and her look was truly merciless.
Because Lawrence's back was facing the moon, Holo's eyes received the light, giving off a silvery glint.
"I thought you were not going to lay a hand on anything dangerous again?"
So she was going to bring that up again now?
Besides, how it worked out could not be helped.
As Lawrence's eyes pitifully complained thus, Holo snorted a "hmph," and she pulled back a little.
"Well, certainly it could not be helped there."
That's right, he moved to say, but Holo's sharp eyes shut Lawrence up.
"However, it is a violation of your promise nonetheless. If you get wrapped up in something, it stirs your deep benevolence so that you can't help but stick your nose into it. Certainly, I had fun helping you there beside the window, but come, you, it shall not always go well like that. If you do not take that to heart, you shall truly suffer for it."
He did not know if she meant suffering as a direct result of sticking his nose in or from what Holo would do to him afterward. Probably both.
"And even if you nod now, I cannot trust that..."
He wanted to say, But I turned Hilde down, but that would not build her trust.
One earned trust by making their deeds match their words.
How many times had he spoken to Holo and not come through?
As he thought about that, Lawrence looked up at her like a criminal awaiting judgment.
"But having said that, I am well aware you are honest to the point of foolishness. Therefore, I believe there may be some fault in my methods."
***
As Lawrence's head spun, trying in vain to make sense of it all, Holo spoke in a grandiose tone.
"You seem the sort who will uphold a contract, if not a promise."
"Huh?"
As he spoke without thinking, Holo slapped his cheek hard.
Furthermore, the hand Holo slapped his cheek with pinched it, turning Lawrence to face her.
"I have no idea what that cheeky little girl was thinking to say such a thing but..."
Then, she spoke with annoyance through bared fangs.
Lawrence remembered back to when Holo was digging up the forbidden book back in the snow-covered mountains.
Apparently, when Holo had gone to Kieschen to obtain the forbidden book, Elsa had said something to her there.
What in the world was it, and what did it have to do with them here and now?
Lawrence could not hazard a guess, but there was no mistaking the fact that whatever it was, it had gotten under Holo's skin.
Holo took her hand away from Lawrence's cheek, immediately sandwiching Lawrence's head between both hands.

Output:
Perhaps that was not so far off the mark.
As Holo gazed straight at Lawrence, she said this.
"She said when 'tis time to take our vows, she would stand witness anytime. The fool."
It was clear that what Elsa, a woman of the Church—albeit a young one—meant by vows was not something to cross Lawrence's lips.
"So, how about it?" Holo asked sourly.
As if she needed to ask.
If that was the contract into which she wanted him to enter, there was no possible reason he could refuse.
Lawrence, gazing at Holo as if entranced by her, nodded.
As he did so Holo, who until this point had eyed Lawrence with suspicion, finally let all the tension ease, as if she was tired.
And after an exhausted sigh, a smile came over her, as if somewhat embarrassed, slowly drawing her face near him.
The moonlight that bathed her face seemed to shroud it in a white veil.
Humans made their vows before God; perhaps wolves made theirs before the moon.
Holo tilted her face ever so slightly, slouching a little.
Her hair gently fell over Lawrence's shoulder and rested upon it.
Lawrence put his trembling hands around Holo's slender hips, but of course Holo did not object.
Holo made a giggle and brought her face close.
Lawrence, anticipating tenderness, matched Holo's movements and slowly closed his eyes.
And.
No matter how long he waited, the expected sensation never came.
"Mm, I forgot something important."
"Ah?"
As Lawrence opened his eyes, Holo briskly raised herself up and turned the other way.
"Er, ah..."
And though Lawrence reached out as Holo pulled away, she slipped from his grasp as if she were an illusion.
When Lawrence tried to get up from the bed, he bent his body from the fierce pain of his thigh.
But fearing the matter would be kicked down the road again, he cast his eyes toward Holo once more.
She giggled. "Can you not make such a face?" Despite her words, her expression made clear to Lawrence that she was thoroughly enjoying watching his pathetic expression.
He wanted to get upset and call her a terrible person, but as he looked at her eyes, he was unable to say the words.
Holo was truly angry that Lawrence had been seduced by the fickle dreams of merchant-kind.
He had promised so many times before, and he still had not learned.
All Lawrence could do was sit on the bed like a dog that had made a mess.
Whew. Holo slapped her hip with her hand and sighed through her nose.
It seemed like they would continue in these roles for good.
"Well, it is the truth I forgot something important. Before forming a new vow, we must carry out the old."
"The old?"
As Lawrence murmured in a daze, he saw Holo's face break into a smile.
"Were you not to bring me to Yoitsu?"
"R-right..."
Even on pain of torture, he would never admit to having completely forgotten about that.
When Holo and Lawrence met, it was under the night sky much like this: the wisewolf, quivering with loneliness and wanting to go home, and the traveling merchant, his mind occupied with counting coins and a burning dream to set up his own store, riding atop an all-too-wide driver's seat.
We certainly make an odd pair, he belatedly thought in hindsight.
As Lawrence, at a loss for words, continued to watch Holo. Her expression finally softened as she looked at the moonlight coming in through the window.
If there was any meaning to it, Lawrence thought that probably it nicely hid her blushing.
"Besides, you have said it before."
"Ah?"
As he asked back, Holo shifted her gaze back to Lawrence, grinning at him as she spoke.
"That there is very deep meaning in bringing one's partner home with you."
Certainly, Lawrence felt like he had said something like that, but he barely remembered it.
But that Holo had remembered him saying something like that made him even happier in a strange way.
Perhaps, just as Lawrence had been in great haste where Holo was concerned, Holo too had leaped from joy to sorrow along with every word Lawrence had spoken.


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

Input:
Perhaps that was not so far off the mark.
As Holo gazed straight at Lawrence, she said this.
"She said when 'tis time to take our vows, she would stand witness anytime. The fool."
It was clear that what Elsa, a woman of the Church—albeit a young one—meant by vows was not something to cross Lawrence's lips.
"So, how about it?" Holo asked sourly.
As if she needed to ask.
If that was the contract into which she wanted him to enter, there was no possible reason he could refuse.
Lawrence, gazing at Holo as if entranced by her, nodded.
As he did so Holo, who until this point had eyed Lawrence with suspicion, finally let all the tension ease, as if she was tired.
And after an exhausted sigh, a smile came over her, as if somewhat embarrassed, slowly drawing her face near him.
The moonlight that bathed her face seemed to shroud it in a white veil.
Humans made their vows before God; perhaps wolves made theirs before the moon.
Holo tilted her face ever so slightly, slouching a little.
Her hair gently fell over Lawrence's shoulder and rested upon it.
Lawrence put his trembling hands around Holo's slender hips, but of course Holo did not object.
Holo made a giggle and brought her face close.
Lawrence, anticipating tenderness, matched Holo's movements and slowly closed his eyes.
And.
No matter how long he waited, the expected sensation never came.
"Mm, I forgot something important."
"Ah?"
As Lawrence opened his eyes, Holo briskly raised herself up and turned the other way.
"Er, ah..."
And though Lawrence reached out as Holo pulled away, she slipped from his grasp as if she were an illusion.
When Lawrence tried to get up from the bed, he bent his body from the fierce pain of his thigh.
But fearing the matter would be kicked down the road again, he cast his eyes toward Holo once more.
She giggled. "Can you not make such a face?" Despite her words, her expression made clear to Lawrence that she was thoroughly enjoying watching his pathetic expression.
He wanted to get upset and call her a terrible person, but as he looked at her eyes, he was unable to say the words.
Holo was truly angry that Lawrence had been seduced by the fickle dreams of merchant-kind.
He had promised so many times before, and he still had not learned.
All Lawrence could do was sit on the bed like a dog that had made a mess.
Whew. Holo slapped her hip with her hand and sighed through her nose.
It seemed like they would continue in these roles for good.
"Well, it is the truth I forgot something important. Before forming a new vow, we must carry out the old."
"The old?"
As Lawrence murmured in a daze, he saw Holo's face break into a smile.
"Were you not to bring me to Yoitsu?"
"R-right..."
Even on pain of torture, he would never admit to having completely forgotten about that.
When Holo and Lawrence met, it was under the night sky much like this: the wisewolf, quivering with loneliness and wanting to go home, and the traveling merchant, his mind occupied with counting coins and a burning dream to set up his own store, riding atop an all-too-wide driver's seat.
We certainly make an odd pair, he belatedly thought in hindsight.
As Lawrence, at a loss for words, continued to watch Holo. Her expression finally softened as she looked at the moonlight coming in through the window.
If there was any meaning to it, Lawrence thought that probably it nicely hid her blushing.
"Besides, you have said it before."
"Ah?"
As he asked back, Holo shifted her gaze back to Lawrence, grinning at him as she spoke.
"That there is very deep meaning in bringing one's partner home with you."
Certainly, Lawrence felt like he had said something like that, but he barely remembered it.
But that Holo had remembered him saying something like that made him even happier in a strange way.
Perhaps, just as Lawrence had been in great haste where Holo was concerned, Holo too had leaped from joy to sorrow along with every word Lawrence had spoken.

Output:
Lawrence smiled as well, able only to sigh.
"Yoitsu. Yoitsu, huh?"
"Indeed. We have postponed it too long."
"Very well...however."
"Mm?" Holo asked back.
Lawrence shifted his gaze to behind Holo as he spoke. "We can at least drink together, can't we?"
He waved behind Holo at the cask of wine Millike had sent over—sent for the purpose of celebration.
"Hmm...well, not that you have the fortitude to keep up with my drinking, after all."
Though a definite slight, even if it did not quite hit the mark, it was not so far off, so he said nothing back.
Holo lifted the wine cask up and placed it on top of the bed, bringing but a single cup over.
Isn't there another one? As Lawrence's eyes searched the room, Holo gave his forehead a small poke.
"You truly have no mind for subtlety..."
Even as Holo scolded him, her tail swayed happily.
She loves me, he realized with maddening intensity.
"Take care not to drink too much."
"To think the day would come when you would warn me about that."
"Fool."
As Holo spoke, she pulled out the cask's cork.
And she had Lawrence hold the cup as she poured wine into it.
That very moment, Lawrence thought that along with the moonlight, some kind of shout was coming in from the window.
Probably, they had lit the furnace and everyone was stepping on the bellows. Here and now, in the depths of the northlands' harsh, long winter, a new gold coin would be minted, stamped with a sun that would light the way for all people.
Luward had said how he liked watching the dawn on a nightlong march, for the sun washed all away.
No doubt the soon-to-be-minted gold coin of the sun would become the herald of the dawn of a new age.
However, Lawrence did not go there to join them, instead staying in the nearly empty inn.
He felt no reluctance or regret about that.
He had wine in his hand, poured by none other than Holo herself.
When Lawrence looked up from the moon reflected in the wine, Holo's smiling face was there to greet him.
She laughed her quiet laugh.
More radiant than any sun or any coin of gold was the smiling face of his beloved.
***
It's been a while. Hasekura here. Volume 16. I believe it was advertised as the final novel of the series. It's been fifteen years since I began writing Spice and Wolf. My main laptop stayed with me until the bitter end without crashing once, but the battery's weak and the fan and so forth are beaten up, so it overheats quickly, and the exterior finish is a mess.
I wrote all sixteen novel manuscripts with this laptop, but just lately, I bought a new one and am using it. Old notebook, your efforts are appreciated.
Now that the series is reaching its end, I thought it's finally time to write an afterword with talk about the work I've never done before. It's just, as I've already been writing Everything Spice and Wolf with each volume, I wanted something more all-inclusive.
The title Spice and Wolf is a twist on French economist Jean Favier's Gold and Spices: The Rise of Commerce in the Middle Ages (translated by Hidemi Uchida). Thinking back to when I read it, I recall thinking I'd love to use things from this, which gave me inspiration for the first volume.
It has been often said that a debut to the light novel genre with an economics theme is a rare thing. Furthermore, though in the fantasy genre, neither swords nor sorcery played any role.
I've been called a fairly twisted person for it, but it's simply where my way of thinking ended up.
In other words, from long ago, many people have used settings with nobles and kings, knights and wizards, demon kings and heroes, including a number of great classics. I wondered if I could wedge myself into all that and win on their terms. For that same reason, I hadn't written much of anything in school.


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

Input:
Lawrence smiled as well, able only to sigh.
"Yoitsu. Yoitsu, huh?"
"Indeed. We have postponed it too long."
"Very well...however."
"Mm?" Holo asked back.
Lawrence shifted his gaze to behind Holo as he spoke. "We can at least drink together, can't we?"
He waved behind Holo at the cask of wine Millike had sent over—sent for the purpose of celebration.
"Hmm...well, not that you have the fortitude to keep up with my drinking, after all."
Though a definite slight, even if it did not quite hit the mark, it was not so far off, so he said nothing back.
Holo lifted the wine cask up and placed it on top of the bed, bringing but a single cup over.
Isn't there another one? As Lawrence's eyes searched the room, Holo gave his forehead a small poke.
"You truly have no mind for subtlety..."
Even as Holo scolded him, her tail swayed happily.
She loves me, he realized with maddening intensity.
"Take care not to drink too much."
"To think the day would come when you would warn me about that."
"Fool."
As Holo spoke, she pulled out the cask's cork.
And she had Lawrence hold the cup as she poured wine into it.
That very moment, Lawrence thought that along with the moonlight, some kind of shout was coming in from the window.
Probably, they had lit the furnace and everyone was stepping on the bellows. Here and now, in the depths of the northlands' harsh, long winter, a new gold coin would be minted, stamped with a sun that would light the way for all people.
Luward had said how he liked watching the dawn on a nightlong march, for the sun washed all away.
No doubt the soon-to-be-minted gold coin of the sun would become the herald of the dawn of a new age.
However, Lawrence did not go there to join them, instead staying in the nearly empty inn.
He felt no reluctance or regret about that.
He had wine in his hand, poured by none other than Holo herself.
When Lawrence looked up from the moon reflected in the wine, Holo's smiling face was there to greet him.
She laughed her quiet laugh.
More radiant than any sun or any coin of gold was the smiling face of his beloved.
***
It's been a while. Hasekura here. Volume 16. I believe it was advertised as the final novel of the series. It's been fifteen years since I began writing Spice and Wolf. My main laptop stayed with me until the bitter end without crashing once, but the battery's weak and the fan and so forth are beaten up, so it overheats quickly, and the exterior finish is a mess.
I wrote all sixteen novel manuscripts with this laptop, but just lately, I bought a new one and am using it. Old notebook, your efforts are appreciated.
Now that the series is reaching its end, I thought it's finally time to write an afterword with talk about the work I've never done before. It's just, as I've already been writing Everything Spice and Wolf with each volume, I wanted something more all-inclusive.
The title Spice and Wolf is a twist on French economist Jean Favier's Gold and Spices: The Rise of Commerce in the Middle Ages (translated by Hidemi Uchida). Thinking back to when I read it, I recall thinking I'd love to use things from this, which gave me inspiration for the first volume.
It has been often said that a debut to the light novel genre with an economics theme is a rare thing. Furthermore, though in the fantasy genre, neither swords nor sorcery played any role.
I've been called a fairly twisted person for it, but it's simply where my way of thinking ended up.
In other words, from long ago, many people have used settings with nobles and kings, knights and wizards, demon kings and heroes, including a number of great classics. I wondered if I could wedge myself into all that and win on their terms. For that same reason, I hadn't written much of anything in school.

Output:
So Spice and Wolf, where neither swords nor sorcery played any role, was the result.
Although I had a fairly firm feeling about what the work would revolve around, I think the books I have read indeed had a large influence on the path leading the main character and the heroine forward, the so-called theme for writing the novel.
In particular, Schopenhauer stands out. I kept thinking, when writing about Holo and Lawrence doing business, whether this was a story that could continue to be a happy one. Schopenhauer is thought of as the incarnation of pessimism, but to me, it is the opposite: The simple fact it was possible for him to continue to be happy while asking such critical questions makes him a fundamentally forward- thinking person in my mind. After all, when Schopenhauer wrote his first book, he said to his mother, then an author, "Decades from now no one will read your book, but mine shall be the basis for a hundred others" (even though Schopenhauer's book was not selling at all), so he was no pessimist.
Also, a tale where the continuation of happiness falls into question seems just the right leg to stand on for the exceptionally long-lived Holo and the bad-at-giving-up merchant Lawrence.
I think that this, the sixteenth novel, is the summation of all that, demonstrating the path that both of them must follow. I believe both Holo and Lawrence will persist in walking that path together.
There may be people wondering, Eh? That's it? Huh? What? and the like. My honorable editor said those things to me, too. But this is my aesthetic...philosophy...and...stuff. If there's one thing about the series I regret, it's that Nyohhira never emerged in a concrete way.
Since I have such feelings remaining, I'm doing a total epilogue for the sequel.
As it will also include works too short to be their own books, I hope all of you who want one more little peek into the world of Spice and Wolf will read and enjoy it! It'll probably be out in early summer.
...But as the world of Spice and Wolf is not about viewing the world in itself, but the "Spice" and "Wolf" (Holo and Lawrence) in it, it's actually the antithesis of that universal metaphor, so in other words... et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseum.
Now, I truly want to thank those who have been wondering, What is Isuna Hasekura going to be doing next? I'm tentatively scheduled to have a new work coming out around summer 2011. There'll be animal ears in the next one, too. Animal ears are my philosophy, y'know. But this won't be a medieval fantasy, or academic work, or science fiction, or a mystery. I intend to write a novel to make people say, Why is it so rare for things like this to come out?
I think that the moon, which played a role in my debut work, will play a large and pivotal role here.
I have a bit more work left for Ayakura-sensei, who keeps drawing those incredibly pretty illustrations, but thank you, Ayakura-sensei! Sensei and Keito Koume are doing a wonderful job drawing the splendid manga version of Spice and Wolf, too. Thanks to all the anime staff and everyone related to Media Mix. Manager T and Manager A, thank you very much. I look forward to your help in the future.
And thank you to all of you readers who have stayed with me until now—truly, thank you all so very much!
—Isuna Hasekura
***
"Ah, Sir Knight. You seem to be in a fine mood."
I heard a voice calling out to me as I lay atop a sunlit stone step.
I have the fine name of Enek, mind you, but it was no bad thing to also be known as Knight. I made a generous sigh through my nostrils and gave a single wave of my tail.
"By the way, is the priest inside?"
Her head wrapped in a towel, both of her sleeves rolled up, the woman was built like a bear.
I seem to recall that she was a cooper—a maker of barrels. By this hour, things had probably calmed down at the morning markets and she was taking a small break until lunch. Perhaps she had even come to offer up a prayer or two.


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

Input:
So Spice and Wolf, where neither swords nor sorcery played any role, was the result.
Although I had a fairly firm feeling about what the work would revolve around, I think the books I have read indeed had a large influence on the path leading the main character and the heroine forward, the so-called theme for writing the novel.
In particular, Schopenhauer stands out. I kept thinking, when writing about Holo and Lawrence doing business, whether this was a story that could continue to be a happy one. Schopenhauer is thought of as the incarnation of pessimism, but to me, it is the opposite: The simple fact it was possible for him to continue to be happy while asking such critical questions makes him a fundamentally forward- thinking person in my mind. After all, when Schopenhauer wrote his first book, he said to his mother, then an author, "Decades from now no one will read your book, but mine shall be the basis for a hundred others" (even though Schopenhauer's book was not selling at all), so he was no pessimist.
Also, a tale where the continuation of happiness falls into question seems just the right leg to stand on for the exceptionally long-lived Holo and the bad-at-giving-up merchant Lawrence.
I think that this, the sixteenth novel, is the summation of all that, demonstrating the path that both of them must follow. I believe both Holo and Lawrence will persist in walking that path together.
There may be people wondering, Eh? That's it? Huh? What? and the like. My honorable editor said those things to me, too. But this is my aesthetic...philosophy...and...stuff. If there's one thing about the series I regret, it's that Nyohhira never emerged in a concrete way.
Since I have such feelings remaining, I'm doing a total epilogue for the sequel.
As it will also include works too short to be their own books, I hope all of you who want one more little peek into the world of Spice and Wolf will read and enjoy it! It'll probably be out in early summer.
...But as the world of Spice and Wolf is not about viewing the world in itself, but the "Spice" and "Wolf" (Holo and Lawrence) in it, it's actually the antithesis of that universal metaphor, so in other words... et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, ad nauseum.
Now, I truly want to thank those who have been wondering, What is Isuna Hasekura going to be doing next? I'm tentatively scheduled to have a new work coming out around summer 2011. There'll be animal ears in the next one, too. Animal ears are my philosophy, y'know. But this won't be a medieval fantasy, or academic work, or science fiction, or a mystery. I intend to write a novel to make people say, Why is it so rare for things like this to come out?
I think that the moon, which played a role in my debut work, will play a large and pivotal role here.
I have a bit more work left for Ayakura-sensei, who keeps drawing those incredibly pretty illustrations, but thank you, Ayakura-sensei! Sensei and Keito Koume are doing a wonderful job drawing the splendid manga version of Spice and Wolf, too. Thanks to all the anime staff and everyone related to Media Mix. Manager T and Manager A, thank you very much. I look forward to your help in the future.
And thank you to all of you readers who have stayed with me until now—truly, thank you all so very much!
—Isuna Hasekura
***
"Ah, Sir Knight. You seem to be in a fine mood."
I heard a voice calling out to me as I lay atop a sunlit stone step.
I have the fine name of Enek, mind you, but it was no bad thing to also be known as Knight. I made a generous sigh through my nostrils and gave a single wave of my tail.
"By the way, is the priest inside?"
Her head wrapped in a towel, both of her sleeves rolled up, the woman was built like a bear.
I seem to recall that she was a cooper—a maker of barrels. By this hour, things had probably calmed down at the morning markets and she was taking a small break until lunch. Perhaps she had even come to offer up a prayer or two.

Output:
"Someone said a horse-drawn carriage arrived where the children play on the hill, so I thought, maybe it's the one the priest mentioned."
***
Somehow, I kept my eyelids—heavy and ready to close even now—in check as I looked at the woman.
"Goodness," she said, rising and returning to the church. "But you know, the children said it was a pitch-black carriage...As if it was haunted. I wonder if it's all right..."
It was clear that the woman's doubt and curiosity were dueling within her as she followed the path, which I led her down.
She may have looked like a bear, but her personality was closer to that of a cat.
"What will you do, Sir Knight? Coming with me?" The humans of this town spoke readily to me, but I would never last if I answered them all.
Ignoring her, I walked to the middle of the corridor as far as the scribe room. It was the room where the priest of this church wrote important books and letters.
Though things had been busy but a short time ago with harvest festivals and saintly blessings, it was all peace and quiet now.
Having said that, there were not many people who wrote, and what few there were had a mountain of duties to fulfill. Today, too, he was surely writing up a storm in that scribe room.
If things were as expected, that is.
"Reverend, it seems that a horse-drawn carriage has—"
The woman made a light knock, half opening the door and speaking as she entered the room.
She seemed to swallow her words in a largely instinctive reaction. My master, loftily addressed as "Reverend," was bent over her desk, fast asleep. It had recently become rather warm. It was hard work to even get out of bed.
Even so, though her back and hair had grown somewhat, she still looked like a child as she slept.
I cleared my throat.
"Woof!"
"...Hunh!?"
As my master awoke, she sat up in a great hurry. Her eyes darted all around the area and noticed myself and the woman standing in the doorway. Though there was a mountain of papers and books atop her desk, along with clothing and the tools of a tailor placed atop it.
"Ah, Miss Rifkin...Ah, er...Ha-ha..." Like a child she tried to push the clothing and the tailoring tools into the middle of the desk as if she meant to hide them.
It was rather frivolous behavior for someone in the service of God. Despite the passage of some number of years, my master still had not quite been able to outgrow a certain childishness.
"Oh, I am not upset."
The woman made a teasing smile. My master's body seemed to shrink in embarrassment, but as she met my eyes, she made a somewhat resentful glare. It was highly illogical to act as if it were my fault.
"Ah, so, what is it? If it's preparations for the guild's Guardian Saint Festival, I'm hiring Mr. Botz to take care of it..."
"Oh, not that. There seems to be a horse-drawn carriage coming into town. I thought this might be the one you mentioned so I thought I'd let you know."
"...Carriage?"
"Yes. You mentioned it yourself. Something about having been called to somewhere a bit far off..."
"..." My master gazed at the woman in shock, and then, she suddenly opened her mouth wide, sucking in her breath. "I thought it'd be next w...Ah, er, sorry, if you'll excuse me!"
Pulling up the hem of her long outfit, she ran out of the room in decidedly unladylike fashion.
The woman laughed heartily, holding her belly as if keeping it from dropping.
I had the vague feeling that my master had been more reliable when she had been a shepherdess.
Norah the Fairy.
That had been my master's old name when she was a shepherdess for a time, highly skilled at leading sheep.
Now, though, she was the priest of a church in a small town leading a different kind of flock.
One never knew what might happen in this world.
Born the overly serious sort, she had cut her teeth in a place of solemn masses and festivals, making her a fairly sharp person.


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

Input:
"Someone said a horse-drawn carriage arrived where the children play on the hill, so I thought, maybe it's the one the priest mentioned."
***
Somehow, I kept my eyelids—heavy and ready to close even now—in check as I looked at the woman.
"Goodness," she said, rising and returning to the church. "But you know, the children said it was a pitch-black carriage...As if it was haunted. I wonder if it's all right..."
It was clear that the woman's doubt and curiosity were dueling within her as she followed the path, which I led her down.
She may have looked like a bear, but her personality was closer to that of a cat.
"What will you do, Sir Knight? Coming with me?" The humans of this town spoke readily to me, but I would never last if I answered them all.
Ignoring her, I walked to the middle of the corridor as far as the scribe room. It was the room where the priest of this church wrote important books and letters.
Though things had been busy but a short time ago with harvest festivals and saintly blessings, it was all peace and quiet now.
Having said that, there were not many people who wrote, and what few there were had a mountain of duties to fulfill. Today, too, he was surely writing up a storm in that scribe room.
If things were as expected, that is.
"Reverend, it seems that a horse-drawn carriage has—"
The woman made a light knock, half opening the door and speaking as she entered the room.
She seemed to swallow her words in a largely instinctive reaction. My master, loftily addressed as "Reverend," was bent over her desk, fast asleep. It had recently become rather warm. It was hard work to even get out of bed.
Even so, though her back and hair had grown somewhat, she still looked like a child as she slept.
I cleared my throat.
"Woof!"
"...Hunh!?"
As my master awoke, she sat up in a great hurry. Her eyes darted all around the area and noticed myself and the woman standing in the doorway. Though there was a mountain of papers and books atop her desk, along with clothing and the tools of a tailor placed atop it.
"Ah, Miss Rifkin...Ah, er...Ha-ha..." Like a child she tried to push the clothing and the tailoring tools into the middle of the desk as if she meant to hide them.
It was rather frivolous behavior for someone in the service of God. Despite the passage of some number of years, my master still had not quite been able to outgrow a certain childishness.
"Oh, I am not upset."
The woman made a teasing smile. My master's body seemed to shrink in embarrassment, but as she met my eyes, she made a somewhat resentful glare. It was highly illogical to act as if it were my fault.
"Ah, so, what is it? If it's preparations for the guild's Guardian Saint Festival, I'm hiring Mr. Botz to take care of it..."
"Oh, not that. There seems to be a horse-drawn carriage coming into town. I thought this might be the one you mentioned so I thought I'd let you know."
"...Carriage?"
"Yes. You mentioned it yourself. Something about having been called to somewhere a bit far off..."
"..." My master gazed at the woman in shock, and then, she suddenly opened her mouth wide, sucking in her breath. "I thought it'd be next w...Ah, er, sorry, if you'll excuse me!"
Pulling up the hem of her long outfit, she ran out of the room in decidedly unladylike fashion.
The woman laughed heartily, holding her belly as if keeping it from dropping.
I had the vague feeling that my master had been more reliable when she had been a shepherdess.
Norah the Fairy.
That had been my master's old name when she was a shepherdess for a time, highly skilled at leading sheep.
Now, though, she was the priest of a church in a small town leading a different kind of flock.
One never knew what might happen in this world.
Born the overly serious sort, she had cut her teeth in a place of solemn masses and festivals, making her a fairly sharp person.

Output:
The date, math, people's names, prayer phrases, ceremonial protocol—in spite of having an eye-popping grasp of the broad outlines, she tended to lose track of the small details.
It was a pitiable thing that were I not by her side, no one would call her an adult.
"Errr...clothes, food, ah, I'd better have a book of scripture, too. Also a prayer book...ah? Maybe I should bring several pairs of boots? But I haven't worn boots since way back...I wonder why..."
As she used her hand to comb down her blond hair, which ran down to the middle of her back, she feverishly prepared the luggage strewn about before her. My master pulled out the clothes she had worn when she came to this town, but I wondered what she intended to do with them, since it was clear it was not the right size.
I lay on my belly at the doorway as I sighed an exasperated sigh.
"Ahh, er, bring the letter, er, and then, and then..."
She had never been at a loss about what to bring when leading sheep out of the pastures.
Perhaps the Church was right to teach that one should discard one's belongings and pass them to those who lacked their own. It was an abundance of things, which made one hesitate in the face of a journey. That was all the truer for life itself.
I snorted another sigh, and my master noticed and looked at me.
By the time I thought, Uh-oh, a rolled-up apron was already sailing toward me.
"It must be nice to be so carefree, Enek!"
They were words I had heard from time to time during the five years since we had come to live in this town.
Of course, it was not so at all.
It was just that it mattered far more to me whether I was getting a cut of meat for supper that day than whether the day's mass had gone well or not.
As my master scurried about the room like a human storm, I crawled out from under the apron, sniffing for my master's scent, when my ears caught the sound of someone knocking at the entrance of the church.
I could tell most of the townspeople apart by their knocks.
I did not know this knock.
A guest had arrived from the outside.
It might have been just as well to call her an emissary from hell.
A throng of people had formed on the street in front of the church.
For a time, plague had reduced this town to a veritable town of the dead, but the brave few who remained, those who refused to give up, and the assistance of my master, had brought the town back to a fairly lively state.
It was not that someone coming from outside town was all that rare a sight. There were times when a caravan of merchants would pass through, with dozens of men mounted on horses. But what had caught the attention of the crowd was the majestic appearance of the entirely too-fine black horses and the pitch-black canopied carriage they were pulling. There was a separate wagon for carrying luggage, with six stout men escorting it all.
My master was seized by shock the moment she set foot out of the entrance of the church and saw the carriage.
Then, she desperately tried to comb her hair into place with her hand, but it was a complete waste of time, as it had always been fairly wavy to begin with. Besides, considering the person who came out of the carriage, one could only call my master's efforts to hand comb her own hair pathetic by comparison.
A tall woman was not such a rare sight.
Nonetheless, it was rare to see one possessed by such dignity.
"Eve Bolan."
The woman spoke her name. Her back was straight and tall; her body was slender. But thin was not the most accurate word; rather, it was as if a sculptor had thoroughly scraped away everything unnecessary. The fragrance about her was decidedly feminine, but for the first time in quite a while, my nose caught the scent of a beast that roamed the plains.
"Ah...err..."


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

Input:
The date, math, people's names, prayer phrases, ceremonial protocol—in spite of having an eye-popping grasp of the broad outlines, she tended to lose track of the small details.
It was a pitiable thing that were I not by her side, no one would call her an adult.
"Errr...clothes, food, ah, I'd better have a book of scripture, too. Also a prayer book...ah? Maybe I should bring several pairs of boots? But I haven't worn boots since way back...I wonder why..."
As she used her hand to comb down her blond hair, which ran down to the middle of her back, she feverishly prepared the luggage strewn about before her. My master pulled out the clothes she had worn when she came to this town, but I wondered what she intended to do with them, since it was clear it was not the right size.
I lay on my belly at the doorway as I sighed an exasperated sigh.
"Ahh, er, bring the letter, er, and then, and then..."
She had never been at a loss about what to bring when leading sheep out of the pastures.
Perhaps the Church was right to teach that one should discard one's belongings and pass them to those who lacked their own. It was an abundance of things, which made one hesitate in the face of a journey. That was all the truer for life itself.
I snorted another sigh, and my master noticed and looked at me.
By the time I thought, Uh-oh, a rolled-up apron was already sailing toward me.
"It must be nice to be so carefree, Enek!"
They were words I had heard from time to time during the five years since we had come to live in this town.
Of course, it was not so at all.
It was just that it mattered far more to me whether I was getting a cut of meat for supper that day than whether the day's mass had gone well or not.
As my master scurried about the room like a human storm, I crawled out from under the apron, sniffing for my master's scent, when my ears caught the sound of someone knocking at the entrance of the church.
I could tell most of the townspeople apart by their knocks.
I did not know this knock.
A guest had arrived from the outside.
It might have been just as well to call her an emissary from hell.
A throng of people had formed on the street in front of the church.
For a time, plague had reduced this town to a veritable town of the dead, but the brave few who remained, those who refused to give up, and the assistance of my master, had brought the town back to a fairly lively state.
It was not that someone coming from outside town was all that rare a sight. There were times when a caravan of merchants would pass through, with dozens of men mounted on horses. But what had caught the attention of the crowd was the majestic appearance of the entirely too-fine black horses and the pitch-black canopied carriage they were pulling. There was a separate wagon for carrying luggage, with six stout men escorting it all.
My master was seized by shock the moment she set foot out of the entrance of the church and saw the carriage.
Then, she desperately tried to comb her hair into place with her hand, but it was a complete waste of time, as it had always been fairly wavy to begin with. Besides, considering the person who came out of the carriage, one could only call my master's efforts to hand comb her own hair pathetic by comparison.
A tall woman was not such a rare sight.
Nonetheless, it was rare to see one possessed by such dignity.
"Eve Bolan."
The woman spoke her name. Her back was straight and tall; her body was slender. But thin was not the most accurate word; rather, it was as if a sculptor had thoroughly scraped away everything unnecessary. The fragrance about her was decidedly feminine, but for the first time in quite a while, my nose caught the scent of a beast that roamed the plains.
"Ah...err..."

Output:
Though my master had straightened her posture appreciably, this Eve was clearly an entire hand taller than her. Besides, she was overwhelmed for a number of reasons other than height. Though my master had put a fair bit of meat on her in the last five years, the woman before her came off like a wolf in her prime. Perhaps it was the combined effect of the swell of her bust and the curve of her back.
Eve, seeming like a noble who adorned herself with a fur coat regardless of the weather, looked over my master from head to toe and made a small sigh. "So she really..."
"Huh?"
As my master murmured back, Eve blinked her eyelashes, which were so long I expected to actually hear them. "Nothing. It seems best if I take care of all the necessities. If you get lonely at night, all you need bring is a book of scripture. There are other places we're stopping at, just like the letter said. We're leaving today."
Upon finishing her statement, the woman calling herself Eve returned to the carriage.
Left behind, my master stood still for a while, then looked at me.
As it was too much trouble for me to bark, I snorted a sigh.
Apparently Eve did business in a country to the south.
Though I could only venture to guess as to the size of her business, my experience suggested it was considerable.
The horse-drawn carriage was wide enough to comfortably seat three adults, with two seats of that width facing each other. The seats and their backs had many lines on them and had been adorned with fabrics and delicate ornaments. In spite of my master's resolve to live for the sake of the townspeople, she had retained a lingering affection for sewing and so took great interest in those details.
For my part, I had rarely laid eyes upon clothing such as that in which Eve clothed herself. A very comfortable-seeming piece of clothing, it resembled a robe, but differed in many of the fine details. Perhaps responding to my master's furtive glances, the reticent Eve said only, "It's from a desert country."
From there, it was a peaceful trip.
Eve was a woman of few words by nature; my master was not the type to make proactive conversation, either. As my master had procured Eve's permission, I rose up onto the seat and gazed out the window, with her hand stroking my head the whole time.
When she had been a shepherd, even once we left the town gates, it was not a vast, borderless expanse that greeted us. Indeed, the land was more like a fearsome prison, for no matter where we went, nothing would change.
I would have been content living in the forest.
But my master, a human being, could only live among others of her kind; as a dog, I was painfully aware of just how difficult it was to live in that world.
With no help from anyone, one's days were filled only with getting the food before one's eyes into one's own mouth, and there was scant likelihood of anything changing until one last drew breath.
When my master slept upon bales of straw at the sheep pen, gazing up at the moon as mice and insects scurried about her, she may not have voiced such thoughts, but she had no doubt had them.
And then a single chance meeting changed everything.
From that alone, my master's life was changed forever.
There are many who run with all their might. However, many see their legs fail them. And yet, if only there was someone to give them a little push from behind, that is all it would take for them to move forward, too.
And so my fortunate master was able to run until she arrived in a new land.
"Anxious to be heading out?"
It was the second day since we had left.
"Hm?"
"It's not often that a town priest leaves on a journey, after all."
Making a flourish with her pen at the end, she double-checked the text before extending the letter out of the open wooden shutter. As she did so, a human standing and waiting outside took it, folded it, sealed it, and began riding in a direction different from our own.
The woman returned to the same subject.