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

Input:
Even an abbey could not completely sever itself from the outside world, and those connections meant it was impossible to avoid accommodating the world's ways.
And their predicament was worse than Lawrence had guessed.
"They've amassed a huge fortune thanks to their wool sales, so they've plenty of men able to figure profit and loss. And I'm sure there are some among them who would like to reach a realistic compromise. But still, the council remains united in its rejection of the alliance's requests."
"And you believe that solidarity is because of some peculiar conviction?"
Without support of some kind, they wouldn't have been able to continue resisting—particularly if their group contained more than one opinion. If they had united in defense of God's glory, Lawrence doubted Piasky would have expressed such doubts.
While it contained men who loved money, the abbey also had those whose prayers were genuine. And yet obtaining a decision was proving impossible, much to the frustration of the alliance.
"Heavy investment in a holy relic would fit the circumstances. The devout among them would accept it, and if it could be turned to profit, it would be the perfect support during this difficult time. So if we can simply find what they're clinging to and take it from them, I believe they will crumble."
It was a very direct strategy.
But when Lawrence looked at Holo and Col, he saw a glimmer of an idea deep in the pair's eyes, despite their appearing to find nothing of interest on the parchment.
The story of the wolf bones—if it were more than a simple tale spoken of during drunken tavern conversations, it would fit Piasky's theory perfectly.
"I believe it's a good idea...and the idea that with so many fakes in the world no one would possibly put their faith in a relic would serve as good cover."
"Indeed...you're quite right."
Lawrence said nothing about the wolf bones because, given the circumstances, doing so would only weaken his position. His opponent was the Ruvik Alliance, to whose power the port town of Kerube could hardly compare.
If he slipped up and got involved with them, it was unlikely he would escape unscathed.
Col and Holo, too, seemed to understand this.
He looked down at the parchment again.
"To tell the truth, after your visit last night, Mr. Lawrence, I was so excited I could hardly sleep." Sitting in his chair, Piasky smiled a self-deprecating smile. It was as though he was finally showing the exhaustion he'd been hiding all along.
Piasky's words a moment earlier—"We looked over that list countless times"—came to Lawrence's mind, albeit with a slightly different meaning this time. He imagined Piasky up late at night, poring over the paragraphs by candlelight.
"Any clues that would break this deadlock would be more precious than any gospel to us. I can't describe to you the sense of futility I felt after checking over that parchment again and again. And yet I thought perhaps...perhaps you or your companions might be able to help. Hence my ulterior motive in showing it to you."
"I'm sorry we couldn't be of any use."
Piasky and Lawrence both laughed at these words.
A baker might sell bread at his shop's counter from birth till death, but merchants spent their lives swinging between extremes of hope and disappointment—yet undaunted always tended toward hope.
But something bothered Lawrence, so he asked about it. "This is a rather boorish question, but..."
"Yes?"
"If the alliance is really able to buy the abbey's land, will it be so profitable?"
The Ruvik Alliance had not been formed to pursue the meager profits of a small-town trading company.
They commanded trading vessels and warships, and if a town was imposing tariffs to protect their own merchants, the alliance could use sheer force of arms to open that town's gates.
Lawrence had heard of many transactions the alliance had conducted, each one so large as to make one wonder if there could really be so much money in the world.

Output:
Just how would it be realized?
Piasky smiled a bit bashfully and scratched his nose with a finger. "I myself can't imagine the exact number of coins. But one thing I can say, it would profit many, many people."
Unable to imagine it, Lawrence repeated Piasky's words. "Many people?"
It was true that the alliance contained many people, so that was true as far as it went, but it still seemed like a strange choice of words.
"Indeed. I assume you are aware of the general idea of what we're trying to do here, yes?"
"You're trying to purchase the stricken abbey's landholdings, then use that to bring around the nobility, allowing you to participate in kingdom politics."
"Exactly so. However, if we simply handed the purchased land over to the nobility, they'd just squander it—on daily extravagances or on lavish donations to churches or abbeys, either for appearances or out of a sense of piety. Or in the long run, it would simply be divided into smaller and smaller pieces over the generations until they fell into ruin. Neither they nor we profit that way. So to avoid that, people like me have been summoned."
Piasky spoke in an even, patient tone. It was not because he was used to talking about this, nor because he was used to explaining things, nor even owing to his natural inclinations.
It was simple confidence—the singular calm that comes when one has pride in one's work.
Holo noticed this and looked up.
Lawrence finally understood why he had been fixated on Piasky. Piasky had the firm footing of the peerless master craftsman, and Lawrence could not help but feel nervous around him.
"We plan to take ownership of the abbey, buying up its unused lands and allowing people to immigrate there. We're going to make villages and towns."
Lawrence considered the piles of documents in Piasky's office and the room adjacent to it. This place was essentially an atelier for people like him.
"Since the abbey's left the land fallow, most of the landed gentry haven't been able to bring in adequate earnings or even provide farmers with enough land to live on. On the mainland, war, famine, or floods have driven countless people from their homes. With no work or money, they have no choice but to either beg or steal. The more such people there are, the greater the threat to stability."
"So your alliance is going to lead such people to a new land, giving them a place to live and work, while at the same time putting in your debt the landlords whose holdings are plagued with vagrants."
"Yes. It will improve the situation for both sides. And it's not simply about money. It may sound arrogant of me to say so, but when you've experienced giving a new home to someone who's lost theirs..."
Insincerity and charity were a hair's breadth apart. The smile of one who understood that truth was a pleasantly wry one.
"...You can't stop. It's enough to make you pore over a parchment, looking for the tiniest hint or clue."
Holo's hand had stilled, and she listened intently to Piasky. Lawrence could hardly blame her.
Holo had claimed not to care about Piasky's work, but if she were really so myopic, then all her laments over the course of their travels had been lies.
Beneath the parchment, Col grasped Holo's hand steadfastly.
"Some immigrants were scattered from their homes when pirates razed their village. Stolen from their families, they thought they would never see their loved ones again—but upon hearing of the immigration, they journey to the new village and are reunited. That's why I cannot stop. Such things do happen."
In fact, they happened regularly and were not at all uncommon.


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

Input:
Just how would it be realized?
Piasky smiled a bit bashfully and scratched his nose with a finger. "I myself can't imagine the exact number of coins. But one thing I can say, it would profit many, many people."
Unable to imagine it, Lawrence repeated Piasky's words. "Many people?"
It was true that the alliance contained many people, so that was true as far as it went, but it still seemed like a strange choice of words.
"Indeed. I assume you are aware of the general idea of what we're trying to do here, yes?"
"You're trying to purchase the stricken abbey's landholdings, then use that to bring around the nobility, allowing you to participate in kingdom politics."
"Exactly so. However, if we simply handed the purchased land over to the nobility, they'd just squander it—on daily extravagances or on lavish donations to churches or abbeys, either for appearances or out of a sense of piety. Or in the long run, it would simply be divided into smaller and smaller pieces over the generations until they fell into ruin. Neither they nor we profit that way. So to avoid that, people like me have been summoned."
Piasky spoke in an even, patient tone. It was not because he was used to talking about this, nor because he was used to explaining things, nor even owing to his natural inclinations.
It was simple confidence—the singular calm that comes when one has pride in one's work.
Holo noticed this and looked up.
Lawrence finally understood why he had been fixated on Piasky. Piasky had the firm footing of the peerless master craftsman, and Lawrence could not help but feel nervous around him.
"We plan to take ownership of the abbey, buying up its unused lands and allowing people to immigrate there. We're going to make villages and towns."
Lawrence considered the piles of documents in Piasky's office and the room adjacent to it. This place was essentially an atelier for people like him.
"Since the abbey's left the land fallow, most of the landed gentry haven't been able to bring in adequate earnings or even provide farmers with enough land to live on. On the mainland, war, famine, or floods have driven countless people from their homes. With no work or money, they have no choice but to either beg or steal. The more such people there are, the greater the threat to stability."
"So your alliance is going to lead such people to a new land, giving them a place to live and work, while at the same time putting in your debt the landlords whose holdings are plagued with vagrants."
"Yes. It will improve the situation for both sides. And it's not simply about money. It may sound arrogant of me to say so, but when you've experienced giving a new home to someone who's lost theirs..."
Insincerity and charity were a hair's breadth apart. The smile of one who understood that truth was a pleasantly wry one.
"...You can't stop. It's enough to make you pore over a parchment, looking for the tiniest hint or clue."
Holo's hand had stilled, and she listened intently to Piasky. Lawrence could hardly blame her.
Holo had claimed not to care about Piasky's work, but if she were really so myopic, then all her laments over the course of their travels had been lies.
Beneath the parchment, Col grasped Holo's hand steadfastly.
"Some immigrants were scattered from their homes when pirates razed their village. Stolen from their families, they thought they would never see their loved ones again—but upon hearing of the immigration, they journey to the new village and are reunited. That's why I cannot stop. Such things do happen."
In fact, they happened regularly and were not at all uncommon.

Output:
And such stories were not limited to humans.
Holo, too, was one such wanderer; in that moment her face looked like a statue, and if Lawrence had touched her cheek, he was quite sure that tears would have flowed freely.
"Because it involves so many people, there's naturally profit to be had. Anybody affiliated with the alliance is treated well when they arrive in towns the alliance founded. But it's not just that. Anyone who's traveled about doing business is especially sensitive to the word homeland. There's a sentimental reason we've fixed so stubbornly upon the abbey. If it were just for ourselves, we could hardly persevere so mightily. It's because we wish to help others."
These last words rang almost painfully true to Lawrence.
It was because of Holo that he had been able to come this far.
"Ha-ha—I've bored you with my blathering."
"Not at all," said Lawrence in response to Piasky's self-deprecating smile. "Not at all. I understand. I'm the same way."
The instant Lawrence said as much, Piasky seemed to grasp why he was traveling in this queer little trio of his. Piasky looked at Holo and Col in turn, both of whom smiled sheepishly back.
Piasky nodded, speaking slowly. "If you don't mind my asking, might I inquire as to your homeland?"
"They're both from the north. On the mainland. From different places, though."
Piasky neither widened his eyes in surprise nor made any expression of sympathy. Instead, he asked a sincere question, one merchant to another.
"And you're after the treasures of your home, then?"
With war came plunder, and the Church's suppression of the pagans was no different from any other war. There were no small number of pagan items that once taken came to be highly valued as holy relics. Indeed, it was owing to the high probability of recovering such plunder that the Church kept sending forces in to quell the pagans.
"Essentially, yes. They're searching for traces of their homelands, and I need their knowledge. It's something of a miracle that I encountered them at all."
"I see...So, you found a patron to fund your investigation, and the two of them found a guide. Fate certainly is a mysterious thing."
"Though it's hard to know whether I should thank the heavens for it or not."
Piasky forced a grin at the joke, which at the very least was hardly suitable for an abbey. Such forbidden humor was all the more amusing for its inappropriateness.
"My apologies. Still...if that's the case, I won't hesitate to help you. Please, feel free to ask anything of me."
"Showing us what you have is already more than enough. My thanks to you."
Piasky wasn't being so accommodating simply because he was an excellent merchant. It was because, Lawrence was sure, he was a genuinely kind person.
"I hope you find what you're looking for," said Piasky, as though he couldn't help expressing the sentiment.
It was clear to Lawrence that Piasky had his current job not out of love of profit, nor even out of a desire to be thanked by others.
Though it pained him to admit it, Lawrence was no match for the man. And he realized that Holo had noticed this the moment she met him.
What if she'd met him first?
Lawrence was not confident enough in himself to stop the thought.
There was a knock at the door, and when Piasky opened it, it appeared to be a messenger from the alliance. While Lawrence didn't intend to listen in, the conversation came to his ears nonetheless—it seemed Piasky was being summoned.
Piasky gave the messenger his reply and then turned around. "You'll have to excuse me. It seems I'm being called."
As far as the alliance's reasons for coming to the abbey went, this building held the most significant of them. Lawrence and his companions could hardly remain there without Piasky to accompany them.
Lawrence carefully took the parchment from Holo and Col and then returned it to Piasky with a bow. "You've been a great help to us."
"Not at all. This is the least I can do, and I'll happily do it again."


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

Input:
And such stories were not limited to humans.
Holo, too, was one such wanderer; in that moment her face looked like a statue, and if Lawrence had touched her cheek, he was quite sure that tears would have flowed freely.
"Because it involves so many people, there's naturally profit to be had. Anybody affiliated with the alliance is treated well when they arrive in towns the alliance founded. But it's not just that. Anyone who's traveled about doing business is especially sensitive to the word homeland. There's a sentimental reason we've fixed so stubbornly upon the abbey. If it were just for ourselves, we could hardly persevere so mightily. It's because we wish to help others."
These last words rang almost painfully true to Lawrence.
It was because of Holo that he had been able to come this far.
"Ha-ha—I've bored you with my blathering."
"Not at all," said Lawrence in response to Piasky's self-deprecating smile. "Not at all. I understand. I'm the same way."
The instant Lawrence said as much, Piasky seemed to grasp why he was traveling in this queer little trio of his. Piasky looked at Holo and Col in turn, both of whom smiled sheepishly back.
Piasky nodded, speaking slowly. "If you don't mind my asking, might I inquire as to your homeland?"
"They're both from the north. On the mainland. From different places, though."
Piasky neither widened his eyes in surprise nor made any expression of sympathy. Instead, he asked a sincere question, one merchant to another.
"And you're after the treasures of your home, then?"
With war came plunder, and the Church's suppression of the pagans was no different from any other war. There were no small number of pagan items that once taken came to be highly valued as holy relics. Indeed, it was owing to the high probability of recovering such plunder that the Church kept sending forces in to quell the pagans.
"Essentially, yes. They're searching for traces of their homelands, and I need their knowledge. It's something of a miracle that I encountered them at all."
"I see...So, you found a patron to fund your investigation, and the two of them found a guide. Fate certainly is a mysterious thing."
"Though it's hard to know whether I should thank the heavens for it or not."
Piasky forced a grin at the joke, which at the very least was hardly suitable for an abbey. Such forbidden humor was all the more amusing for its inappropriateness.
"My apologies. Still...if that's the case, I won't hesitate to help you. Please, feel free to ask anything of me."
"Showing us what you have is already more than enough. My thanks to you."
Piasky wasn't being so accommodating simply because he was an excellent merchant. It was because, Lawrence was sure, he was a genuinely kind person.
"I hope you find what you're looking for," said Piasky, as though he couldn't help expressing the sentiment.
It was clear to Lawrence that Piasky had his current job not out of love of profit, nor even out of a desire to be thanked by others.
Though it pained him to admit it, Lawrence was no match for the man. And he realized that Holo had noticed this the moment she met him.
What if she'd met him first?
Lawrence was not confident enough in himself to stop the thought.
There was a knock at the door, and when Piasky opened it, it appeared to be a messenger from the alliance. While Lawrence didn't intend to listen in, the conversation came to his ears nonetheless—it seemed Piasky was being summoned.
Piasky gave the messenger his reply and then turned around. "You'll have to excuse me. It seems I'm being called."
As far as the alliance's reasons for coming to the abbey went, this building held the most significant of them. Lawrence and his companions could hardly remain there without Piasky to accompany them.
Lawrence carefully took the parchment from Holo and Col and then returned it to Piasky with a bow. "You've been a great help to us."
"Not at all. This is the least I can do, and I'll happily do it again."

Output:
Lawrence, Holo, and Col filed out of the room, followed by Piasky, who locked the door. It was a strange feeling, knowing that in this place the future homes of many people were being planned. Holo's vaguely dreamy expression was surely due to the same sentiment.
"We'll be going, then." Lawrence and company took their leave from Piasky, who immediately headed for the green-bannered inn while they walked in the opposite direction.
The weather was pleasant, and looking up at the sky, it was easy to forget that the ground was still covered with snow.
The trio was silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
But just before Lawrence was about to break that silence, Holo stopped in her tracks.
"What's wrong?" Lawrence and Col stopped and turned after walking a few seconds more.
Holo looked down, her hood hiding her facial expression. It was clear enough from the slump of her slim shoulders that she was not feeling well.
"You go on ahead. I wish to walk a while."
Her mouth appeared to smile, but how many times had Lawrence wished that she would save her smiles only for those times when she felt genuine happiness?
Col seemed nearly unable to restrain himself from going to her side, but Lawrence held him back.
"Just mind you don't catch cold. Taking ill here comes with plenty of prayer."
"Fool." Despite the terse response, a large puff of white vapor came from Holo's mouth. Then, just like that, she turned on her heel and walked off.
Col clutched at his chest as he watched her recede, then looked up at Lawrence. It was not as though he failed to understand why she would be acting this way, though.
Just as a picture was worth a thousand words, there was a great difference between hearing a sort of work existed and seeing the reality of it. So the impact of hearing that Piasky's work was the creation of new towns and new homes and actually seeing the place where such work took place was likewise different.
And Piasky was a good person to boot. He acted not out of love of money, but neither was he naturally selfless.
Midway through her walk, Holo broke into a trot, then rounded a corner and disappeared out of sight, which made Lawrence's heart ache.
Holo might well have been wondering the same thing he was—what if she'd met Piasky first.
"Should I have gone after her?" Lawrence breathed in the cold air and then exhaled hotly.
Though they stood in the middle of the street, they did not stand out, owing to the many other merchants standing and conversing in the area.
Lawrence took another breath and started walking.
"I don't know what would be best. But I think Miss Holo would have been happy."
It was an exemplary answer, and Lawrence found himself wanting to pat Col on the head for it. But exemplary answers were not always correct.
"Even though my own homeland still exists?"
Col took a sharp breath and stopped. Lawrence did not stop, however, and Col soon caught up with him.
"Sometimes God seems fit to comfort us, though he lives in the heavens free of aging or sickness."
If Holo was a genius of banter, Col was an expert in persuasion. Since his own feelings were unwavering, his words always rang true. And thanks to his studies of Church law, he could easily quote scripture to his advantage.
But Lawrence was an ever-wandering traveling merchant who lied even to himself, and he could not accept such straightforward reasoning.
"I'm sorry. If there's one thing I know all too well, it's my own lack of courage. I'm afraid that if I go to her side, I'll be rejected."
"I doubt that."
Lawrence stopped and noticed that Col was even a bit shorter than Holo. The height difference was enough to make him look imposing to Col, no doubt, whether he was trying to or not.
Lawrence's expression was hard, but not because of Col's cheekiness, nor thanks to the cold. He started walking again and waited the few seconds it took for the hesitant Col to catch up before speaking.


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

Input:
Lawrence, Holo, and Col filed out of the room, followed by Piasky, who locked the door. It was a strange feeling, knowing that in this place the future homes of many people were being planned. Holo's vaguely dreamy expression was surely due to the same sentiment.
"We'll be going, then." Lawrence and company took their leave from Piasky, who immediately headed for the green-bannered inn while they walked in the opposite direction.
The weather was pleasant, and looking up at the sky, it was easy to forget that the ground was still covered with snow.
The trio was silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
But just before Lawrence was about to break that silence, Holo stopped in her tracks.
"What's wrong?" Lawrence and Col stopped and turned after walking a few seconds more.
Holo looked down, her hood hiding her facial expression. It was clear enough from the slump of her slim shoulders that she was not feeling well.
"You go on ahead. I wish to walk a while."
Her mouth appeared to smile, but how many times had Lawrence wished that she would save her smiles only for those times when she felt genuine happiness?
Col seemed nearly unable to restrain himself from going to her side, but Lawrence held him back.
"Just mind you don't catch cold. Taking ill here comes with plenty of prayer."
"Fool." Despite the terse response, a large puff of white vapor came from Holo's mouth. Then, just like that, she turned on her heel and walked off.
Col clutched at his chest as he watched her recede, then looked up at Lawrence. It was not as though he failed to understand why she would be acting this way, though.
Just as a picture was worth a thousand words, there was a great difference between hearing a sort of work existed and seeing the reality of it. So the impact of hearing that Piasky's work was the creation of new towns and new homes and actually seeing the place where such work took place was likewise different.
And Piasky was a good person to boot. He acted not out of love of money, but neither was he naturally selfless.
Midway through her walk, Holo broke into a trot, then rounded a corner and disappeared out of sight, which made Lawrence's heart ache.
Holo might well have been wondering the same thing he was—what if she'd met Piasky first.
"Should I have gone after her?" Lawrence breathed in the cold air and then exhaled hotly.
Though they stood in the middle of the street, they did not stand out, owing to the many other merchants standing and conversing in the area.
Lawrence took another breath and started walking.
"I don't know what would be best. But I think Miss Holo would have been happy."
It was an exemplary answer, and Lawrence found himself wanting to pat Col on the head for it. But exemplary answers were not always correct.
"Even though my own homeland still exists?"
Col took a sharp breath and stopped. Lawrence did not stop, however, and Col soon caught up with him.
"Sometimes God seems fit to comfort us, though he lives in the heavens free of aging or sickness."
If Holo was a genius of banter, Col was an expert in persuasion. Since his own feelings were unwavering, his words always rang true. And thanks to his studies of Church law, he could easily quote scripture to his advantage.
But Lawrence was an ever-wandering traveling merchant who lied even to himself, and he could not accept such straightforward reasoning.
"I'm sorry. If there's one thing I know all too well, it's my own lack of courage. I'm afraid that if I go to her side, I'll be rejected."
"I doubt that."
Lawrence stopped and noticed that Col was even a bit shorter than Holo. The height difference was enough to make him look imposing to Col, no doubt, whether he was trying to or not.
Lawrence's expression was hard, but not because of Col's cheekiness, nor thanks to the cold. He started walking again and waited the few seconds it took for the hesitant Col to catch up before speaking.

Output:
They arrived at the shepherds' dormitory, and Lawrence put his hand to the thin door's handle. They both entered, and he continued.
"I can hardly be involved in all of Holo's affairs, nor can I hope to solve all the problems she faces. The only thing I can do is dedicate myself to doing for her what I can."
As Holo would want. In the best ways he knew how.
He added some straw to the dying fire in the hearth; it quickly caught fire, sending sparks dancing up.
"I'm sure you and she noticed the mention of the wolf bones."
"...You mean the clue Mr. Piasky is searching for?
"Yes. Just as we saw in Kerube, all holy relics are highly valued, and depending on how they're used, they can help support a faith—like trying to catch the golden sheep, thinking it was sent by God. You could say that's exactly the sort of thing Piasky's looking for."
If the abbey had indeed purchased the bones, even knowing they were from a pagan god, it was hard to imagine anything that would more thoroughly prove the depth of their conviction. It would unite the abbey council, saving the abbey as a whole both practically and religiously.
But it was an ironic truth that the cleverer a conclusion was, the easier it was to poke holes in it.
A lie was always harder to expose when it was simple.
Lawrence had abstained from giving Piasky any information because he did not feel it was a decision he should be making alone.
"Mr. Lawrence, why...Back then, why didn't you...?"
Holo had most likely noticed Lawrence's caution at the time, and even Col had probably understood most of it. After all, he had only to think back to what happened in the port town of Kerube.
"Because this information would be enough for them to make an important decision on. It's quite obvious how much we could have distanced ourselves from them, in that moment—and the alliance, too, hardly wishes to base its actions on hearsay from people it knows nothing about. Once they'd gotten assurances from me, I could end up being forced to take responsibility for any failure or bearing the brunt of the attack in case it came to a head-on confrontation with the abbey."
"So you're saying you wouldn't have been able to stay uninvolved?"
"Yes. Their power is too great. If we tell them what we know, and they consider it worthy, it would overturn not just the list of holy relics, but all the investigation they've done on the abbey's dealings and holdings. And if the bones truly do exist, then they'll surely find evidence of them soon. That's the sort of people we're dealing with. And here in the snowy plains, none will come to our aid."
At least in Kerube there were many people around. But here, even the name of the Rowen Trade Guild was weak.
"It's true that we could take the risk and escape on Holo's back if things turn dangerous, but if we're going to do that, Holo may as well have bared her fangs right from the start. But she would like to avoid doing so as much as possible. In addition to her conscientiousness, she tends to worry."
***
Holo often spoke to Lawrence in a complicated, roundabout fashion, rarely explaining her true feelings, which made misunderstandings inevitable—but she seemed to be clearer when speaking with Col.
Since Col seemed to understand what Lawrence was getting at, despite his condensed explanation, the boy's conjecture was probably accurate. Not just accurate, in fact—given his pained expression, there was a good possibility he'd heard Holo's true feelings.
If so, he was probably wondering how two supposed adults could act so childishly. Holo surely would have laughed if such a candid question had been put to her.
Why not simply be honest?
"So as long as she wishes it, I'll continue to take risks. It's the least I can do." He paused and watched the burning straw turn to ash, smoke wafting lazily up.
It felt as though he were looking at his own self, pretentious though such a notion was.


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

Input:
They arrived at the shepherds' dormitory, and Lawrence put his hand to the thin door's handle. They both entered, and he continued.
"I can hardly be involved in all of Holo's affairs, nor can I hope to solve all the problems she faces. The only thing I can do is dedicate myself to doing for her what I can."
As Holo would want. In the best ways he knew how.
He added some straw to the dying fire in the hearth; it quickly caught fire, sending sparks dancing up.
"I'm sure you and she noticed the mention of the wolf bones."
"...You mean the clue Mr. Piasky is searching for?
"Yes. Just as we saw in Kerube, all holy relics are highly valued, and depending on how they're used, they can help support a faith—like trying to catch the golden sheep, thinking it was sent by God. You could say that's exactly the sort of thing Piasky's looking for."
If the abbey had indeed purchased the bones, even knowing they were from a pagan god, it was hard to imagine anything that would more thoroughly prove the depth of their conviction. It would unite the abbey council, saving the abbey as a whole both practically and religiously.
But it was an ironic truth that the cleverer a conclusion was, the easier it was to poke holes in it.
A lie was always harder to expose when it was simple.
Lawrence had abstained from giving Piasky any information because he did not feel it was a decision he should be making alone.
"Mr. Lawrence, why...Back then, why didn't you...?"
Holo had most likely noticed Lawrence's caution at the time, and even Col had probably understood most of it. After all, he had only to think back to what happened in the port town of Kerube.
"Because this information would be enough for them to make an important decision on. It's quite obvious how much we could have distanced ourselves from them, in that moment—and the alliance, too, hardly wishes to base its actions on hearsay from people it knows nothing about. Once they'd gotten assurances from me, I could end up being forced to take responsibility for any failure or bearing the brunt of the attack in case it came to a head-on confrontation with the abbey."
"So you're saying you wouldn't have been able to stay uninvolved?"
"Yes. Their power is too great. If we tell them what we know, and they consider it worthy, it would overturn not just the list of holy relics, but all the investigation they've done on the abbey's dealings and holdings. And if the bones truly do exist, then they'll surely find evidence of them soon. That's the sort of people we're dealing with. And here in the snowy plains, none will come to our aid."
At least in Kerube there were many people around. But here, even the name of the Rowen Trade Guild was weak.
"It's true that we could take the risk and escape on Holo's back if things turn dangerous, but if we're going to do that, Holo may as well have bared her fangs right from the start. But she would like to avoid doing so as much as possible. In addition to her conscientiousness, she tends to worry."
***
Holo often spoke to Lawrence in a complicated, roundabout fashion, rarely explaining her true feelings, which made misunderstandings inevitable—but she seemed to be clearer when speaking with Col.
Since Col seemed to understand what Lawrence was getting at, despite his condensed explanation, the boy's conjecture was probably accurate. Not just accurate, in fact—given his pained expression, there was a good possibility he'd heard Holo's true feelings.
If so, he was probably wondering how two supposed adults could act so childishly. Holo surely would have laughed if such a candid question had been put to her.
Why not simply be honest?
"So as long as she wishes it, I'll continue to take risks. It's the least I can do." He paused and watched the burning straw turn to ash, smoke wafting lazily up.
It felt as though he were looking at his own self, pretentious though such a notion was.

Output:
"Y-yes!"
"I still find that hard to imagine. And what if she asks me to create a new home for her? That would put me in a difficult situation. And yet..."
The right corner of Lawrence's lip curled up of its own volition for the very same reason that he was willing to take such great risks for Holo.
"And yet I can't bear to see her ask such things of anyone else."
He could never admit as much in front of Holo, but it was the unvarnished truth.
Col's face was frozen in place unsurprisingly. He surely did not want to hear such a painfully embarrassing statement from an adult.
But Lawrence felt a strange sense of exhilaration and a certain pride, and he thrust his chest out and continued jokingly, "So I suppose I'll just have to find another way to entice her, eh? Something that'll make her forget all about Piasky and his work."
It was a calculating, self-serving way to think, but it was clearly drawn from a different place than his former inclination to labor mightily for every single silver piece.
Back then, not even giving his confession in a church would leave his heart feeling clean. Indeed, it would only become part of his calculations—now I'll be all right for a while.
Of course, this was all solely about Lawrence, and his listening audience undoubtedly found it unbearable.
But Col was a bit better behaved, simply turning away as though overcoming his embarrassment.
"But of course, I can't tell her that, and quite honestly you have the worst of it, being subjected to our back-and-forth as much as you are."
At these words Col finally looked up and seemed about to say something. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but in the end simply looked down again.
Lawrence found this odd. "What's the matter?"
Col's shoulders flinched. Though he so often gave honest answers, this time he simply looked away. And then, like that, he spoke in a very small voice. "I'm...sorry."
"For what? What possible reason could you have to apologize?"
Something in the hearth gave way with a small sound, and a puff of ashes floated up.
Perhaps that had been the sound of some epiphany flashing through the boy's mind or perhaps it was simply the sound of his face freezing in place.
Col shrank into himself, a look of extreme contrition on his face.
It was done.
Lawrence covered his face with his hand, his shoulders sagging.
He was now quite certain she'd heard everything.
At some point during their time in Piasky's office, Holo had given Col secret instructions, and he'd cooperated in letting her see what his reaction would be once she said she wanted to be alone.
Every word he had uttered came back to him. But for his last shred of pride's sake, he decided not to run.
He stood and patted the terrified Col's head lightly, then walked past him and toward the door.
The thin wood of the door was no great barrier to sound—not that it would matter either way to Holo, who stood unapologetically on the other side of the door.
"'Tis rather impressive that you don't think of me as some weakly sobbing female, but honestly, 'twas unbearable hearing such embarrassing things." Holo smiled maliciously.
Her cheeky grin made him want to debate and browbeat her until she cried out for mercy. How many times had this face gotten the better of him?
And Lawrence found himself infuriated each time it happened, as Holo's japes were always constructed to emphasize his own stupidity.
"So you don't wish to see me entreat another for help?" she said. "You're simply too adorable for...You—"
Her fangs flashed as she spoke, and she extended her index finger to poke Lawrence in the chest, but then—
"...! Nngh...!"
While it is true that anger kept bottled up will finally burst free, in this case it was more like a cornered rat biting the cat that hunted it.
At first Holo was surprised and shrank away, but she soon regained her composure and started to struggle, trying to escape despite her obvious concern for Col's reaction.


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

Input:
"Y-yes!"
"I still find that hard to imagine. And what if she asks me to create a new home for her? That would put me in a difficult situation. And yet..."
The right corner of Lawrence's lip curled up of its own volition for the very same reason that he was willing to take such great risks for Holo.
"And yet I can't bear to see her ask such things of anyone else."
He could never admit as much in front of Holo, but it was the unvarnished truth.
Col's face was frozen in place unsurprisingly. He surely did not want to hear such a painfully embarrassing statement from an adult.
But Lawrence felt a strange sense of exhilaration and a certain pride, and he thrust his chest out and continued jokingly, "So I suppose I'll just have to find another way to entice her, eh? Something that'll make her forget all about Piasky and his work."
It was a calculating, self-serving way to think, but it was clearly drawn from a different place than his former inclination to labor mightily for every single silver piece.
Back then, not even giving his confession in a church would leave his heart feeling clean. Indeed, it would only become part of his calculations—now I'll be all right for a while.
Of course, this was all solely about Lawrence, and his listening audience undoubtedly found it unbearable.
But Col was a bit better behaved, simply turning away as though overcoming his embarrassment.
"But of course, I can't tell her that, and quite honestly you have the worst of it, being subjected to our back-and-forth as much as you are."
At these words Col finally looked up and seemed about to say something. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but in the end simply looked down again.
Lawrence found this odd. "What's the matter?"
Col's shoulders flinched. Though he so often gave honest answers, this time he simply looked away. And then, like that, he spoke in a very small voice. "I'm...sorry."
"For what? What possible reason could you have to apologize?"
Something in the hearth gave way with a small sound, and a puff of ashes floated up.
Perhaps that had been the sound of some epiphany flashing through the boy's mind or perhaps it was simply the sound of his face freezing in place.
Col shrank into himself, a look of extreme contrition on his face.
It was done.
Lawrence covered his face with his hand, his shoulders sagging.
He was now quite certain she'd heard everything.
At some point during their time in Piasky's office, Holo had given Col secret instructions, and he'd cooperated in letting her see what his reaction would be once she said she wanted to be alone.
Every word he had uttered came back to him. But for his last shred of pride's sake, he decided not to run.
He stood and patted the terrified Col's head lightly, then walked past him and toward the door.
The thin wood of the door was no great barrier to sound—not that it would matter either way to Holo, who stood unapologetically on the other side of the door.
"'Tis rather impressive that you don't think of me as some weakly sobbing female, but honestly, 'twas unbearable hearing such embarrassing things." Holo smiled maliciously.
Her cheeky grin made him want to debate and browbeat her until she cried out for mercy. How many times had this face gotten the better of him?
And Lawrence found himself infuriated each time it happened, as Holo's japes were always constructed to emphasize his own stupidity.
"So you don't wish to see me entreat another for help?" she said. "You're simply too adorable for...You—"
Her fangs flashed as she spoke, and she extended her index finger to poke Lawrence in the chest, but then—
"...! Nngh...!"
While it is true that anger kept bottled up will finally burst free, in this case it was more like a cornered rat biting the cat that hunted it.
At first Holo was surprised and shrank away, but she soon regained her composure and started to struggle, trying to escape despite her obvious concern for Col's reaction.

Output:
Some indeterminate amount of time passed before Lawrence let her hand go—and the instant he did, Holo took a deep breath and slapped him across his cheek good and hard, so it must have been quite a while.
Lawrence staggered, musing that he really was no match for her—but it was not the quickness of her hand that made him think so.
Despite having slapped him, Holo's face was not colored with anger. Far from it, her expression was kind; she even smiled faintly.
"That makes us even."
Just which one of you was it that set this up? Had her smile not been genuine, he was quite certain he would have wanted to put that question to her. But no matter how much he wanted to object, the words wouldn't come—because her smile was real.
"That makes us even."
"...It does," he answered, which Holo gave a satisfied nod at and pushed past him into the room.
"Col, boy, for a duty well executed, you shall have your reward," she said, pressing her cheek to the cheek of the astonished Col and gently stroking his head.
Lawrence saw Col's face go red and mused that he was still a child—but if he let the sentiment show on his face, there was no telling what trap Holo might have prepared for him.
He closed the door and returned to the hearth.
Holo embraced Col from behind and gazed at the fire as she spoke. "I'm thinking to leave today or perhaps tomorrow."
"Wha—?" Col exclaimed, starting to look behind him. But as Holo's face was right there, he seemed to think better of it.
Holo smiled and continued, "With both of you, of course. We'll return to that port town—Yiku or whatever it was—and find some tasty food, drink our fill of wine, and sleep. The two of you should get some rest since it'll take three days in the snow to make our way back."
Col seemed to think this was a strange way for her to be speaking. His face betrayed his confusion, but Lawrence didn't find it odd at all.
He had more or less anticipated this, and if it was what Holo wanted to do, he did not mind.
"You'll sleep till midday thanks to the wine. And when you awake, the three of us will come together and eat as we leisurely discuss whether or not to cross back over the sea. After all..." Holo coughed to hide her chuckling, then wiped the corner of her mouth before continuing, "If something had happened the previous night at some far-off abbey—a great wolf attacking, say—you wouldn't know the first thing about it. And surely no one would think to connect you to such an event. You'd have been having a quiet, peaceful time, with no risk or danger at all."
When she finished speaking, Holo looked at Lawrence. "How about it?" said the expression on her face, which looked ready to break into a smile at any moment.
Holo had decided she could not let Lawrence put himself in danger for her. Yet she was not prepared to retreat empty-handed.
So she had chosen the most practical, easiest method—that was all.
"If that's what you want, then I don't mind. I've already said as much, after all."
"Aye. And I've made quite sure of your feelings. To doubt them now would make me the fool."
If her smile had been a bashful one, it would have been quite charming, but Holo's face was as full of mischief as ever. But of course, that was why she was Holo.
A meek Holo would be like jerky without salt.
"I am Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu. When humans see me, they fear and serve me. But if I were afraid myself, what sort of fool would I be?"
She would employ the power of her true form. But even when she did to protect those she cared for, the people she protected might yet look upon her with fear. How much more fearful might they be when she transformed to accomplish her own purposes?
Lawrence certainly understood Holo's fears, but he still wanted her to show some faith in him.
"We can't leave today. Tomorrow or the day after perhaps."
"What say you, Col, my lad?" She asked either out of mischief or an effort to hide her own embarrassment.


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

Input:
Some indeterminate amount of time passed before Lawrence let her hand go—and the instant he did, Holo took a deep breath and slapped him across his cheek good and hard, so it must have been quite a while.
Lawrence staggered, musing that he really was no match for her—but it was not the quickness of her hand that made him think so.
Despite having slapped him, Holo's face was not colored with anger. Far from it, her expression was kind; she even smiled faintly.
"That makes us even."
Just which one of you was it that set this up? Had her smile not been genuine, he was quite certain he would have wanted to put that question to her. But no matter how much he wanted to object, the words wouldn't come—because her smile was real.
"That makes us even."
"...It does," he answered, which Holo gave a satisfied nod at and pushed past him into the room.
"Col, boy, for a duty well executed, you shall have your reward," she said, pressing her cheek to the cheek of the astonished Col and gently stroking his head.
Lawrence saw Col's face go red and mused that he was still a child—but if he let the sentiment show on his face, there was no telling what trap Holo might have prepared for him.
He closed the door and returned to the hearth.
Holo embraced Col from behind and gazed at the fire as she spoke. "I'm thinking to leave today or perhaps tomorrow."
"Wha—?" Col exclaimed, starting to look behind him. But as Holo's face was right there, he seemed to think better of it.
Holo smiled and continued, "With both of you, of course. We'll return to that port town—Yiku or whatever it was—and find some tasty food, drink our fill of wine, and sleep. The two of you should get some rest since it'll take three days in the snow to make our way back."
Col seemed to think this was a strange way for her to be speaking. His face betrayed his confusion, but Lawrence didn't find it odd at all.
He had more or less anticipated this, and if it was what Holo wanted to do, he did not mind.
"You'll sleep till midday thanks to the wine. And when you awake, the three of us will come together and eat as we leisurely discuss whether or not to cross back over the sea. After all..." Holo coughed to hide her chuckling, then wiped the corner of her mouth before continuing, "If something had happened the previous night at some far-off abbey—a great wolf attacking, say—you wouldn't know the first thing about it. And surely no one would think to connect you to such an event. You'd have been having a quiet, peaceful time, with no risk or danger at all."
When she finished speaking, Holo looked at Lawrence. "How about it?" said the expression on her face, which looked ready to break into a smile at any moment.
Holo had decided she could not let Lawrence put himself in danger for her. Yet she was not prepared to retreat empty-handed.
So she had chosen the most practical, easiest method—that was all.
"If that's what you want, then I don't mind. I've already said as much, after all."
"Aye. And I've made quite sure of your feelings. To doubt them now would make me the fool."
If her smile had been a bashful one, it would have been quite charming, but Holo's face was as full of mischief as ever. But of course, that was why she was Holo.
A meek Holo would be like jerky without salt.
"I am Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu. When humans see me, they fear and serve me. But if I were afraid myself, what sort of fool would I be?"
She would employ the power of her true form. But even when she did to protect those she cared for, the people she protected might yet look upon her with fear. How much more fearful might they be when she transformed to accomplish her own purposes?
Lawrence certainly understood Holo's fears, but he still wanted her to show some faith in him.
"We can't leave today. Tomorrow or the day after perhaps."
"What say you, Col, my lad?" She asked either out of mischief or an effort to hide her own embarrassment.

Output:
"Well, then, that decides it. This means you'll end up hearing nothing that might profit you, though I'm not inclined to apologize for that," she said, resting her chin on Col's shoulder, which did not make Lawrence feel like taking her terribly seriously.
Depending on how they were used, the wolf bones could potentially bring Lawrence great profits, but misfortune tended to follow those who tried to gain more coin than their coin purses could hold.
A coin purse was like a stomach—gluttony could make it burst, and death would follow.
"If you're feeling sorry, then why not try an apology?"
Her jape repaid with another jape, Holo grinned. "Kindly forgive me, then."
Lawrence laughed at the absurdity of it and then sighed, surrendering to the peaceful camaraderie.
At the same time, he let slip a few more words. "I suppose this isn't so bad once in a while."
It was a fine, clear afternoon.
There was no more need for a fire in the hearth.
***
To journey back through the snow would require a certain amount of preparation.
This was why merchants so frequently boarded in inns for weeks and weeks during the winter. Even the most familiar, well-trod road became a foreign country when it snowed. Worse, a treacherous spot looked no different from a harmless field when covered in snow.
Winter travel required many things—a guide, a stout horse unfazed by deep snow, knowledge of lodges and cabins in which to pass the night. Travel took more time so food and water rations had to be calculated appropriately.
But fortunately, as long as there was demand, there would be supply. And it was no overstatement to say that the merchant quarter of the great Brondel Abbey was filled with travelers as far as the eye could see. Lawrence went to Piasky to ask after the services of the packhorse driver who had guided them on their way in.
Piasky was busy with documents at the alliance inn and was momentarily surprised at Lawrence's announcement that they would be leaving. But as winter travel required quicker resolve than summer journeys, and as Lawrence had compensated him rather generously for his services, Piasky readily agreed to help.
When a search for knowledge gave no results, a quick retreat was called for. If one had time to idly waste, it was better spent hurrying on to the next goal. While merchants greeted one another with happy smiles and handshakes, they parted just as happily.
It was a rather lonely way of getting by, but it had its advantages.
"This should put everything in order, then."
"I very much appreciate it."
"No, not at all. I've hardly been much help."
They exchanged merchants' pleasantries that were meaningless, though it would not feel right to skip them.
However, the handshake they shared next was anything but meaningless.
Just as a person's qualities could be seen in their bearing, their history came through in their handshake.
The moment of that handshake was the one that decided just how long a person's face would remain in memory.
Lawrence took Piasky's hand firmly and fixed his face solidly in his mind. He hoped Piasky would remember him equally well.
"I think we'll be able to leave tomorrow. Although..."
"Although?"
"A regular delivery from the capital in the west just arrived, and evidently the weather there is terrible. A messenger expected to arrive today still hasn't been seen. Doubtless that same weather will arrive here soon."
A blizzard could turn the entire world literally pure white. The most capable horseman in the world would do them no good at all.
"I've naturally no inclination to persevere in the face of a blizzard. There are three things you don't defy: the Church, an infant, and the weather."
Piasky smiled and nodded. "With luck, it will veer north. And since the shepherds should return soon, I'll ask their advice. They'll have the best knowledge of conditions outside...Ah, Mr. Lawrence, aren't you staying in the same lodging as they are?"


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

Input:
"Well, then, that decides it. This means you'll end up hearing nothing that might profit you, though I'm not inclined to apologize for that," she said, resting her chin on Col's shoulder, which did not make Lawrence feel like taking her terribly seriously.
Depending on how they were used, the wolf bones could potentially bring Lawrence great profits, but misfortune tended to follow those who tried to gain more coin than their coin purses could hold.
A coin purse was like a stomach—gluttony could make it burst, and death would follow.
"If you're feeling sorry, then why not try an apology?"
Her jape repaid with another jape, Holo grinned. "Kindly forgive me, then."
Lawrence laughed at the absurdity of it and then sighed, surrendering to the peaceful camaraderie.
At the same time, he let slip a few more words. "I suppose this isn't so bad once in a while."
It was a fine, clear afternoon.
There was no more need for a fire in the hearth.
***
To journey back through the snow would require a certain amount of preparation.
This was why merchants so frequently boarded in inns for weeks and weeks during the winter. Even the most familiar, well-trod road became a foreign country when it snowed. Worse, a treacherous spot looked no different from a harmless field when covered in snow.
Winter travel required many things—a guide, a stout horse unfazed by deep snow, knowledge of lodges and cabins in which to pass the night. Travel took more time so food and water rations had to be calculated appropriately.
But fortunately, as long as there was demand, there would be supply. And it was no overstatement to say that the merchant quarter of the great Brondel Abbey was filled with travelers as far as the eye could see. Lawrence went to Piasky to ask after the services of the packhorse driver who had guided them on their way in.
Piasky was busy with documents at the alliance inn and was momentarily surprised at Lawrence's announcement that they would be leaving. But as winter travel required quicker resolve than summer journeys, and as Lawrence had compensated him rather generously for his services, Piasky readily agreed to help.
When a search for knowledge gave no results, a quick retreat was called for. If one had time to idly waste, it was better spent hurrying on to the next goal. While merchants greeted one another with happy smiles and handshakes, they parted just as happily.
It was a rather lonely way of getting by, but it had its advantages.
"This should put everything in order, then."
"I very much appreciate it."
"No, not at all. I've hardly been much help."
They exchanged merchants' pleasantries that were meaningless, though it would not feel right to skip them.
However, the handshake they shared next was anything but meaningless.
Just as a person's qualities could be seen in their bearing, their history came through in their handshake.
The moment of that handshake was the one that decided just how long a person's face would remain in memory.
Lawrence took Piasky's hand firmly and fixed his face solidly in his mind. He hoped Piasky would remember him equally well.
"I think we'll be able to leave tomorrow. Although..."
"Although?"
"A regular delivery from the capital in the west just arrived, and evidently the weather there is terrible. A messenger expected to arrive today still hasn't been seen. Doubtless that same weather will arrive here soon."
A blizzard could turn the entire world literally pure white. The most capable horseman in the world would do them no good at all.
"I've naturally no inclination to persevere in the face of a blizzard. There are three things you don't defy: the Church, an infant, and the weather."
Piasky smiled and nodded. "With luck, it will veer north. And since the shepherds should return soon, I'll ask their advice. They'll have the best knowledge of conditions outside...Ah, Mr. Lawrence, aren't you staying in the same lodging as they are?"

Output:
Outside, the approaching twilight lent a melancholy tone to the air, and the sky was indeed cloudy, with a bit of wind.
The merchants in the street had a quickness to their strides, their heads filled for once with thoughts of a warm dinner rather than money. For his part, Lawrence had not only his promise to uphold to prepare dinner for Huskins, but there was also Holo to think about.
"A blizzard?"
Having tossed the last of the ingredients into the pot, Lawrence handed the ladle to Col to mind and went to sit on the bed by Holo, who was grooming her tail.
"The weather may turn bad. If it does, our departure may be delayed. Two days, even three..."
"Mm...now that you mention it, you may be right. My nose has gone numb from smelling naught but sheep." Holo sniffed twice, then sneezed. Once accustomed to travel, there were even some humans who could predict the weather with their nose. "Ah, well, I suppose it's too late to complain about a few days' delay, isn't it?" She grinned mischievously and chewed the tip of her tail.
Lawrence held up both hands in his usual display of surrender.
Holo chuckled, giving her tail a final stroke before falling back on the bed. "So, then, what of dinner?"
"It's not finished boiling yet. And we're waiting for Huskins to return."
Holo hid her fluffy tail beneath her robes quite adroitly, but she had not pulled her hood over her head yet. Lawrence followed her as she went, and when she rather rudely stopped to snatch a piece of jerky from the pot, he covered her ears with the hood.
"Sho, whensh he coming bhack?"
"Soon I imagine. There's no moon tonight, and there's the cold."
Col was wrapped in a blanket as he sat by the hearth and tended the pot, and whenever anyone spoke in the room, their breath turned to white vapor. Outside the windows, the wind was growing stronger and stronger, and the night's weather looked to be turning bad.
"Mmph...well, I'm hungry."
"And he's out there raising that mutton. You should pay him some respect."
"Aye, but when have you paid me any respect?"
It was hard for Lawrence not to immediately reply with, "And just when did you raise me, hmm?" It was all he could do to express his frustration with a reserved "Honestly."
Holo grinned at Col, and the softhearted Col only smiled a chagrined smile.
Just then, Holo's gaze flicked to the door, and Lawrence knew their company had arrived. And from her cautious expression, he knew, too, that it wasn't Huskins.
Perhaps it was Piasky? Lawrence wondered, just as there was a knock on the door. Col, who was used to doing such menial tasks, opened the door, and there stood a shepherd with his cane.
"Ooh, what a lovely smell. Huskins is putting up good travelers, indeed." He seemed to recognize Col, patting the boy's head before clearing his throat. "Apologies. It seems Huskins will be spending the night in the sheep barn. The snow's already begun to come down, you see. My two companions and I barely made it back with our lives."
"I see...We're sorry to make you go out of your way."
"Not at all. There's nothing so hard as waiting for a comrade to return, not knowing when or whether they'll come."
Coming from a shepherd of these snowy lands, this statement carried a special weight. When both darkness and snow fell from the sky, all people could do was huddle around their fires, wondering if their comrades were alive or dead.
"All the more so when there's a tasty dinner waiting!" said the shepherd with a huge smile and then raised his hand. "That's all!" he finished, then walked off.
A merchant would have asked for a cup of soup before leaving, but shepherds were not such greedy creatures. All they relied upon out on the wide-open plains was their staffs and their sheepdogs.
Perhaps their great pride came from that independent spirit—and in any case, that pride of theirs reminded Lawrence very much of a certain wolf. Though he was quite sure that if he said so to Holo, he would truly bring her anger down upon him.


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

Input:
Outside, the approaching twilight lent a melancholy tone to the air, and the sky was indeed cloudy, with a bit of wind.
The merchants in the street had a quickness to their strides, their heads filled for once with thoughts of a warm dinner rather than money. For his part, Lawrence had not only his promise to uphold to prepare dinner for Huskins, but there was also Holo to think about.
"A blizzard?"
Having tossed the last of the ingredients into the pot, Lawrence handed the ladle to Col to mind and went to sit on the bed by Holo, who was grooming her tail.
"The weather may turn bad. If it does, our departure may be delayed. Two days, even three..."
"Mm...now that you mention it, you may be right. My nose has gone numb from smelling naught but sheep." Holo sniffed twice, then sneezed. Once accustomed to travel, there were even some humans who could predict the weather with their nose. "Ah, well, I suppose it's too late to complain about a few days' delay, isn't it?" She grinned mischievously and chewed the tip of her tail.
Lawrence held up both hands in his usual display of surrender.
Holo chuckled, giving her tail a final stroke before falling back on the bed. "So, then, what of dinner?"
"It's not finished boiling yet. And we're waiting for Huskins to return."
Holo hid her fluffy tail beneath her robes quite adroitly, but she had not pulled her hood over her head yet. Lawrence followed her as she went, and when she rather rudely stopped to snatch a piece of jerky from the pot, he covered her ears with the hood.
"Sho, whensh he coming bhack?"
"Soon I imagine. There's no moon tonight, and there's the cold."
Col was wrapped in a blanket as he sat by the hearth and tended the pot, and whenever anyone spoke in the room, their breath turned to white vapor. Outside the windows, the wind was growing stronger and stronger, and the night's weather looked to be turning bad.
"Mmph...well, I'm hungry."
"And he's out there raising that mutton. You should pay him some respect."
"Aye, but when have you paid me any respect?"
It was hard for Lawrence not to immediately reply with, "And just when did you raise me, hmm?" It was all he could do to express his frustration with a reserved "Honestly."
Holo grinned at Col, and the softhearted Col only smiled a chagrined smile.
Just then, Holo's gaze flicked to the door, and Lawrence knew their company had arrived. And from her cautious expression, he knew, too, that it wasn't Huskins.
Perhaps it was Piasky? Lawrence wondered, just as there was a knock on the door. Col, who was used to doing such menial tasks, opened the door, and there stood a shepherd with his cane.
"Ooh, what a lovely smell. Huskins is putting up good travelers, indeed." He seemed to recognize Col, patting the boy's head before clearing his throat. "Apologies. It seems Huskins will be spending the night in the sheep barn. The snow's already begun to come down, you see. My two companions and I barely made it back with our lives."
"I see...We're sorry to make you go out of your way."
"Not at all. There's nothing so hard as waiting for a comrade to return, not knowing when or whether they'll come."
Coming from a shepherd of these snowy lands, this statement carried a special weight. When both darkness and snow fell from the sky, all people could do was huddle around their fires, wondering if their comrades were alive or dead.
"All the more so when there's a tasty dinner waiting!" said the shepherd with a huge smile and then raised his hand. "That's all!" he finished, then walked off.
A merchant would have asked for a cup of soup before leaving, but shepherds were not such greedy creatures. All they relied upon out on the wide-open plains was their staffs and their sheepdogs.
Perhaps their great pride came from that independent spirit—and in any case, that pride of theirs reminded Lawrence very much of a certain wolf. Though he was quite sure that if he said so to Holo, he would truly bring her anger down upon him.

Output:
Holo stole the ladle from Col. "Aye. Let us hope our soup stays unfrozen as well, eh?" She appeared quite pleased, given that she seemed not to think particularly fondly of Huskins. Of course, no small part of that was doubtless due to the share of meat Huskins would have been spared.
"It's not even done cooking yet," said Lawrence as he added a not inexpensive piece of firewood into the hearth.
That night...
Col had quickly fallen asleep, followed not long after by Holo. Outside the window, the wind howled. Their room's window was not the only one clattering loudly, mixing with the occasional sheepdog's bark—perhaps they, too, were being affected by the unpleasant atmosphere.
The night before a blizzard was ever thus.
This time there was a difference, though. Usually Lawrence would be unable to stay warm no matter how many blankets he wrapped around himself, but this time he was almost too warm.
Holo's tail was there, and nothing was better than another warm body to keep the cold at bay. On that count, Holo's was always a little warmer, like a child's, and with wine in her, she was warmer still.
Outside the blankets it was almost painfully cold, but within them, it was as warm as spring.
Yet there was a reason he could not sleep.
The current episode was showing him quite clearly that he could not hope to solve all of Holo's problems. And what haunted him still more than that was the question of what to do next.
If Holo bared her fangs and settled the question of the wolf bones, this chapter would come to an end no matter what the outcome.
If they existed, the story would be over, but it might end even if they didn't. Lawrence couldn't imagine any monk capable of lying while his head was between the jaws of Holo in her true form.
If the answer was that the abbey had not purchased the bones or had already resold them, would they continue to pursue them?
And what if the bones had gone south? Traveling there was possible, but in addition to the expense, it would mean throwing away all the business he'd built up over the course of his trade route. And if it was too long, his customers would be unable to receive goods they were counting on, and the trust he had worked so hard to foster would vanish.
There was a limit to the detours Lawrence could afford.
Though he might wish to consider his dramatic, adventure-filled travels with Holo, just as the abbey was unable to escape its financial woes, so too did Lawrence have to make a living.
The simple, obvious truth was that he would only accompany her as long as he was able to.
Holo certainly understood that, but as soon as Lawrence began to consider simply making straight for Yoitsu, peaceful sleep became nothing more than a memory.
If they headed for Yoitsu, how much longer would he be able to stay with Holo?
And the biggest problem was what would happen once they arrived there. The problems they'd kept putting off were expanding now, like yeast in bread.
What did Holo think? At the very least he now knew she regarded him with some fondness.
But she was not a child, and the world would not simply accommodate their preferences. They would have to be prepared. Holo was the Wisewolf of Yoitsu, and he was a simple traveling merchant. A relationship that crossed social classes was cause for worry enough, and that was when it was between two humans.
So how prepared would they need to be?
Holo lay next to him; he smoothed her chestnut-brown hair and placed his hand on her head. When she fell asleep after drinking, she wouldn't wake even if he pinched her cheeks. In carrying her drunken body to the bed, he'd earned the small reward of stroking her head.
***
Holo's hair slipped through the spaces between his fingers like silk.
She is so dear to me, he thought.
He wanted to stay with her as long as he was able, even if it was absurd, even if it made him miserable. No matter how foolish it seemed.


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

Input:
Holo stole the ladle from Col. "Aye. Let us hope our soup stays unfrozen as well, eh?" She appeared quite pleased, given that she seemed not to think particularly fondly of Huskins. Of course, no small part of that was doubtless due to the share of meat Huskins would have been spared.
"It's not even done cooking yet," said Lawrence as he added a not inexpensive piece of firewood into the hearth.
That night...
Col had quickly fallen asleep, followed not long after by Holo. Outside the window, the wind howled. Their room's window was not the only one clattering loudly, mixing with the occasional sheepdog's bark—perhaps they, too, were being affected by the unpleasant atmosphere.
The night before a blizzard was ever thus.
This time there was a difference, though. Usually Lawrence would be unable to stay warm no matter how many blankets he wrapped around himself, but this time he was almost too warm.
Holo's tail was there, and nothing was better than another warm body to keep the cold at bay. On that count, Holo's was always a little warmer, like a child's, and with wine in her, she was warmer still.
Outside the blankets it was almost painfully cold, but within them, it was as warm as spring.
Yet there was a reason he could not sleep.
The current episode was showing him quite clearly that he could not hope to solve all of Holo's problems. And what haunted him still more than that was the question of what to do next.
If Holo bared her fangs and settled the question of the wolf bones, this chapter would come to an end no matter what the outcome.
If they existed, the story would be over, but it might end even if they didn't. Lawrence couldn't imagine any monk capable of lying while his head was between the jaws of Holo in her true form.
If the answer was that the abbey had not purchased the bones or had already resold them, would they continue to pursue them?
And what if the bones had gone south? Traveling there was possible, but in addition to the expense, it would mean throwing away all the business he'd built up over the course of his trade route. And if it was too long, his customers would be unable to receive goods they were counting on, and the trust he had worked so hard to foster would vanish.
There was a limit to the detours Lawrence could afford.
Though he might wish to consider his dramatic, adventure-filled travels with Holo, just as the abbey was unable to escape its financial woes, so too did Lawrence have to make a living.
The simple, obvious truth was that he would only accompany her as long as he was able to.
Holo certainly understood that, but as soon as Lawrence began to consider simply making straight for Yoitsu, peaceful sleep became nothing more than a memory.
If they headed for Yoitsu, how much longer would he be able to stay with Holo?
And the biggest problem was what would happen once they arrived there. The problems they'd kept putting off were expanding now, like yeast in bread.
What did Holo think? At the very least he now knew she regarded him with some fondness.
But she was not a child, and the world would not simply accommodate their preferences. They would have to be prepared. Holo was the Wisewolf of Yoitsu, and he was a simple traveling merchant. A relationship that crossed social classes was cause for worry enough, and that was when it was between two humans.
So how prepared would they need to be?
Holo lay next to him; he smoothed her chestnut-brown hair and placed his hand on her head. When she fell asleep after drinking, she wouldn't wake even if he pinched her cheeks. In carrying her drunken body to the bed, he'd earned the small reward of stroking her head.
***
Holo's hair slipped through the spaces between his fingers like silk.
She is so dear to me, he thought.
He wanted to stay with her as long as he was able, even if it was absurd, even if it made him miserable. No matter how foolish it seemed.

Output:
Lawrence sighed and stopped his hand.
Though he might wish to borrow the wisdom of a wisewolf, he knew it was a problem he had to solve on his own.
Resisting the urge to curse, he looked again at Holo beside him. He was quite sure he had never made so pathetic an expression in his entire life.
***
He froze, but not because Holo's deep, sleeping breaths had stopped, nor because he had noticed her trying to hide her laughter.
He thought he heard something—the sound of something being dragged perhaps.
***
Holo seemed to still be sleeping as she had been, the sound of her blissfully ignorant breathing barely audible from where her face was buried in the blanket.
Lawrence listened carefully but heard only the sound of the shutters rattling and the wind howling.
Perhaps some snow had slid off the roof, he mused, relaxing—but just as he did so, he heard the sound again. This time it was definitely not his imagination.
He raised his head, listened intently, and heard it again.
There was no mistaking it.
Lawrence slowly inhaled, letting the frigid air flow into his lungs. He then quickly emerged from within the blankets, placed his feet on the creaky floorboard, and stood there in the stabbing cold.
He unsheathed his knife, opening and closing his right hand around its handle. Thieves were surprisingly common in places like this. They evidently exploited the lowered guard that came with seeing only familiar faces.
Continuing to the room with the hearth and opening the door there, Lawrence could now clearly hear the dragging sound.
The sound of a staff.
If it was a thief, he was giving a poor accounting of himself, and Lawrence was not so foolish as to mistake the sound for stealthy footfalls. But who could it be at such an hour?
"Nn...mph..."
Holo rolled over in bed, seeming to notice that Lawrence was no longer there.
She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and looked in Lawrence's direction questioningly.
But her sleepy-girl act ended there, and she soon took notice of the footsteps, her eyes becoming wolf's eyes.
With movements so quick it was hard to imagine she was still drunk, she threw off the blankets, but could not win against the cold and shivered once.
The footsteps were very close now.
Shfff...tup...tokk.
Holo looked back and forth between Lawrence and the doorway. She seemed to want to ask who was there, but Lawrence did not know himself.
The sound stopped at the door. Slowly the handle was turned, and the door opened...
"...Hu—" Lawrence began, but didn't have time to finish before rushing toward the figure, who started to collapse.
And then Lawrence was speechless. In front of him was a snow-covered, barely alive form that looked very much like Huskins but was hardly human.
Lawrence found himself utterly unable to form words.
***
Icicles dangled from the figure's eyebrows, and it was impossible to tell whether the beard that rimmed his mouth was ice or hair. The hand that gripped the staff was caked in encrusted snow, and it was impossible to tell where the hand ended and the staff began.
His breathing was quiet. Eerily quiet—and beneath the snow and ice, only his eyes moved, glancing this way and that.
No one spoke.
Their demonic visitor's back was oddly shaped—from his head sprouted a curled ram's horns and his knees were jointed backwards, like a sheep's.
"...Oh, God," murmured Lawrence, mostly unconsciously.
That instant, the ice covering the demon's face split with a small krak.
By the time he realized the demon was smiling, Holo was right by his side.
"...A wolf, eh..." As he spoke, the icicles dangling from his beard clattered against one another.
The voice belonged to Huskins.
"Had you not the time to disguise yourself?"
"..." Huskins smiled wordlessly and slowly wiped his face with the hand that did not hold his staff.
He looked as though he had endured something that would have long since killed a normal man.
"You're here to mock me, then?" Holo's voice was colder than the air in the room.


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

Input:
Lawrence sighed and stopped his hand.
Though he might wish to borrow the wisdom of a wisewolf, he knew it was a problem he had to solve on his own.
Resisting the urge to curse, he looked again at Holo beside him. He was quite sure he had never made so pathetic an expression in his entire life.
***
He froze, but not because Holo's deep, sleeping breaths had stopped, nor because he had noticed her trying to hide her laughter.
He thought he heard something—the sound of something being dragged perhaps.
***
Holo seemed to still be sleeping as she had been, the sound of her blissfully ignorant breathing barely audible from where her face was buried in the blanket.
Lawrence listened carefully but heard only the sound of the shutters rattling and the wind howling.
Perhaps some snow had slid off the roof, he mused, relaxing—but just as he did so, he heard the sound again. This time it was definitely not his imagination.
He raised his head, listened intently, and heard it again.
There was no mistaking it.
Lawrence slowly inhaled, letting the frigid air flow into his lungs. He then quickly emerged from within the blankets, placed his feet on the creaky floorboard, and stood there in the stabbing cold.
He unsheathed his knife, opening and closing his right hand around its handle. Thieves were surprisingly common in places like this. They evidently exploited the lowered guard that came with seeing only familiar faces.
Continuing to the room with the hearth and opening the door there, Lawrence could now clearly hear the dragging sound.
The sound of a staff.
If it was a thief, he was giving a poor accounting of himself, and Lawrence was not so foolish as to mistake the sound for stealthy footfalls. But who could it be at such an hour?
"Nn...mph..."
Holo rolled over in bed, seeming to notice that Lawrence was no longer there.
She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and looked in Lawrence's direction questioningly.
But her sleepy-girl act ended there, and she soon took notice of the footsteps, her eyes becoming wolf's eyes.
With movements so quick it was hard to imagine she was still drunk, she threw off the blankets, but could not win against the cold and shivered once.
The footsteps were very close now.
Shfff...tup...tokk.
Holo looked back and forth between Lawrence and the doorway. She seemed to want to ask who was there, but Lawrence did not know himself.
The sound stopped at the door. Slowly the handle was turned, and the door opened...
"...Hu—" Lawrence began, but didn't have time to finish before rushing toward the figure, who started to collapse.
And then Lawrence was speechless. In front of him was a snow-covered, barely alive form that looked very much like Huskins but was hardly human.
Lawrence found himself utterly unable to form words.
***
Icicles dangled from the figure's eyebrows, and it was impossible to tell whether the beard that rimmed his mouth was ice or hair. The hand that gripped the staff was caked in encrusted snow, and it was impossible to tell where the hand ended and the staff began.
His breathing was quiet. Eerily quiet—and beneath the snow and ice, only his eyes moved, glancing this way and that.
No one spoke.
Their demonic visitor's back was oddly shaped—from his head sprouted a curled ram's horns and his knees were jointed backwards, like a sheep's.
"...Oh, God," murmured Lawrence, mostly unconsciously.
That instant, the ice covering the demon's face split with a small krak.
By the time he realized the demon was smiling, Holo was right by his side.
"...A wolf, eh..." As he spoke, the icicles dangling from his beard clattered against one another.
The voice belonged to Huskins.
"Had you not the time to disguise yourself?"
"..." Huskins smiled wordlessly and slowly wiped his face with the hand that did not hold his staff.
He looked as though he had endured something that would have long since killed a normal man.
"You're here to mock me, then?" Holo's voice was colder than the air in the room.

Output:
He was a demon. That was it—he was a demon.
But Lawrence had a reason for lending him a shoulder to lean on—Holo had not tried to hide her ears and tail.
"...Is it not natural...for a sheep to hide itself before a wolf?"
The sound of cracking ice accompanied his movements.
Lawrence helped Huskins over to the hearth, where he sat.
Shortly thereafter came a small cry—the sound of Col's gasp upon awakening.
"The best place to hide a tree is in the forest, eh? I never noticed."
"...I am not like you." Huskins fixed Holo in one eye.
Lawrence could tell from Holo's ears and tail that Huskins's words had disturbed her.
But she still had the ability to admit reality. She nodded. "And?" she said grudgingly.
Huskins was a being similar to Holo. In and of itself that did not bother Lawrence. His travels thus far had taught him that such creatures did hide in human civilization—in ominous forests next to towns, in segregated districts where townspeople feared to tread, or in fields of wheat, long after the villagers had lost faith in them.
So if anything, Lawrence was calmer than Holo as they waited for Huskins to speak.
"I have...a favor to ask."
"A favor?"
The melting ice refroze in the chilly room.
Huskins nodded again emphatically, sighing as he spit out the words. "It's a calamity...one far beyond my power to deal with."
"So you wish to borrow mine?"
At Holo's question, Huskins seemed to nod—but when Lawrence realized Huskins was not nodding, but rather shaking with mirth, Huskins put a trembling hand to his breast and produced a letter.
"Your power is your fangs and claws...but the age when such things ruled has passed. I give you this..." He directed his gaze to Lawrence.
"To me?"
"Yes...to the man who travels with the wolf. I let you stay here because...I wished to observe you. But I believe it was the will of the gods."
"Hah, the gods, you say?" Holo bared her fangs and laughed derisively, but her intimidating, contemptuous expression elicited only a cold smile from Huskins.
"Just as you cling to this strange, gentle human...so, too, do I cling to the gods. That is all."
"I-I do not—I hardly—!" Holo objected mightily, at a rare loss for words.
The difference between Huskins and Holo was like that of an old man and a child, and it was not simply due to the disparity in their appearances. For example, Huskins regarded the sputtering Holo but gave no triumphant, boastful smile. Quite the contrary, his expressionless face seemed to be somehow tender and kindly.
"You're a merchant, are you not? Take this."
"What is it...?"
"I found a strayed shepherd in the snow. Such things often happen...my sheepdog found him. He looked to still be praying, though the life had already left him."
It was a single sealed letter. Written on sheepskin parchment with hair still on it, it was sealed with a red wax seal.
If the man had died out in the snow, he must have been a messenger from some other town bound for this one and had gotten lost on the way.
Unless travelers hurried, they would be caught by the snow and wind and night, but hurrying rapidly exhausted their reserves of strength. It was such a common occurrence that there were even thieves who specialized in finding their corpses once the snow melted and taking their belongings.
"In the end, I am a mere sheep. You understand, do you not, young wolf?" Huskins directed his words to Holo. Holo clutched her chest, as though a secret she held had been revealed.
"In the face of this letter, our strength means nothing," finished Huskins, giving a heavy sigh. He closed his eyes.
The firewood had now fully caught the hearth's flames and burned very brightly. The ice on Huskins's body was finally beginning to melt, and Col had recovered enough to busy himself tending to Huskins, who seemed to find the attention pleasant.
At some point his body had reverted to human form, and it seemed like his earlier monstrous form was something out of a dream.


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

Input:
He was a demon. That was it—he was a demon.
But Lawrence had a reason for lending him a shoulder to lean on—Holo had not tried to hide her ears and tail.
"...Is it not natural...for a sheep to hide itself before a wolf?"
The sound of cracking ice accompanied his movements.
Lawrence helped Huskins over to the hearth, where he sat.
Shortly thereafter came a small cry—the sound of Col's gasp upon awakening.
"The best place to hide a tree is in the forest, eh? I never noticed."
"...I am not like you." Huskins fixed Holo in one eye.
Lawrence could tell from Holo's ears and tail that Huskins's words had disturbed her.
But she still had the ability to admit reality. She nodded. "And?" she said grudgingly.
Huskins was a being similar to Holo. In and of itself that did not bother Lawrence. His travels thus far had taught him that such creatures did hide in human civilization—in ominous forests next to towns, in segregated districts where townspeople feared to tread, or in fields of wheat, long after the villagers had lost faith in them.
So if anything, Lawrence was calmer than Holo as they waited for Huskins to speak.
"I have...a favor to ask."
"A favor?"
The melting ice refroze in the chilly room.
Huskins nodded again emphatically, sighing as he spit out the words. "It's a calamity...one far beyond my power to deal with."
"So you wish to borrow mine?"
At Holo's question, Huskins seemed to nod—but when Lawrence realized Huskins was not nodding, but rather shaking with mirth, Huskins put a trembling hand to his breast and produced a letter.
"Your power is your fangs and claws...but the age when such things ruled has passed. I give you this..." He directed his gaze to Lawrence.
"To me?"
"Yes...to the man who travels with the wolf. I let you stay here because...I wished to observe you. But I believe it was the will of the gods."
"Hah, the gods, you say?" Holo bared her fangs and laughed derisively, but her intimidating, contemptuous expression elicited only a cold smile from Huskins.
"Just as you cling to this strange, gentle human...so, too, do I cling to the gods. That is all."
"I-I do not—I hardly—!" Holo objected mightily, at a rare loss for words.
The difference between Huskins and Holo was like that of an old man and a child, and it was not simply due to the disparity in their appearances. For example, Huskins regarded the sputtering Holo but gave no triumphant, boastful smile. Quite the contrary, his expressionless face seemed to be somehow tender and kindly.
"You're a merchant, are you not? Take this."
"What is it...?"
"I found a strayed shepherd in the snow. Such things often happen...my sheepdog found him. He looked to still be praying, though the life had already left him."
It was a single sealed letter. Written on sheepskin parchment with hair still on it, it was sealed with a red wax seal.
If the man had died out in the snow, he must have been a messenger from some other town bound for this one and had gotten lost on the way.
Unless travelers hurried, they would be caught by the snow and wind and night, but hurrying rapidly exhausted their reserves of strength. It was such a common occurrence that there were even thieves who specialized in finding their corpses once the snow melted and taking their belongings.
"In the end, I am a mere sheep. You understand, do you not, young wolf?" Huskins directed his words to Holo. Holo clutched her chest, as though a secret she held had been revealed.
"In the face of this letter, our strength means nothing," finished Huskins, giving a heavy sigh. He closed his eyes.
The firewood had now fully caught the hearth's flames and burned very brightly. The ice on Huskins's body was finally beginning to melt, and Col had recovered enough to busy himself tending to Huskins, who seemed to find the attention pleasant.
At some point his body had reverted to human form, and it seemed like his earlier monstrous form was something out of a dream.

Output:
Lawrence looked at the contents of the letter Huskins had given him. And then he understood what Huskins had meant.
"Mr. Huskins. What do you need my help for?"
"The abbey..." Huskins paused for a moment, then closed his eyes and smiled thinly. "...I want you to protect it."
"Er, I'm sorry, but—why?"
Huskins opened one gray eye and regarded Lawrence with it.
His gaze was steady and dignified, the gaze of a wild sheep that had roamed step-by-step across the vast plains.
It was different than Holo's.
If Holo's gaze were a sharp dagger, Huskins's was a great hammer.
"It's no surprise you'd wonder. Why would I, of anyone, bow down before God? You see, I too have relied on humans to live. Just like the young wolf."
Instantly Holo seemed ready to refute him, but she was stopped by a glance from Huskins.
He was treating her like a child.
"I do not mean to anger you. I have taken human form and live a human life. It is no surprise I sought human strength."
"Hmph. So, what have you done with this strength you've borrowed from the humans?"
"A home."
"Eh?" Holo replied, her eyes widening.
Huskins continued, his voice and manner still quiet and clear. "Made a home. On this land. A home of our own."
The firewood crackled.
Holo's eyes were like full moons.
"Nothing escapes the grasp of humans. Not the mountains, the forests, or the plains. So in order to create a place that would endure unchanging for centuries, we had no choice but to use their power. At first I was unsure whether it could succeed...but it did. A vast, quiet homeland was ours. And no matter who comes or when, they always say the same thing."
"...This place hasn't changed."
Huskins smiled like a kind grandfather and took a deep breath. "It's our greatest desire. We were driven from our home long ago and scattered. Some to desolate wilderness, others hiding among humans in their towns. And some wandered endlessly...This is a place where we can all meet again. A place to which all may return, no matter how far afield they live. This place."
"That which scattered you...could it have been, was it the Moon-Hunting...?"
"Ha-ha...hah. So you know that much, do you? That will make things simpler to explain. Yes, it was indeed the Moon-Hunting Bear that took our home from us. Irawa Weir Muheddhunde in the old tongue."
They had seen many stories of the bear that had been collected by a certain priest back in a tiny, meager town that worshipped a snake god.
Holo took a deep breath, like a child with a strange way of crying.
"When the calamity came, we were powerless, and there was nothing we could do. And now times have changed, and to protect this place, we need a new kind of power. The devices of humans are too fine for my hooves."
When seeking a favor, it was very difficult to maintain an equal footing, neither abasing oneself nor being too demanding—nor too prideful.
But Huskins accepted the world as it was, and within it, did what he was able. And there was no doubt he had done so for centuries. So it had to be possible.
"We've had many troubles thus far. But this time, finally, they may be more than we can handle."
Lawrence looked at the letter, then back to Huskins. "...This is a royal notice of taxation, isn't it?"
"It was easier when the lords were still warring. The reason of our own era was enough to gain some small measure of stability then. But the long wars devastated the land. If the abbey were to fall, all would be lost. So I secretly aided Winfiel the First in unifying the nation. And that is where I erred."
They were stronger than humans, and wiser, and had ruled the land before humans swept across it. The turn of ages was a common matter to them surely.
"But children never remember the debt they owe their parents, to say nothing of grandchildren. I can no longer take the public stage. All I can do is occasionally show myself to add a bit of legitimacy to their rule."
"The legend...of the golden sheep."