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

Input:
The sky had turned red and would soon be a deep, dark blue.
Everyone Lawrence passed seemed uniformly exhausted, and many of the drivers of empty-bedded wagons were asleep in the drivers' seats.
When he looked back, he could see others like him, all headed for the same destination. Some carried goods on their backs, others in bags on packhorses, and some drove loaded wagons. Their clothes and tack were all different, and all spoke very clearly of having been suddenly and temporarily assembled for the job.
The town seemed to be surrounded by fertile land, which would mean it would need a mill to grind the grain from its bountiful harvests. But waterwheels were not only useful for grain. Lush land would attract more people, and more people would bring more needs. Smithing, dyeing, spinning—all of these could make uses of a waterwheel's power.
However, constructing and maintaining such a thing was a very expensive proposition, and rivers where they were built tended to be owned by the nobility. Even when a waterwheel was needed, its construction would often become tangled among conflicting interests and schemes.
Given how busy the trading company was, it seemed those interests had all finally been resolved and construction had been decided upon.
The hurry came from the thaw that would come with spring's arrival, when the melting snow would make construction very difficult. The company's plan was surely to build the dikes and install the wheel while the river was low. The rising water that would come with the spring thaw would power the wheel quite nicely.
Lawrence did not know whether it was going to succeed, but he could see the desperation in the operation. Of course, that was what allowed him to waltz right in the way he had, so he thanked his luck for that.
Moreover, this was the first time in quite a while he had conducted the wagon without Holo at his side, and while it would have been overstatement to say it was a relief, it was certainly a pleasant change of pace.
Formerly, he would have found driving alone an unavoidably lonely activity, and it made him reflect on how fickle humans were.
As the sun set, he shivered at a far-off wolf howl—this, too, for the first time in quite a while.
He stifled a yawn and kept his attention on the road, the better to keep the wagon's wheels out of holes and puddles. Soon he came to Le Houaix, where the glow of red torchlight brightened the moonlit night.
To the north of the village was a forest nestled against a steep upward slope, and through it passed the driver. Normally nightfall would drown the forest in darkness, but here the riverbank had been cleared and fires built along it so that it looked almost like a river of fire.
Here and there some workers caught what sleep they could, but Lawrence could see other craftsmen toiling away by the river. It was a larger construction project than Lawrence had anticipated; it seemed they were planning to build multiple waterwheels at once.
It seemed likely to yield unusually large profits.
Lawrence delivered the goods and received wooden tags in exchange, then cheerfully climbed back onto the wagon. His horse did not speak human language, but looked back at Lawrence with his sad purple eyes, as though to say, "Please, no more."
Lawrence nonetheless took up the reins and wheeled the wagon around, and with a smart crack, he urged his horse forward. This was a simple business—how much money he could make would depend on how many times he could repeat the trip.
The busy, hurried work made him reflect on his rarely remembered past. It might mean only trouble for his horse, but Lawrence came to smile thinly and drew a blanket over his shoulders.
How many trips would it take to reach the honeyed peach preserves? He mused over the question as the wagon rolled on under the moonlight.
The way to Le Houaix was chaotic.

Output:
This was why most of the people that crowded the road all day were not merchants, but rather ordinary people trying to make a quick wage—farmers and shepherds, street performers and pilgrims, craftsmen with their aprons still on. It was as though the entire town had turned out for the job. Most of them carried loads on their backs as they set about doing the unfamiliar physical labor.
Moreover, while the road that led to the village of Le Houaix was not a particularly steep or severe one, it was beset by other problems.
The voices of wolves and wild dogs could be heard from the forest alongside the road, either in reaction to the presence of the people on the road or the food that they ate as they went, and at the crossing of a stream over which a shoddy bridge had been built, there was constant fighting over whose turn it was to cross.
The loads brought to the village had to be dealt with, not to mention the arrival of itinerant craftsmen who'd caught wind of the construction. Added to that was the traffic of women and children running to and fro to draw water from the river, to quench the thirst of the men coming to the village. The path from the village center to the river had become a veritable swamp thanks to all the water being spilled.
The village was sprinkled with soldiers, too, with swords at their waists and iron breastplates on their chests. No doubt the watermill's noble masters had come to make sure the work was proceeding well.
Earlier in the day, people were full of vigor and thoughts of the wages they might earn, so there were fewer problems. But as the sun went lower in the sky, strength waned and knees buckled, and the situation grew tense.
Even when he returned to the Ohm Company, the loaders' labors had slowed to a crawl from all the noise being made. On top of all that, some of the most dispirited porters were beginning to complain that wild dogs were now venturing onto the road.
Lawrence had made seven trips with his wagon and was beginning to feel quite fatigued. Even if the road was not so steep, the number of people was itself exhausting.
A quick check of his coin purse revealed that the day's earnings amounted to seven trenni. That was not a bad wage at all—in fact, it was exceptionally good—but at this rate, it would take three or four days before he had enough to buy the honeyed peach preserves. As more people arrived, causing the work to back up, it might take even more time than that. He found himself inescapably irritated—he could earn more if he could just get his wagon loaded more quickly.
But there was a limit to the amount of work a person could do.
Lawrence took a deep breath, and there on his wagon, he did some thinking. Haste made waste. He would take a break and wait for nightfall. The crowds would thin, and he would be able to make more profitable use of his time. Such was the possibility Lawrence decided to bet on.
He pulled out of the line bound for the loading dock, then stabled his horse and wagon alike. The building was completely empty—all the other horses had been hired out. He then made for the room the trading company had spared him.
Whatever Holo had said to the housemaid, she had neither been chased out nor made to share a room with anyone else. Holo was there in the room alone, sitting in a chair by the window, combing out the fur of her tail, illuminated by the red light of the setting sun.
She did not spare the exhausted Lawrence a glance as he removed his dagger and coin purse and placed them on the table. "Well, isn't she the elegant one," Lawrence grumbled to himself but admitted that he was the one who'd told her to stay here. He managed to avoid blundering into the particular folly of voicing his irritation but wondered whether it was even worth it.
Such things went through Lawrence's mind as he collapsed sideways onto the bed. Then—
"There are two left, he said."
Lawrence glanced at Holo, not immediately understanding. She did not return his look.


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

Input:
This was why most of the people that crowded the road all day were not merchants, but rather ordinary people trying to make a quick wage—farmers and shepherds, street performers and pilgrims, craftsmen with their aprons still on. It was as though the entire town had turned out for the job. Most of them carried loads on their backs as they set about doing the unfamiliar physical labor.
Moreover, while the road that led to the village of Le Houaix was not a particularly steep or severe one, it was beset by other problems.
The voices of wolves and wild dogs could be heard from the forest alongside the road, either in reaction to the presence of the people on the road or the food that they ate as they went, and at the crossing of a stream over which a shoddy bridge had been built, there was constant fighting over whose turn it was to cross.
The loads brought to the village had to be dealt with, not to mention the arrival of itinerant craftsmen who'd caught wind of the construction. Added to that was the traffic of women and children running to and fro to draw water from the river, to quench the thirst of the men coming to the village. The path from the village center to the river had become a veritable swamp thanks to all the water being spilled.
The village was sprinkled with soldiers, too, with swords at their waists and iron breastplates on their chests. No doubt the watermill's noble masters had come to make sure the work was proceeding well.
Earlier in the day, people were full of vigor and thoughts of the wages they might earn, so there were fewer problems. But as the sun went lower in the sky, strength waned and knees buckled, and the situation grew tense.
Even when he returned to the Ohm Company, the loaders' labors had slowed to a crawl from all the noise being made. On top of all that, some of the most dispirited porters were beginning to complain that wild dogs were now venturing onto the road.
Lawrence had made seven trips with his wagon and was beginning to feel quite fatigued. Even if the road was not so steep, the number of people was itself exhausting.
A quick check of his coin purse revealed that the day's earnings amounted to seven trenni. That was not a bad wage at all—in fact, it was exceptionally good—but at this rate, it would take three or four days before he had enough to buy the honeyed peach preserves. As more people arrived, causing the work to back up, it might take even more time than that. He found himself inescapably irritated—he could earn more if he could just get his wagon loaded more quickly.
But there was a limit to the amount of work a person could do.
Lawrence took a deep breath, and there on his wagon, he did some thinking. Haste made waste. He would take a break and wait for nightfall. The crowds would thin, and he would be able to make more profitable use of his time. Such was the possibility Lawrence decided to bet on.
He pulled out of the line bound for the loading dock, then stabled his horse and wagon alike. The building was completely empty—all the other horses had been hired out. He then made for the room the trading company had spared him.
Whatever Holo had said to the housemaid, she had neither been chased out nor made to share a room with anyone else. Holo was there in the room alone, sitting in a chair by the window, combing out the fur of her tail, illuminated by the red light of the setting sun.
She did not spare the exhausted Lawrence a glance as he removed his dagger and coin purse and placed them on the table. "Well, isn't she the elegant one," Lawrence grumbled to himself but admitted that he was the one who'd told her to stay here. He managed to avoid blundering into the particular folly of voicing his irritation but wondered whether it was even worth it.
Such things went through Lawrence's mind as he collapsed sideways onto the bed. Then—
"There are two left, he said."
Lawrence glanced at Holo, not immediately understanding. She did not return his look.

Output:
It took Lawrence a moment to realize that she was talking about the honeyed peach preserves.
While he had been tired, he had not expected her to thank him for his hard day's work, but he'd at least hoped for some enjoyably idle chatter. But no, after a day and night of pulling on the reins, he was being immediately pressed on the topic at hand.
Lawrence was unsurprisingly irritated, but as he replied, he tried to keep that from affecting his tone. "You went back there just to check on them?"
His annoyance made it through via the word just, but he was too tired to worry about such things. As he sat on the bed, he untied his bootlaces in order to remove his shoes.
"Will it be all right, I wonder?" Holo pushed him, and his hands froze for a moment. Soon thereafter they started moving again, and he finished removing his boots.
"At one lumione, they're not asking a price that most people can easily pay, and people who can easily pay that much aren't exactly common."
"Is that so. They're safe, then, no?"
It was an honest enough answer that it could have been taken at face value, but her deliberate tone grated on his already-tired nerves. He was considering explaining very carefully just how much money a single lumione amounted to when he stopped and thought better of it.
Holo had no particular reason to be deliberately irritating him, so it was probably exhaustion that was making him feel this way.
Lawrence calmed himself and loosened his clothing here and there in preparation for a nap.
Holo had looked over at him at some point, and he noticed her gaze just as he was readying himself to lie down and fully relax.
"After all, you must have earned quite a lot." Lawrence was honestly surprised at her open hostility. "So tomorrow, then? Or are you back because you've earned enough already? You've made seven loads so far. That's got to amount to a goodly sum."
Biting, nibbling ants were an irritation, but the plunging stinger of the wasp was something to fear. Lawrence reacted to the teeth-baring, growling Holo mostly out of reflex, as he wondered where the nibbling Holo of a moment ago had gone. "Er, no, that only comes to seven silver pieces, so..."
"Seven? Oh ho. After all that haste, how long is it going to take you to earn a full lumione, then?"
He had seen her tail fluffed up in the reddish light when he had returned to the room, but now he realized it had been puffed out for a different reason.
But as he cast about, Lawrence's mind was a blank sheet. He had no idea what Holo was angry about.
Was it because the honeyed peach preserves were about to sell out? Or because she simply wanted to eat them as soon as possible?
His confusion had nothing to do with his exhaustion or anything so trivial. He purely and simply did not understand Holo's anger and was at an utter loss for words.
Holo's eyes blazed as red as a hare's in the setting sun. Her rage-filled gaze bore down on him, making Lawrence feel like his very life hung in the balance of his answer. The moment after that last absurd notion occurred to him, Lawrence realized something strange: What had Holo said just now? She had pointed out that he had made seven trips, but how did she come to have such detailed knowledge?
Not even the company merchants themselves would know exactly how many times they had loaded his wagon bed. It was as though she had been watching him from the window throughout the night.
As Lawrence thought of this, an "ah" escaped his lips. Holo's ears pricked up, and in her lap, her tail puffed out.
But that angry gaze was no longer directed at him, and he heard no bitter words. Instead, Holo's eyes narrowed, and she averted her eyes, as though wishing the red light of the setting sun would simply wash everything away.
"...Were you...," Lawrence began, but Holo literally snarled at him, and he cut himself off. "Uh, never mind," he mumbled.


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

Input:
It took Lawrence a moment to realize that she was talking about the honeyed peach preserves.
While he had been tired, he had not expected her to thank him for his hard day's work, but he'd at least hoped for some enjoyably idle chatter. But no, after a day and night of pulling on the reins, he was being immediately pressed on the topic at hand.
Lawrence was unsurprisingly irritated, but as he replied, he tried to keep that from affecting his tone. "You went back there just to check on them?"
His annoyance made it through via the word just, but he was too tired to worry about such things. As he sat on the bed, he untied his bootlaces in order to remove his shoes.
"Will it be all right, I wonder?" Holo pushed him, and his hands froze for a moment. Soon thereafter they started moving again, and he finished removing his boots.
"At one lumione, they're not asking a price that most people can easily pay, and people who can easily pay that much aren't exactly common."
"Is that so. They're safe, then, no?"
It was an honest enough answer that it could have been taken at face value, but her deliberate tone grated on his already-tired nerves. He was considering explaining very carefully just how much money a single lumione amounted to when he stopped and thought better of it.
Holo had no particular reason to be deliberately irritating him, so it was probably exhaustion that was making him feel this way.
Lawrence calmed himself and loosened his clothing here and there in preparation for a nap.
Holo had looked over at him at some point, and he noticed her gaze just as he was readying himself to lie down and fully relax.
"After all, you must have earned quite a lot." Lawrence was honestly surprised at her open hostility. "So tomorrow, then? Or are you back because you've earned enough already? You've made seven loads so far. That's got to amount to a goodly sum."
Biting, nibbling ants were an irritation, but the plunging stinger of the wasp was something to fear. Lawrence reacted to the teeth-baring, growling Holo mostly out of reflex, as he wondered where the nibbling Holo of a moment ago had gone. "Er, no, that only comes to seven silver pieces, so..."
"Seven? Oh ho. After all that haste, how long is it going to take you to earn a full lumione, then?"
He had seen her tail fluffed up in the reddish light when he had returned to the room, but now he realized it had been puffed out for a different reason.
But as he cast about, Lawrence's mind was a blank sheet. He had no idea what Holo was angry about.
Was it because the honeyed peach preserves were about to sell out? Or because she simply wanted to eat them as soon as possible?
His confusion had nothing to do with his exhaustion or anything so trivial. He purely and simply did not understand Holo's anger and was at an utter loss for words.
Holo's eyes blazed as red as a hare's in the setting sun. Her rage-filled gaze bore down on him, making Lawrence feel like his very life hung in the balance of his answer. The moment after that last absurd notion occurred to him, Lawrence realized something strange: What had Holo said just now? She had pointed out that he had made seven trips, but how did she come to have such detailed knowledge?
Not even the company merchants themselves would know exactly how many times they had loaded his wagon bed. It was as though she had been watching him from the window throughout the night.
As Lawrence thought of this, an "ah" escaped his lips. Holo's ears pricked up, and in her lap, her tail puffed out.
But that angry gaze was no longer directed at him, and he heard no bitter words. Instead, Holo's eyes narrowed, and she averted her eyes, as though wishing the red light of the setting sun would simply wash everything away.
"...Were you...," Lawrence began, but Holo literally snarled at him, and he cut himself off. "Uh, never mind," he mumbled.

Output:
Holo had probably been worried about him, but more than that, she had been lonely, left shut up in the room like this.
She had once said that loneliness was a fatal illness and had in the past put her very life at risk for Lawrence. He had not forgotten her, nor this. He could never forget.
That was why he had worked himself to the point of exhaustion for her, but simply feeling this way would not tell her anything. Just as Holo looking down at him from the window had not.
Even if it was a simple, tedious job, and even if it would only worsen her own exhaustion, Holo wanted Lawrence to bring her along. Anything was better than being left alone, she bravely seemed to think.
Lawrence cleared his throat to buy himself some time.
Since this was Holo, if he was to just up and invite her along, it would be inviting either her exasperation or her anger, and if she felt she was being pitied, it might become an issue of wounded pride.
He had to find some sort of pretext. Lawrence put his mind to work harder than he ever did while plying his trade and finally came up with something that he thought might work.
Lawrence coughed again, then spoke. "There are places on the road to the village where wild dogs have started to appear. It'll be dangerous come nightfall. So if you wouldn't mind..." He paused and checked Holo's reaction.
She was still looking down at her hands, but he detected little of the loneliness from before.
"...I would very much appreciate your help."
Lawrence emphasized the very much and could not help but notice Holo's ears twitch at the words.
But she did not immediately answer, probably thanks to her pride as a wisewolf. No doubt she considered it beneath her dignity to wag her tail and happily reply to the words for which she had been hoping.
Holo sighed a long-suffering sigh, gathering her tail up in her arms and giving it a long stroke. Then, when she finally did look up at him, her upturned gaze gave Lawrence the briefest vision of a mightily put-upon princess.
"Must I?" she said.
It seemed she wanted Lawrence to truly insist upon her presence. Either that, or she was simply amusing herself by watching him fold.
This was Lawrence's own fault for leaving her alone. The fault was his to bear.
"I need this favor of you," he said still more desperately, and Holo had again turned away, her ears twitching again.
Holo lightly raised her hand to her mouth and coughed, probably to disguise the laugh that threatened to burst out. "Very well, I suppose," she said with a sigh, then glanced back at her companion.
Craftsmen were acknowledged as such because they finished the job down to the last knot. Lawrence pushed his exasperation and amusement down and responded with a wide smile. "Thank you!"
At this finally, Holo let slip a guffaw.
"Aye," she said ticklishly, nodding her head. It was proof she was truly pleased.
In any case, he had managed the tightrope walk across Holo's foul temper. He heaved a sigh and removed his coat and belt. Ordinarily, he would have folded his coat over the back of the chair, but he lacked the energy to even do that much. What he wanted to do most of all was to become horizontal and go to sleep.
And in just a moment that pleasure would be his.
Lawrence's mind was halfway to the land of sleep when Holo stood and spoke. "Just what are you doing?"
He was unsure whether the sudden darkness in his vision was because he had closed his eyes or not. "Uhn?"
"Come, now that I'm coming along there's no need for rest. We haven't any time for dawdling."
Lawrence rubbed his eyes and willed them open, then looked up at Holo. She was busily putting on her hooded coat.
Surely this was a joke.
He was not angry so much as aghast while he watched Holo prepare. Her innocent smile struck him as cruel, her happily swishing tail as terrifying. She finished dressing, then approached him with that same smile.
She has to be joking. She has to be, Lawrence prayed to himself, but Holo continued to approach.


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

Input:
Holo had probably been worried about him, but more than that, she had been lonely, left shut up in the room like this.
She had once said that loneliness was a fatal illness and had in the past put her very life at risk for Lawrence. He had not forgotten her, nor this. He could never forget.
That was why he had worked himself to the point of exhaustion for her, but simply feeling this way would not tell her anything. Just as Holo looking down at him from the window had not.
Even if it was a simple, tedious job, and even if it would only worsen her own exhaustion, Holo wanted Lawrence to bring her along. Anything was better than being left alone, she bravely seemed to think.
Lawrence cleared his throat to buy himself some time.
Since this was Holo, if he was to just up and invite her along, it would be inviting either her exasperation or her anger, and if she felt she was being pitied, it might become an issue of wounded pride.
He had to find some sort of pretext. Lawrence put his mind to work harder than he ever did while plying his trade and finally came up with something that he thought might work.
Lawrence coughed again, then spoke. "There are places on the road to the village where wild dogs have started to appear. It'll be dangerous come nightfall. So if you wouldn't mind..." He paused and checked Holo's reaction.
She was still looking down at her hands, but he detected little of the loneliness from before.
"...I would very much appreciate your help."
Lawrence emphasized the very much and could not help but notice Holo's ears twitch at the words.
But she did not immediately answer, probably thanks to her pride as a wisewolf. No doubt she considered it beneath her dignity to wag her tail and happily reply to the words for which she had been hoping.
Holo sighed a long-suffering sigh, gathering her tail up in her arms and giving it a long stroke. Then, when she finally did look up at him, her upturned gaze gave Lawrence the briefest vision of a mightily put-upon princess.
"Must I?" she said.
It seemed she wanted Lawrence to truly insist upon her presence. Either that, or she was simply amusing herself by watching him fold.
This was Lawrence's own fault for leaving her alone. The fault was his to bear.
"I need this favor of you," he said still more desperately, and Holo had again turned away, her ears twitching again.
Holo lightly raised her hand to her mouth and coughed, probably to disguise the laugh that threatened to burst out. "Very well, I suppose," she said with a sigh, then glanced back at her companion.
Craftsmen were acknowledged as such because they finished the job down to the last knot. Lawrence pushed his exasperation and amusement down and responded with a wide smile. "Thank you!"
At this finally, Holo let slip a guffaw.
"Aye," she said ticklishly, nodding her head. It was proof she was truly pleased.
In any case, he had managed the tightrope walk across Holo's foul temper. He heaved a sigh and removed his coat and belt. Ordinarily, he would have folded his coat over the back of the chair, but he lacked the energy to even do that much. What he wanted to do most of all was to become horizontal and go to sleep.
And in just a moment that pleasure would be his.
Lawrence's mind was halfway to the land of sleep when Holo stood and spoke. "Just what are you doing?"
He was unsure whether the sudden darkness in his vision was because he had closed his eyes or not. "Uhn?"
"Come, now that I'm coming along there's no need for rest. We haven't any time for dawdling."
Lawrence rubbed his eyes and willed them open, then looked up at Holo. She was busily putting on her hooded coat.
Surely this was a joke.
He was not angry so much as aghast while he watched Holo prepare. Her innocent smile struck him as cruel, her happily swishing tail as terrifying. She finished dressing, then approached him with that same smile.
She has to be joking. She has to be, Lawrence prayed to himself, but Holo continued to approach.

Output:
But even Lawrence had his limits. Almost unconsciously, he brushed her off. "Please, have some mercy, I'm not a cart horse—"
The moment he said it, he knew he had blundered, and he looked up at Holo to see her reaction.
But having been brushed off, Holo was simply looking back down at him with a mischievous smile on her face.
"Aye. That's true."
Lawrence wondered if she was angry, but then Holo sat herself down next to him on the bed. "Heh. Did you suppose I was angry?" Her delighted expression made it clear her goal all along had been to rile him.
In other words, he had been made sport of.
"You imagine that resting now will let you earn more efficiently at night, when traffic is lighter?" It was easy enough to discern as much, watching the comings and goings out the window for as long as Holo had.
Lawrence nodded, his eyes pleading with her to let him sleep.
"And that is why you are a fool, then." She grabbed hold of his beard and tugged his head to and fro. He was so sleepy and exhausted that it actually felt nice.
"You carried loads all night, napped in the driver's seat, left without even having breakfast with me, worked until just now, and made—what, seven pieces?"
"...That's right."
"I remember well enough that there are thirty-five trenni to a lumione, which leaves how much time until you've made enough to buy the honeyed peach preserves?"
It was a sum even a child could do. Lawrence answered, "Four days."
"Mm. Too much time. And moreover"—she ignored his attempt to interrupt—"the loading dock is a madhouse. Do you suppose you're the only one who's had the notion to give up, rest, and return in the evening?"
Holo made a proud expression, and beneath her hood, her ears twitched. No doubt from here her ears could hear all the conversations around the loading dock.
"Is everybody else thinking the same thing...?"
"Aye. It'll be just as bad come night. The dockhands themselves need rest, too. And if you're already so profoundly exhausted, consider five days of this? No doubt you'll need more rest, and it will be more like seven or eight."
Lawrence had the feeling her estimate was more or less accurate. He nodded vaguely, and she lightly poked his head.
In his state, he could not even summon the energy to oppose this attack. As he lay faceup on the bed, he moved only his eyes over to regard the girl.
"What should we do?"
"First, pray the honeyed peach preserves don't sell."
Lawrence closed his eyes. "And next?" he asked, already half-asleep.
"Think of a different business."
"...A different...?" When so much money could be earned simply hauling cargo, it was foolish to contemplate anything else, Lawrence thought in the darkness. But in the instant before his consciousness faded entirely, Holo's voice reached his ears.
"I've heard the chatter here. If you were going to use me to scatter the wild dogs anyway, there's a much better way to make money. You see..."
As he slept, Lawrence calculated the potential profits.
At the stables, Lawrence rented a two-wheeled cart.
It had a smaller bed and a more cramped driver's seat, but it was lighter and thus could be pulled more quickly than his wagon.
Next, he collected rope, blankets, baskets, a bit of board, and a good amount of small coins.
Having done all this, Lawrence pulled the cart around to a certain building, whereupon the shopkeeper came running out as though he'd been waiting.
"Ah, I've been waiting! You got them?"
"Aye, and you?"
"Everything's ready. Honestly, I thought you were nothing more than other travelers when you came knocking on my door so early this morning—never thought you'd ask for such work." The man who laughed heartily was an innkeeper, though his apron was messy with oil and bread crumbs. "I hear you went to the bakers with your request last night. Reckon any craftsman that ends up rising earlier than a priest'll be none too happy about it!"


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

Input:
But even Lawrence had his limits. Almost unconsciously, he brushed her off. "Please, have some mercy, I'm not a cart horse—"
The moment he said it, he knew he had blundered, and he looked up at Holo to see her reaction.
But having been brushed off, Holo was simply looking back down at him with a mischievous smile on her face.
"Aye. That's true."
Lawrence wondered if she was angry, but then Holo sat herself down next to him on the bed. "Heh. Did you suppose I was angry?" Her delighted expression made it clear her goal all along had been to rile him.
In other words, he had been made sport of.
"You imagine that resting now will let you earn more efficiently at night, when traffic is lighter?" It was easy enough to discern as much, watching the comings and goings out the window for as long as Holo had.
Lawrence nodded, his eyes pleading with her to let him sleep.
"And that is why you are a fool, then." She grabbed hold of his beard and tugged his head to and fro. He was so sleepy and exhausted that it actually felt nice.
"You carried loads all night, napped in the driver's seat, left without even having breakfast with me, worked until just now, and made—what, seven pieces?"
"...That's right."
"I remember well enough that there are thirty-five trenni to a lumione, which leaves how much time until you've made enough to buy the honeyed peach preserves?"
It was a sum even a child could do. Lawrence answered, "Four days."
"Mm. Too much time. And moreover"—she ignored his attempt to interrupt—"the loading dock is a madhouse. Do you suppose you're the only one who's had the notion to give up, rest, and return in the evening?"
Holo made a proud expression, and beneath her hood, her ears twitched. No doubt from here her ears could hear all the conversations around the loading dock.
"Is everybody else thinking the same thing...?"
"Aye. It'll be just as bad come night. The dockhands themselves need rest, too. And if you're already so profoundly exhausted, consider five days of this? No doubt you'll need more rest, and it will be more like seven or eight."
Lawrence had the feeling her estimate was more or less accurate. He nodded vaguely, and she lightly poked his head.
In his state, he could not even summon the energy to oppose this attack. As he lay faceup on the bed, he moved only his eyes over to regard the girl.
"What should we do?"
"First, pray the honeyed peach preserves don't sell."
Lawrence closed his eyes. "And next?" he asked, already half-asleep.
"Think of a different business."
"...A different...?" When so much money could be earned simply hauling cargo, it was foolish to contemplate anything else, Lawrence thought in the darkness. But in the instant before his consciousness faded entirely, Holo's voice reached his ears.
"I've heard the chatter here. If you were going to use me to scatter the wild dogs anyway, there's a much better way to make money. You see..."
As he slept, Lawrence calculated the potential profits.
At the stables, Lawrence rented a two-wheeled cart.
It had a smaller bed and a more cramped driver's seat, but it was lighter and thus could be pulled more quickly than his wagon.
Next, he collected rope, blankets, baskets, a bit of board, and a good amount of small coins.
Having done all this, Lawrence pulled the cart around to a certain building, whereupon the shopkeeper came running out as though he'd been waiting.
"Ah, I've been waiting! You got them?"
"Aye, and you?"
"Everything's ready. Honestly, I thought you were nothing more than other travelers when you came knocking on my door so early this morning—never thought you'd ask for such work." The man who laughed heartily was an innkeeper, though his apron was messy with oil and bread crumbs. "I hear you went to the bakers with your request last night. Reckon any craftsman that ends up rising earlier than a priest'll be none too happy about it!"

Output:
"That'll be enough for fifty people all together. When I sent the lads to the butchers', he wanted to know just how many people were staying at my place!"
"I truly appreciate it on such short notice. My thanks," said Lawrence.
"It's nothing. The guild dictates how much money we can make with its rules—if this helps me make a little more, it's a cheap favor indeed."
The two apprentices set the cauldron in the small cart bed and tied it down with the rope. In the cauldron was roast mutton with plenty of garlic, and Lawrence could still hear the fat bubbling.
The next item brought over was the large basket, which contained a heap of notched loaves of bread. Next came two full casks of middling wine.
With all this, the two-wheeled cart was fully loaded. With the help of the innkeeper, Lawrence secured the load with rope. The cart horse looked back at them, which probably was not a coincidence.
I have to haul all this? is no doubt what it would have said, if it could speak.
"Still, to take the money, even with this much preparation...well," said the innkeeper deliberately, once he had finished counting up the remainder of the payment for the food. He gave his apprentices a few of the more worn coins—perhaps he always did as much when he had an unexpected little windfall like this. They returned to the inn delighted.
"Will you really be all right?" he asked. "The road to Le Houaix cuts right alongside the forest."
"When you say the forest, you're talking about the wolves and wild dogs, I suppose?"
"That's right. The Ohm Company built that road in a hurry to take materials to Le Houaix. All the dogs there came from the city, so they've no fear of humans. To be honest, it seems dangerous to carry something that smells so delicious right through that. I'll bet there were others who thought to do the same thing but gave up, owing to the danger and all."
Lawrence thought back to the conversation that Holo had overheard from her room. If something could be done about the wolves, then there was money to be made selling food and water in Le Houaix, where there was more demand than supply.
"Ha-ha. It'll be all right," said Lawrence with a smile, looking at the two-wheeled cart.
There was someone covering its cargo with wooden boards. Someone slight, delicate, with a casually tied skirt from which seemed to peek a furred sash or lining of some kind. Once she was finished securing the boards, that girl sat atop them with a satisfied smile on her face.
When the innkeeper noticed what Lawrence was looking at, Lawrence smiled. "They put a goddess of good fortune on the prow of a ship to guard against sea devils and disasters. She's mine."
"Oh ho...but still, against those dogs?" said the innkeeper doubtfully, but Lawrence only gave him a confident nod and said no more.
Running an inn, the innkeeper had surely seen people from many different regions employ many different good-luck charms. Lawrence would probably be fine admitting to it, so long as he avoided making any offerings to frogs or snakes.
And since he had already given the innkeeper himself a nice offering in the form of some lucrative side business, the man had no reason to complain.
"May God's blessing go with you," said the innkeeper as he took a couple of steps back from the cart.
"My thanks, truly. Oh, and—"
"Yes?"
Lawrence jumped up onto the driver's seat of the cart before he spoke. Two-wheeled carts were not especially rare, but that changed when there was a fetching lass in the cart bed. Passersby stared curiously, and children running in the streets waved innocently to Holo as though she was part of some festival.
"I may come again in the evening for the same order."
The innkeeper's lips went round, and he then smiled a toothy smile. "My inn's full up, so I've plenty of help. The guild rules don't say anything about putting your guests to work!" he said with a laugh.
"We'll be off, then."
"And good travels to you!"
With a clop-clop, the cart began to move.


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

Input:
"That'll be enough for fifty people all together. When I sent the lads to the butchers', he wanted to know just how many people were staying at my place!"
"I truly appreciate it on such short notice. My thanks," said Lawrence.
"It's nothing. The guild dictates how much money we can make with its rules—if this helps me make a little more, it's a cheap favor indeed."
The two apprentices set the cauldron in the small cart bed and tied it down with the rope. In the cauldron was roast mutton with plenty of garlic, and Lawrence could still hear the fat bubbling.
The next item brought over was the large basket, which contained a heap of notched loaves of bread. Next came two full casks of middling wine.
With all this, the two-wheeled cart was fully loaded. With the help of the innkeeper, Lawrence secured the load with rope. The cart horse looked back at them, which probably was not a coincidence.
I have to haul all this? is no doubt what it would have said, if it could speak.
"Still, to take the money, even with this much preparation...well," said the innkeeper deliberately, once he had finished counting up the remainder of the payment for the food. He gave his apprentices a few of the more worn coins—perhaps he always did as much when he had an unexpected little windfall like this. They returned to the inn delighted.
"Will you really be all right?" he asked. "The road to Le Houaix cuts right alongside the forest."
"When you say the forest, you're talking about the wolves and wild dogs, I suppose?"
"That's right. The Ohm Company built that road in a hurry to take materials to Le Houaix. All the dogs there came from the city, so they've no fear of humans. To be honest, it seems dangerous to carry something that smells so delicious right through that. I'll bet there were others who thought to do the same thing but gave up, owing to the danger and all."
Lawrence thought back to the conversation that Holo had overheard from her room. If something could be done about the wolves, then there was money to be made selling food and water in Le Houaix, where there was more demand than supply.
"Ha-ha. It'll be all right," said Lawrence with a smile, looking at the two-wheeled cart.
There was someone covering its cargo with wooden boards. Someone slight, delicate, with a casually tied skirt from which seemed to peek a furred sash or lining of some kind. Once she was finished securing the boards, that girl sat atop them with a satisfied smile on her face.
When the innkeeper noticed what Lawrence was looking at, Lawrence smiled. "They put a goddess of good fortune on the prow of a ship to guard against sea devils and disasters. She's mine."
"Oh ho...but still, against those dogs?" said the innkeeper doubtfully, but Lawrence only gave him a confident nod and said no more.
Running an inn, the innkeeper had surely seen people from many different regions employ many different good-luck charms. Lawrence would probably be fine admitting to it, so long as he avoided making any offerings to frogs or snakes.
And since he had already given the innkeeper himself a nice offering in the form of some lucrative side business, the man had no reason to complain.
"May God's blessing go with you," said the innkeeper as he took a couple of steps back from the cart.
"My thanks, truly. Oh, and—"
"Yes?"
Lawrence jumped up onto the driver's seat of the cart before he spoke. Two-wheeled carts were not especially rare, but that changed when there was a fetching lass in the cart bed. Passersby stared curiously, and children running in the streets waved innocently to Holo as though she was part of some festival.
"I may come again in the evening for the same order."
The innkeeper's lips went round, and he then smiled a toothy smile. "My inn's full up, so I've plenty of help. The guild rules don't say anything about putting your guests to work!" he said with a laugh.
"We'll be off, then."
"And good travels to you!"
With a clop-clop, the cart began to move.

Output:
"Now then, are you prepared for this?"
Lawrence's question was answered with a nod from Holo, who leaned forward from her sitting position to drape her arms around his neck from behind. "I'm the faster one, you know. A horse's speed is nothing to mine."
"Yes, but that's when you're on your own feet."
Normally, it was Lawrence who clung to Holo. Similarly, when in business, it was nerve-racking to conduct a trade with someone else's money.
Holo snuggled her arms around Lawrence and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Well, I'd best hold on tight, then, hadn't I? Just as you always do—desperately, trying to keep from crying."
"Come on, I don't cry..."
"Heh-heh-heh." The breath from Holo's snigger tickled Lawrence's ear.
He sighed a long-suffering sigh. "I won't stop even if you do cry."
"As though I'd—!" Holo's words after that were cut off by the sound of the reins smacking against the cart horse's backside as Lawrence gave them a snap.
The horse began to run and the two wheels to turn.
The question of whether Holo had or had not cried would surely be a source of many quarrels to come.
The road could be summarized with the word bracing.
A two-wheeled cart was very limited in the amount of cargo it could carry, and it was far less stable than a wagon with four wheels. But in exchange, its speed was a beautiful thing.
Lawrence did not often use a cart, but it was perfect for the needs of the moment, when he wanted to transport the food while it was still hot. As he sat in the driver's seat gripping the reins, it felt as though he were controlling the landscape itself as it rushed by.
Holo had clung to Lawrence nervously at first, but very quickly she became used to the accommodations. By the time they neared the forest, Holo was content to hold on to Lawrence's shoulders with her hands, standing in the cart bed and letting the air rush over her as she laughed.
Given the rumors of wild dogs, the other travelers on the road mostly kept their eyes warily downcast, and a few of them had swords drawn and ready. To see a girl laughing so merrily in a two-wheeler, they must've felt ridiculous for being so terrified of anything like a dog.
The faces of the people they passed lit up as they went by, and they would raise their hands and wave. It happened more than a few times that Holo would reach up to return their waves and in the process nearly lose her balance and fall from the wagon. Each time, she would end up having to half strangle Lawrence's neck to keep her grip, but her snickering made it difficult for Lawrence to feel much alarm.
Given her lively good cheer, it was no wonder the wolf had been so enraged to spend her day locked up in a room.
As they went, a howl sounded from within the forest, and everyone on the road froze and looked to the trees.
Then Holo howled herself, as though she had been waiting for that moment, and everyone turned and looked at her in shock.
They seemed to realize the extent of their own cowardice, and as though to admit the rightness of the girl's courage in the cart, they all howled with her.
Lawrence and Holo arrived in the village of Le Houaix after a trip that could never have been so enjoyable taken alone.
The throng of people assembled there all gazed in curiosity at this cart, which contained not waterwheel parts but casks, a blanket-wrapped cauldron, and atop all those, a girl. Lawrence stopped their vehicle amid the gazes, then helped Holo to the ground. She seemed so pleased he would've been unsurprised to hear the swish-swish of her tail wagging. He left her in charge of setting up while he went off to find and negotiate with the manager of the village. He finished by pressing several silver coins into the man's hand, and in exchange, he received permission to sell food in the village since the workers were so busy with work they did not even have time to fetch water from the river.


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

Input:
"Now then, are you prepared for this?"
Lawrence's question was answered with a nod from Holo, who leaned forward from her sitting position to drape her arms around his neck from behind. "I'm the faster one, you know. A horse's speed is nothing to mine."
"Yes, but that's when you're on your own feet."
Normally, it was Lawrence who clung to Holo. Similarly, when in business, it was nerve-racking to conduct a trade with someone else's money.
Holo snuggled her arms around Lawrence and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Well, I'd best hold on tight, then, hadn't I? Just as you always do—desperately, trying to keep from crying."
"Come on, I don't cry..."
"Heh-heh-heh." The breath from Holo's snigger tickled Lawrence's ear.
He sighed a long-suffering sigh. "I won't stop even if you do cry."
"As though I'd—!" Holo's words after that were cut off by the sound of the reins smacking against the cart horse's backside as Lawrence gave them a snap.
The horse began to run and the two wheels to turn.
The question of whether Holo had or had not cried would surely be a source of many quarrels to come.
The road could be summarized with the word bracing.
A two-wheeled cart was very limited in the amount of cargo it could carry, and it was far less stable than a wagon with four wheels. But in exchange, its speed was a beautiful thing.
Lawrence did not often use a cart, but it was perfect for the needs of the moment, when he wanted to transport the food while it was still hot. As he sat in the driver's seat gripping the reins, it felt as though he were controlling the landscape itself as it rushed by.
Holo had clung to Lawrence nervously at first, but very quickly she became used to the accommodations. By the time they neared the forest, Holo was content to hold on to Lawrence's shoulders with her hands, standing in the cart bed and letting the air rush over her as she laughed.
Given the rumors of wild dogs, the other travelers on the road mostly kept their eyes warily downcast, and a few of them had swords drawn and ready. To see a girl laughing so merrily in a two-wheeler, they must've felt ridiculous for being so terrified of anything like a dog.
The faces of the people they passed lit up as they went by, and they would raise their hands and wave. It happened more than a few times that Holo would reach up to return their waves and in the process nearly lose her balance and fall from the wagon. Each time, she would end up having to half strangle Lawrence's neck to keep her grip, but her snickering made it difficult for Lawrence to feel much alarm.
Given her lively good cheer, it was no wonder the wolf had been so enraged to spend her day locked up in a room.
As they went, a howl sounded from within the forest, and everyone on the road froze and looked to the trees.
Then Holo howled herself, as though she had been waiting for that moment, and everyone turned and looked at her in shock.
They seemed to realize the extent of their own cowardice, and as though to admit the rightness of the girl's courage in the cart, they all howled with her.
Lawrence and Holo arrived in the village of Le Houaix after a trip that could never have been so enjoyable taken alone.
The throng of people assembled there all gazed in curiosity at this cart, which contained not waterwheel parts but casks, a blanket-wrapped cauldron, and atop all those, a girl. Lawrence stopped their vehicle amid the gazes, then helped Holo to the ground. She seemed so pleased he would've been unsurprised to hear the swish-swish of her tail wagging. He left her in charge of setting up while he went off to find and negotiate with the manager of the village. He finished by pressing several silver coins into the man's hand, and in exchange, he received permission to sell food in the village since the workers were so busy with work they did not even have time to fetch water from the river.

Output:
"Hey, you there! Don't crowd! Line up properly!"
They were slicing the already thinly sliced meat in two, then selling it between pieces of bread. That was all, but they were still too busy for any amount of politeness. The cause of this was the wine they had brought, thinking they would be able to sell it at a fine price. Portioning it out took extra time and effort—more than twice as much. Lawrence had done this sort of thing once or twice before but had totally forgotten about that little fact.
They'd managed to sell about half of what they had brought when a man who looked to be a carpenter approached them from behind. "My comrades have been toiling away on empty stomachs," he said.
Holo was originally a wolf-god of wheat and was thus always sensitive to manners of food. She looked at Lawrence, wordlessly insisting that they assist.
There was yet meat in the cauldron. Traffic continued to stream into the village, so if he stayed where he was, he would sell out before long.
Lawrence was a merchant and was happy as long as his wares sold. There seemed to him little point in moving just to accomplish the same task—but then he changed his mind.
Given the people going back and forth between the village and the trading company, news of the business he and Holo were doing was bound to spread. They would do well to expand their market by selling a bit of food to the craftsmen.
Lawrence sank into silence as he thought it over but was brought back to his senses by Holo stepping slightly on his foot.
"Why, aren't you making a cunning face?" she said.
"I am a merchant, after all. Right," said Lawrence. He finished placing a slice of meat between pieces of bread and handing the sandwich to a customer, then put the cauldron's lid back on top of it and turned to the craftsman. "I've enough left for twenty men, say. Will that do?"
The craftsmen working alongside the river were like ravenous wolves.
The Ohm Company, which had taken on the construction project thanks to their boundless lust for money, had hired these craftsmen but failed to provide food or lodging for them, so the men had gotten by on nothing but an evening meal provided by the villagers out of pure kindness.
Moreover, since the work was paid piecemeal and done on a deadline, the workers were reluctant to take the time to go all the way back to the village for a meal. Even once they became aware of Lawrence and Holo's arrival at the mill, they regarded them with only a brief, sad glare before turning their attention back to their work. The ones working on the wheelhouse's axles or interior did not even show their faces.
Lawrence carried the wine cask, and Holo pulled one of the small handcarts the local women used to move heavy loads, which in turn was loaded with the cauldron and bread basket. They shared a glance.
Evidently they would be peddling the food on foot.
"What, that all? It won't be near enough!" So said everyone they sold bread to, but the complaint always came with a smile.
Apart from those who made their living under a workshop's roof, any carpenter was happy to brag about the terrible conditions under which he'd worked. So while each and every one of them had to be famished, none demanded a greater share of meat or bread.
Far from it—they asked Lawrence to give food to as many men as he could manage. It was impossible to build a great water mill alone, and if even one man fell it would be trouble for all, they said. Holo had spent so much time watching the workers in her wheat fields that she seemed to empathize with this.
But she did not just empathize—she seemed to take great pleasure in bantering with the workers, and Lawrence could hardly fail to notice her ladling out extragenerous servings of wine.
Of course, he said nothing.
"Two pieces of bread here, please!" came a shouted call from one of the millhouses that already housed a millstone.


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

Input:
"Hey, you there! Don't crowd! Line up properly!"
They were slicing the already thinly sliced meat in two, then selling it between pieces of bread. That was all, but they were still too busy for any amount of politeness. The cause of this was the wine they had brought, thinking they would be able to sell it at a fine price. Portioning it out took extra time and effort—more than twice as much. Lawrence had done this sort of thing once or twice before but had totally forgotten about that little fact.
They'd managed to sell about half of what they had brought when a man who looked to be a carpenter approached them from behind. "My comrades have been toiling away on empty stomachs," he said.
Holo was originally a wolf-god of wheat and was thus always sensitive to manners of food. She looked at Lawrence, wordlessly insisting that they assist.
There was yet meat in the cauldron. Traffic continued to stream into the village, so if he stayed where he was, he would sell out before long.
Lawrence was a merchant and was happy as long as his wares sold. There seemed to him little point in moving just to accomplish the same task—but then he changed his mind.
Given the people going back and forth between the village and the trading company, news of the business he and Holo were doing was bound to spread. They would do well to expand their market by selling a bit of food to the craftsmen.
Lawrence sank into silence as he thought it over but was brought back to his senses by Holo stepping slightly on his foot.
"Why, aren't you making a cunning face?" she said.
"I am a merchant, after all. Right," said Lawrence. He finished placing a slice of meat between pieces of bread and handing the sandwich to a customer, then put the cauldron's lid back on top of it and turned to the craftsman. "I've enough left for twenty men, say. Will that do?"
The craftsmen working alongside the river were like ravenous wolves.
The Ohm Company, which had taken on the construction project thanks to their boundless lust for money, had hired these craftsmen but failed to provide food or lodging for them, so the men had gotten by on nothing but an evening meal provided by the villagers out of pure kindness.
Moreover, since the work was paid piecemeal and done on a deadline, the workers were reluctant to take the time to go all the way back to the village for a meal. Even once they became aware of Lawrence and Holo's arrival at the mill, they regarded them with only a brief, sad glare before turning their attention back to their work. The ones working on the wheelhouse's axles or interior did not even show their faces.
Lawrence carried the wine cask, and Holo pulled one of the small handcarts the local women used to move heavy loads, which in turn was loaded with the cauldron and bread basket. They shared a glance.
Evidently they would be peddling the food on foot.
"What, that all? It won't be near enough!" So said everyone they sold bread to, but the complaint always came with a smile.
Apart from those who made their living under a workshop's roof, any carpenter was happy to brag about the terrible conditions under which he'd worked. So while each and every one of them had to be famished, none demanded a greater share of meat or bread.
Far from it—they asked Lawrence to give food to as many men as he could manage. It was impossible to build a great water mill alone, and if even one man fell it would be trouble for all, they said. Holo had spent so much time watching the workers in her wheat fields that she seemed to empathize with this.
But she did not just empathize—she seemed to take great pleasure in bantering with the workers, and Lawrence could hardly fail to notice her ladling out extragenerous servings of wine.
Of course, he said nothing.
"Two pieces of bread here, please!" came a shouted call from one of the millhouses that already housed a millstone.

Output:
Holo sneezed several times and decided to wait outside the shack. Perhaps her excellent sense of smell made her that much more sensitive.
Lawrence sliced off two pieces of bread, then ascended the steeply rising stairs.
They creaked alarmingly as he went, and there was not much room between his head and the ceiling. The men there were covered in sawdust and were fighting with files and saws to get the axle gearing to properly mesh.
"I've brought the bread!"
A watermill could be surprisingly loud, and it was—all the more so in the small shack, with the creaking and groaning of the turning axle.
Yet at Lawrence's yell, the two men suddenly looked up at him and rushed at him with surprising alacrity.
Holo laughed at him when Lawrence later told her he was afraid he would be knocked back down the stairs.
When Lawrence sighed because he wished she would be a little more worried about him, Holo slowly and gently brushed the sawdust from his face and smiled.
The wheel turned, rising, then falling, then rising again.
Holo was like a waterwheel, like a mallet, and Lawrence was easily undone by her.
"Well, I think we've about made the rounds."
"I'd think so. Dividing the meat and bread in half we managed to get to most everybody."
Holo pulled the cart that was carrying the wine cask and cauldron, and on her chest was a wooden pendant, carved in the shape of a hare, that one of the carpenters had given her.
"I'd like to head straight back to the village, put in another order, and see if we can't double our business by noon tomorrow."
"Mm. Still, how much did we make in the end?"
"Well, now...wait just a moment..." Lawrence counted the various costs on his fingers, and the figure he arrived at was surprisingly low. "Around four trenni at best, after we change the money."
"Only four? But we sold so much!"
It was true that Lawrence's coin purse was heavy with coppers, but poor-quality coppers were never going to amount to much, no matter how many you had.
"I'd feel better pushing prices higher if we were selling to greedy merchants, but the craftsmen aren't making that much. So that's how it is."
Given that Holo was the one who had suggested selling food to the craftsmen, she could not very well argue with this and pulled her chin in with irritation.
Of course, doing business that people were so grateful to receive came with benefits other than money. Even when profit margins were slim and the dangers great, Lawrence could rarely resist the trade routes to lonely villages since he could never forget how it felt to bring the villagers what they needed.
Lawrence put his hand on Holo's head and patted it a bit roughly. "Still, we'll bring double the food tomorrow and turn double the profit. If we make arrangements ahead, we'll be able to sell at night, too, which will double our profit again. We'll have those honeyed peach preserves before you know it."
Holo nodded at Lawrence's words, and her stomach growled almost in time with her nod.
Her ears twitched ticklishly under his hand, and Lawrence pulled away. He could not very well pretend not to have heard the growl, so he just gave an honest chuckle.
Holo made ready to play-punch Lawrence's arm, but just before she did, Lawrence's stomach itself growled with fortuitous timing.
Their constant struggle to keep up with sales of meat and bread had kept their hunger at bay, but now it seemed to have returned with a vengeance. Lawrence met Holo's eyes. He smiled at her again, and Holo's angry expression immediately softened.
Lawrence glanced about their surroundings, then reached for the cart.
"What is it?" Holo asked.
"Oh, nothing," said Lawrence. He removed the cauldron's lid, pulled out the last slice of meat sticking to the inside, along with a nearly crumbled piece of bread. "I saved this. Thought we could eat it on the way back."


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

Input:
Holo sneezed several times and decided to wait outside the shack. Perhaps her excellent sense of smell made her that much more sensitive.
Lawrence sliced off two pieces of bread, then ascended the steeply rising stairs.
They creaked alarmingly as he went, and there was not much room between his head and the ceiling. The men there were covered in sawdust and were fighting with files and saws to get the axle gearing to properly mesh.
"I've brought the bread!"
A watermill could be surprisingly loud, and it was—all the more so in the small shack, with the creaking and groaning of the turning axle.
Yet at Lawrence's yell, the two men suddenly looked up at him and rushed at him with surprising alacrity.
Holo laughed at him when Lawrence later told her he was afraid he would be knocked back down the stairs.
When Lawrence sighed because he wished she would be a little more worried about him, Holo slowly and gently brushed the sawdust from his face and smiled.
The wheel turned, rising, then falling, then rising again.
Holo was like a waterwheel, like a mallet, and Lawrence was easily undone by her.
"Well, I think we've about made the rounds."
"I'd think so. Dividing the meat and bread in half we managed to get to most everybody."
Holo pulled the cart that was carrying the wine cask and cauldron, and on her chest was a wooden pendant, carved in the shape of a hare, that one of the carpenters had given her.
"I'd like to head straight back to the village, put in another order, and see if we can't double our business by noon tomorrow."
"Mm. Still, how much did we make in the end?"
"Well, now...wait just a moment..." Lawrence counted the various costs on his fingers, and the figure he arrived at was surprisingly low. "Around four trenni at best, after we change the money."
"Only four? But we sold so much!"
It was true that Lawrence's coin purse was heavy with coppers, but poor-quality coppers were never going to amount to much, no matter how many you had.
"I'd feel better pushing prices higher if we were selling to greedy merchants, but the craftsmen aren't making that much. So that's how it is."
Given that Holo was the one who had suggested selling food to the craftsmen, she could not very well argue with this and pulled her chin in with irritation.
Of course, doing business that people were so grateful to receive came with benefits other than money. Even when profit margins were slim and the dangers great, Lawrence could rarely resist the trade routes to lonely villages since he could never forget how it felt to bring the villagers what they needed.
Lawrence put his hand on Holo's head and patted it a bit roughly. "Still, we'll bring double the food tomorrow and turn double the profit. If we make arrangements ahead, we'll be able to sell at night, too, which will double our profit again. We'll have those honeyed peach preserves before you know it."
Holo nodded at Lawrence's words, and her stomach growled almost in time with her nod.
Her ears twitched ticklishly under his hand, and Lawrence pulled away. He could not very well pretend not to have heard the growl, so he just gave an honest chuckle.
Holo made ready to play-punch Lawrence's arm, but just before she did, Lawrence's stomach itself growled with fortuitous timing.
Their constant struggle to keep up with sales of meat and bread had kept their hunger at bay, but now it seemed to have returned with a vengeance. Lawrence met Holo's eyes. He smiled at her again, and Holo's angry expression immediately softened.
Lawrence glanced about their surroundings, then reached for the cart.
"What is it?" Holo asked.
"Oh, nothing," said Lawrence. He removed the cauldron's lid, pulled out the last slice of meat sticking to the inside, along with a nearly crumbled piece of bread. "I saved this. Thought we could eat it on the way back."

Output:
Lawrence cut the meat with a greasy knife as Holo's tail wagged.
"Still, you."
"What?"
"You seem to have missed the crucial point again."
The cheap mutton was full of gristle, so cutting it took some time, but Lawrence finally looked back up at Holo. "The crucial point?"
"Mm. If you were planning all along to reveal this plan, you should've used nicer meat. This meat is merely adequate."
Apparently it had been too much to trust Holo to suffer through skipping lunch. Of course, it was very like her to have been watching for openings to secretly sneak bites of meat throughout the day.
Lawrence sighed. "I hadn't noticed," he said with a rueful smile.
He sliced the bread in two, put meat atop each, and then after a moment of indecision, he gave the larger piece to Holo.
Her tail was as honest as a puppy's, and somehow, so was her tongue. "I understand the carpenters' grumbling all too well now. This isn't nearly enough."
"You're certainly full of complaints. When I was just starting out, I'd eat buds and fruit seeds just to avoid starvation."
Holo bit noisily into the bread and meat, giving Lawrence nothing but an irritated glare, noisily chewing the bite she tore free.
Lawrence put his knife away, and after taking his own serving of bread and replacing the lids of the basket and cauldron, he returned to pulling the cart.
"And you're certainly full of elderly scolding," said Holo (of all things the things to say!) after she finished swallowing the bite.
If the centuries-old wisewolf was saying as much, then all was truly lost.
"It's only reasonable to want to eat more and tastier food. Just as trees wish to grow up and out."
Even rank sophistry like this sounded more or less reasonable when Holo said it, which was patently unfair.
Though she'd eaten the first half of her food in the first bite, the greedy Holo seemed not to want to finish so quickly and instead contented herself to nibble at what remained.
Lawrence watched this childish display and could not help asking, "So you were that hungry, eh?"
If all he had given her were those words, he probably would have gotten an angry glare for his trouble. But her look was more doubtful than angry, since as he spoke, he offered her a new piece of bread.
"God says to share what you have, after all."
Holo looked at him steadily for a moment, then finally popped the rest of her share into her mouth. The bread in Lawrence's hand disappeared moments later.
"Mmph...Sometimes even you...mm...manage to act like a proper male."
Watching Holo talk as she devoured the sandwich half, perhaps wanting the fresher loaf as quickly as possible, was quite enough to make Lawrence feel full.
He smiled as he remembered a certain old travelers' saying about food.
"Still, is this truly all right?" asked Holo, holding the remaining bread in both hands.
Something about her posture made Lawrence doubt she would let the bread go in any case, but she had asked, so he had no choice but to answer. Just as he spoke, he realized what he said was connected to what Holo had said two days earlier.
"Sure, it's fine."
"Mm. Well, in that case..."
"I've already eaten quite enough."
Holo's mouth dropped open, and she froze, only her eyes swiveling to glare at Lawrence.
"What's the matter?" he asked, which made Holo's gaze flick this way and that, disturbed, before settling back on him, harsh.
"Oh, you've already eaten, have you? And here I thought you were being considerate for once...," she grumbled.
"Isn't this the time to put what you said before into action?" Lawrence responded.
"...Huh? Me? What are you..."
It was always Holo who was putting riddles to Lawrence. At seeing her confusion, Lawrence had to admit that he understood the appeal. He had always thought it was out of malice or mean-spiritedness, but having gotten a chance to try it himself, he finally saw why she enjoyed it so much. Holo had closed her mouth and looked back and forth between the bread and Lawrence's face, confused.


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

Input:
Lawrence cut the meat with a greasy knife as Holo's tail wagged.
"Still, you."
"What?"
"You seem to have missed the crucial point again."
The cheap mutton was full of gristle, so cutting it took some time, but Lawrence finally looked back up at Holo. "The crucial point?"
"Mm. If you were planning all along to reveal this plan, you should've used nicer meat. This meat is merely adequate."
Apparently it had been too much to trust Holo to suffer through skipping lunch. Of course, it was very like her to have been watching for openings to secretly sneak bites of meat throughout the day.
Lawrence sighed. "I hadn't noticed," he said with a rueful smile.
He sliced the bread in two, put meat atop each, and then after a moment of indecision, he gave the larger piece to Holo.
Her tail was as honest as a puppy's, and somehow, so was her tongue. "I understand the carpenters' grumbling all too well now. This isn't nearly enough."
"You're certainly full of complaints. When I was just starting out, I'd eat buds and fruit seeds just to avoid starvation."
Holo bit noisily into the bread and meat, giving Lawrence nothing but an irritated glare, noisily chewing the bite she tore free.
Lawrence put his knife away, and after taking his own serving of bread and replacing the lids of the basket and cauldron, he returned to pulling the cart.
"And you're certainly full of elderly scolding," said Holo (of all things the things to say!) after she finished swallowing the bite.
If the centuries-old wisewolf was saying as much, then all was truly lost.
"It's only reasonable to want to eat more and tastier food. Just as trees wish to grow up and out."
Even rank sophistry like this sounded more or less reasonable when Holo said it, which was patently unfair.
Though she'd eaten the first half of her food in the first bite, the greedy Holo seemed not to want to finish so quickly and instead contented herself to nibble at what remained.
Lawrence watched this childish display and could not help asking, "So you were that hungry, eh?"
If all he had given her were those words, he probably would have gotten an angry glare for his trouble. But her look was more doubtful than angry, since as he spoke, he offered her a new piece of bread.
"God says to share what you have, after all."
Holo looked at him steadily for a moment, then finally popped the rest of her share into her mouth. The bread in Lawrence's hand disappeared moments later.
"Mmph...Sometimes even you...mm...manage to act like a proper male."
Watching Holo talk as she devoured the sandwich half, perhaps wanting the fresher loaf as quickly as possible, was quite enough to make Lawrence feel full.
He smiled as he remembered a certain old travelers' saying about food.
"Still, is this truly all right?" asked Holo, holding the remaining bread in both hands.
Something about her posture made Lawrence doubt she would let the bread go in any case, but she had asked, so he had no choice but to answer. Just as he spoke, he realized what he said was connected to what Holo had said two days earlier.
"Sure, it's fine."
"Mm. Well, in that case..."
"I've already eaten quite enough."
Holo's mouth dropped open, and she froze, only her eyes swiveling to glare at Lawrence.
"What's the matter?" he asked, which made Holo's gaze flick this way and that, disturbed, before settling back on him, harsh.
"Oh, you've already eaten, have you? And here I thought you were being considerate for once...," she grumbled.
"Isn't this the time to put what you said before into action?" Lawrence responded.
"...Huh? Me? What are you..."
It was always Holo who was putting riddles to Lawrence. At seeing her confusion, Lawrence had to admit that he understood the appeal. He had always thought it was out of malice or mean-spiritedness, but having gotten a chance to try it himself, he finally saw why she enjoyed it so much. Holo had closed her mouth and looked back and forth between the bread and Lawrence's face, confused.

Output:
Lawrence decided the timing was right, and quoted the old travelers' maxim:
"For tasty food, double the money. To be full, double the amount. So what do you do to double the pleasure of a meal?" Lawrence remembered the riddle Holo had posed to him while she had gazed at the whole roast pig. He smiled and continued, "You add a companion to dine with. Just watching you enjoy the bread is satisfaction enough for me."
He smiled, and Holo looked down, probably more than a little abashed. Of course Lawrence had not intended to attack her, and he truly was content to watch her relish the bread so.
So instead of telling her to eat up and not worry, he teasingly patted her head.
Holo brushed his hand away and held hers out instead. "Do you suppose I could eat the whole loaf after hearing such a thing?" In her hand was a torn-off piece of the bread.
It was not precisely divided, but rather hastily torn in Holo's earnest effort to compromise—which was somehow very like her.
If she really wanted to eat the whole loaf of bread, he did not much mind, but still—!
Lawrence was about to say so, but Holo picked that moment to tease him. "'Twould be an annoyance indeed, to let you have all the fun of indulging."
Lawrence had been ready to reassure Holo that she need not worry about eating all the bread, but now she had done the same thing to him.
"Or do you only care about yourself?"
She was a wisewolf and not only in name.
If he turned her down, it would be proof of his selfishness.
Lawrence gratefully accepted the piece she had so begrudgingly torn off her loaf and bowed. "My thanks."
"Mm." Holo gave a superior nod, her chest puffed out. She bit into her own bread as though this entire exchange were beneath her dignity.
Lawrence, too, ate his bread, then brushed his hands free of the crumbs that lingered.
Holo then grabbed his hand with hers, as though she had been waiting for just that moment.
He was surprised, but not surprised enough to do anything as stupid as looking at her. He smiled wordlessly and squeezed her hand in response.
It was a pleasant winter's afternoon, and the only sound was the rattling of the cart.
End.
***
The towns and villages one encountered while traveling were places where a brief, precious rest could be had and necessary supplies gathered.
These were not limited to food and fuel. Components for repairing the wagon and mending clothes were necessary, as well as information on the condition and security of the road ahead.
The more people were traveling, the more things were required and the more work there was to do.
This was doubly true when one's companion was a selfish princess.
He had come to buy the firewood that was absolutely necessary for keeping warm while making camp on the road, but she merely furrowed her brow.
"...'Tis your coin. Spend it as you will."
Had she ended her sentence with a rising, interrogative tone, Lawrence could have at least enjoyed being charmingly deceived, but her flatly stated remark gave a rather different impression.
Lawrence found this surprising, but there was no reason to doubt that Holo, his traveling companion, would speak words that were utterly contrary to her true feelings.
"Does it bother you?"
"Not particularly," said Holo shortly, looking away. She had a kerchief over her head and a cape about her shoulders, a fox-fur muffler around her neck, and gloves of deerskin—every inch the town lass. Moreover, from beneath her kerchief and down her back flowed a fall of beautiful chestnut hair that would have been the envy of any noblewoman. She had beauty that caught the eye of nearly every passerby.
A poet might say that a girl in her teens was at her loveliest, but Lawrence knew the truth of the matter.
Holo was not a town lass, she was not a girl in her teens, and in point of fact was not even a human. Removing her kerchief would reveal wolf ears and beneath her robe was a magnificent tail.


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

Input:
Lawrence decided the timing was right, and quoted the old travelers' maxim:
"For tasty food, double the money. To be full, double the amount. So what do you do to double the pleasure of a meal?" Lawrence remembered the riddle Holo had posed to him while she had gazed at the whole roast pig. He smiled and continued, "You add a companion to dine with. Just watching you enjoy the bread is satisfaction enough for me."
He smiled, and Holo looked down, probably more than a little abashed. Of course Lawrence had not intended to attack her, and he truly was content to watch her relish the bread so.
So instead of telling her to eat up and not worry, he teasingly patted her head.
Holo brushed his hand away and held hers out instead. "Do you suppose I could eat the whole loaf after hearing such a thing?" In her hand was a torn-off piece of the bread.
It was not precisely divided, but rather hastily torn in Holo's earnest effort to compromise—which was somehow very like her.
If she really wanted to eat the whole loaf of bread, he did not much mind, but still—!
Lawrence was about to say so, but Holo picked that moment to tease him. "'Twould be an annoyance indeed, to let you have all the fun of indulging."
Lawrence had been ready to reassure Holo that she need not worry about eating all the bread, but now she had done the same thing to him.
"Or do you only care about yourself?"
She was a wisewolf and not only in name.
If he turned her down, it would be proof of his selfishness.
Lawrence gratefully accepted the piece she had so begrudgingly torn off her loaf and bowed. "My thanks."
"Mm." Holo gave a superior nod, her chest puffed out. She bit into her own bread as though this entire exchange were beneath her dignity.
Lawrence, too, ate his bread, then brushed his hands free of the crumbs that lingered.
Holo then grabbed his hand with hers, as though she had been waiting for just that moment.
He was surprised, but not surprised enough to do anything as stupid as looking at her. He smiled wordlessly and squeezed her hand in response.
It was a pleasant winter's afternoon, and the only sound was the rattling of the cart.
End.
***
The towns and villages one encountered while traveling were places where a brief, precious rest could be had and necessary supplies gathered.
These were not limited to food and fuel. Components for repairing the wagon and mending clothes were necessary, as well as information on the condition and security of the road ahead.
The more people were traveling, the more things were required and the more work there was to do.
This was doubly true when one's companion was a selfish princess.
He had come to buy the firewood that was absolutely necessary for keeping warm while making camp on the road, but she merely furrowed her brow.
"...'Tis your coin. Spend it as you will."
Had she ended her sentence with a rising, interrogative tone, Lawrence could have at least enjoyed being charmingly deceived, but her flatly stated remark gave a rather different impression.
Lawrence found this surprising, but there was no reason to doubt that Holo, his traveling companion, would speak words that were utterly contrary to her true feelings.
"Does it bother you?"
"Not particularly," said Holo shortly, looking away. She had a kerchief over her head and a cape about her shoulders, a fox-fur muffler around her neck, and gloves of deerskin—every inch the town lass. Moreover, from beneath her kerchief and down her back flowed a fall of beautiful chestnut hair that would have been the envy of any noblewoman. She had beauty that caught the eye of nearly every passerby.
A poet might say that a girl in her teens was at her loveliest, but Lawrence knew the truth of the matter.
Holo was not a town lass, she was not a girl in her teens, and in point of fact was not even a human. Removing her kerchief would reveal wolf ears and beneath her robe was a magnificent tail.

Output:
She was Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu.
Holo thrust out her chest and proclaimed both those names at every opportunity, which only made Lawrence sigh. Calling her a wisewolf always made him feel rather small inside.
"It's not such a great distance to the next town, and it shouldn't be too cold. You can manage a couple of days of cold food, can't you?"
"I told you, spend it as you will."
***
Lawrence and Holo were standing in a shop that sold the fuel travelers needed to provide light and warmth. It was not only travelers, either—all sorts bought the firewood stacked high in front of the shop, as well as the product next to it, which sold as though it would not be outdone.
It was true, though, that compared with firewood it gave a weaker flame, and there was the smell to consider. Given how much more sensitive Holo's nose was than a human's, it was no small burden for her to bear.
But—it was so cheap.
Merchants would blind themselves to almost anything if it was cheap enough—yes, and plug their noses, too.
What was it that Holo found distasteful? And what was so much cheaper than firewood? Peat.
"So, what'll it be, sir? I can't have you loitering around my shop all day." The shopkeeper laid a hand on his woodpile beneath the eaves and smiled a rueful smile.
He seemed half-sympathetic to Lawrence's problem with this finicky traveling companion and half-amused at Lawrence getting what he deserved.
Lawrence himself had felt that way at various points during his travels alone, so he could hardly blame the man. Traveling with a girl as fetching as Holo often earned him the envy of others. If the envy became too much of a problem, though, Lawrence would not be able to make his way as a merchant, so it would not do to appear self-satisfied—especially not when dealing with a nasty fellow like this, who would obviously take special pleasure in watching Lawrence squirm.
Faced with the prideful Holo, arms folded and back to him, looking for all the world like some spoiled noble lady, Lawrence had no choice but to set aside the matter of the fuel.
"My apologies. I'll come again."
"Come anytime," replied the shopkeeper in a flat tone. Only the words themselves were polite. It reminded him of Holo.
Holo, meanwhile, seemed to recover her good cheer as soon as they left the shop. "Food next, aye? Hurry, let us go!" she said, taking Lawrence's hand and tugging on it as she strode ahead.
From the outside, it would have looked like a traveling merchant had lucked into the attentions of a town lass, but Lawrence only sighed his usual sigh.
When it came to food, convincing Holo of anything was no simple matter—nothing so easy as the argument about fuel.
"'Tis written all over your face, you know," Holo said with a sly grin, and at the sight of the amber eyes that flashed at him from her upturned gaze, he could not help but stop in his tracks.
This wolf saw through everything.
"The next town will be bigger, I hear. I've no intention of insisting on luxury here."
"Which means you'll be insisting on luxury in the next town."
Holo grinned, flashing her teeth, to which Lawrence had no reply.
Either way it would be a battle, so he decided to simply follow Holo's lead this time. "Well, then, I'll gladly accept your thrift."
"Mm."
For bread, they bought rye instead of wheat, and cheap rye at that, bread that had been bulked up with legumes and chestnut flour. For vegetables, it was turnips and carrots, along with roasted beans. They had their wineskin filled with wine that was not very good, but at least had a good deal of clarity.
It was more reserved than their usual fare, but still cost more than the rock-hard oat bread and sour, pulpy wine Lawrence had eaten in the past.


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

Input:
She was Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu.
Holo thrust out her chest and proclaimed both those names at every opportunity, which only made Lawrence sigh. Calling her a wisewolf always made him feel rather small inside.
"It's not such a great distance to the next town, and it shouldn't be too cold. You can manage a couple of days of cold food, can't you?"
"I told you, spend it as you will."
***
Lawrence and Holo were standing in a shop that sold the fuel travelers needed to provide light and warmth. It was not only travelers, either—all sorts bought the firewood stacked high in front of the shop, as well as the product next to it, which sold as though it would not be outdone.
It was true, though, that compared with firewood it gave a weaker flame, and there was the smell to consider. Given how much more sensitive Holo's nose was than a human's, it was no small burden for her to bear.
But—it was so cheap.
Merchants would blind themselves to almost anything if it was cheap enough—yes, and plug their noses, too.
What was it that Holo found distasteful? And what was so much cheaper than firewood? Peat.
"So, what'll it be, sir? I can't have you loitering around my shop all day." The shopkeeper laid a hand on his woodpile beneath the eaves and smiled a rueful smile.
He seemed half-sympathetic to Lawrence's problem with this finicky traveling companion and half-amused at Lawrence getting what he deserved.
Lawrence himself had felt that way at various points during his travels alone, so he could hardly blame the man. Traveling with a girl as fetching as Holo often earned him the envy of others. If the envy became too much of a problem, though, Lawrence would not be able to make his way as a merchant, so it would not do to appear self-satisfied—especially not when dealing with a nasty fellow like this, who would obviously take special pleasure in watching Lawrence squirm.
Faced with the prideful Holo, arms folded and back to him, looking for all the world like some spoiled noble lady, Lawrence had no choice but to set aside the matter of the fuel.
"My apologies. I'll come again."
"Come anytime," replied the shopkeeper in a flat tone. Only the words themselves were polite. It reminded him of Holo.
Holo, meanwhile, seemed to recover her good cheer as soon as they left the shop. "Food next, aye? Hurry, let us go!" she said, taking Lawrence's hand and tugging on it as she strode ahead.
From the outside, it would have looked like a traveling merchant had lucked into the attentions of a town lass, but Lawrence only sighed his usual sigh.
When it came to food, convincing Holo of anything was no simple matter—nothing so easy as the argument about fuel.
"'Tis written all over your face, you know," Holo said with a sly grin, and at the sight of the amber eyes that flashed at him from her upturned gaze, he could not help but stop in his tracks.
This wolf saw through everything.
"The next town will be bigger, I hear. I've no intention of insisting on luxury here."
"Which means you'll be insisting on luxury in the next town."
Holo grinned, flashing her teeth, to which Lawrence had no reply.
Either way it would be a battle, so he decided to simply follow Holo's lead this time. "Well, then, I'll gladly accept your thrift."
"Mm."
For bread, they bought rye instead of wheat, and cheap rye at that, bread that had been bulked up with legumes and chestnut flour. For vegetables, it was turnips and carrots, along with roasted beans. They had their wineskin filled with wine that was not very good, but at least had a good deal of clarity.
It was more reserved than their usual fare, but still cost more than the rock-hard oat bread and sour, pulpy wine Lawrence had eaten in the past.

Output:
"Ah, pardon me—might I have the change in those coppers there instead?"
"Those? Oh, the schmie coppers? Passing through the northern forest, are you?"
"Yes. There's a logging village on the way, if I remember right."
There were many varieties of the copper coins necessary to buy supplies on the road. As to why that mattered—well, one had only to imagine trying to use one town's coin in a rival town during a feud.
"It's probably too small to even be called a village, but this time of year there'll be more people there, just trying to finish their work before the snows come. Anyhow, this is the exchange rate."
Anyone making their living by trade needed to have a grasp of the many—even dozens—of coins that circulated through the money changers.
This particular exchange rate was slightly unfavorable, but Lawrence still would not be taking a loss.
He agreed to the exchange and accepted the schmie coppers, which were smaller but thicker, before putting the shop behind him.
"You merchants are a troublesome lot," said Holo once they'd left.
Lawrence put his hand on Holo's head. "Not so troublesome as you. Now then, we'll see to repairing the wagon and gathering some talk about the road ahead..." He ticked off the tasks on his fingers.
Holo looked up at him, childlike. If he ignored her, she would be angry.
Lawrence slumped and gave in. "Yes, and dinner, too."
"Mm. Nothing like a tavern for hearing about travel conditions. 'Tis a necessary thing."
It was hard to argue with a wisewolf.
Lawrence ascended the inn's stairs just as some other travelers were coming down. A man tipped his hat in greeting and gave Lawrence a smile of pained sympathy.
The reason for that smile was quite obvious.
The sun had not even set yet, but Holo's face was quite red as Lawrence carried her.
"How many times do you suppose I've carried a certain wisewolf away after she's eaten and drunk too much, hmm?"
"Ungh..."
"You're lucky I don't make a hobby of usury, else you wouldn't even have the clothes on your back."
With effort, he managed to drag Holo back to the room. He laid her on the bed and removed her kerchief and cloak, as had become the usual routine. He was so efficient at it, who would blame him for stripping her naked? Though the thought had occurred to Lawrence several times, he had never once done it.
After all, as she groaned and lay back, Holo's face was the very image of satiety.
"Honestly," Lawrence murmured with a smile. A caress of her cheek with his finger was all the satisfaction he needed.
"Now then." They'd arrived early in the town, and as a result, Holo was passed out from drunkenness earlier than usual. It was still light outside, and with the wooden windows left open, there was light enough to work without candles.
Lawrence set his knife, coin purse, and map on the desk and lazily went about his work.
First came an inspection of his knife, making sure the blade was still keen and the hilt tight. It was mostly used for eating, but during a journey it might well need to cut a man's skin or kill an animal.
When it came to things that might save his life, it was not an exaggeration to rank the knife above any prayer to God.
As for whether his map was useful or not, it was only marginally better than wearing blinders, but there was nothing to be lost in having even a vague sense of one's physical surroundings. Especially given that tomorrow they would be passing through a forest that would obscure their view of the horizon.
Lawrence knew from past experience that just having Holo the Wisewolf with him was not a guarantee of easy travel, but at least they would not have to worry about being attacked by wolves. Given that Holo's true wolf form could easily swallow him in a single gulp, with her at his side, there was no need to fear mere forest wolves.
That point did make him feel a bit better.