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

Input:
She had been quiet ever since Laud came by, but she looked pale as well. Though her cheeks were reddened, she seemed abnormally pallid besides that. She'd only had two or three mugs of ale, this was right after a hangover, so perhaps it was having an adverse effect on her.
There was still a bit of mutton left, too—a sure sign that she was not well. It seemed as though their best option was to wrap the food up and take it back to the inn.
"Let's go back, Holo."
He plucked the mug of ale from her hand as she drowsily nodded off, paid the bill to the redheaded tavern girl, hoisted Holo onto his back, and took the pack of mutton.
Exasperated, he wondered how many times he had carried her back to their inn so far, but she likely had her guard down because she knew he would do this for her.
He did sometimes wonder if it was an act, but he, of course, always pretended not to notice.
It was a merchant's pleasure to meet the demands of the customer.
If his princess was going to beg for attention, then he was going to spoil her rotten.
"Sure is chilly."
When they left the tavern, the air was heavy with signs of autumn. He wondered if he should have placed a blanket over Holo, but he grimaced at the thought—that would be a bit too much.
He readjusted her on his back as she seemed about to slip off, and slowly headed back toward their inn.
"I feel like she's getting heavier every year..."
He thought it strange, considering how her appearance never changed, but then it dawned on him that she was not the one changing. Holo was not getting heavier; Lawrence was the one withering away.
One day, him carrying Holo on his back to bed would become a distant memory of the past.
He wondered if the reason why he was so quick to answer her demands was because he would always imagine things from her perspective.
Only Holo would stay young forever; only Lawrence would grow old with age. Whenever he pictured the day he would leave Holo behind in this world, he found himself desperate to indulge her. Sometimes, he felt like it would never be enough.
He could not protect her forever. They had vowed in their marriage to stay together "till death do us part," and they had always known that Lawrence would be the first to go.
Lawrence forced a smile as the customers gathered around the bar outside the inn hooted at them. The innkeeper silently stepped ahead of him to open the door for him and prepared a small bucket for them just in case.
As Lawrence, tired, was about to place Holo on the bed, she stirred awake.
She stretched out her legs to get down and sat on the bed with a forceful thud.
"This is starting to feel familiar." Lawrence smiled.
Holo curled up and groaned.
"You feeling okay?"
There was more color in her face now, but when he asked her, just in case, she nodded. Of course, he did not trust her, since she did not loudly claim she was handling it fine, but she did more than just nod.
She reached out to grab his sleeve in a gesture for him to sit beside her.
"I'm coming, I'm coming."
Holo looked much younger when she was weak. They often said that a person became more childish the older they became. He sat on her right side, and she placed her forehead on his shoulder.
"I apologize, I cannot hold my liquor..."
She was telling him what was wrong, which meant she was feeling much better.
Lawrence wrapped his arm around Holo and grasped her hand with his own free one.
"Laud did drop by in the middle of our conversation. Bet you felt lonely, huh?" he teased her, and she gripped his hand even tighter. "I'm sorry," he said, and kissed the base of her ear.
She cared for her tail using expensive oils, which gave it a sweet floral scent. But there was a different sweetness to her ears—they smelled like her.
He restrained himself, though, because he knew she did not like it when he sniffed her too much, when she suddenly spoke up.
"Lonely is likely an apt descriptor."
***
In his shock, a pacifying smile reflexively crossed his face.

Output:
She rubbed the base of her ears against his cheek.
Up until that point, Lawrence had nothing to say in return to her shyness, but his thoughts finally caught up.
"...Oh, right. You were going to say something right as Laud came to us, weren't you?"
Had she realized something about Rahden? Now that he thought about it, she had been looking glum ever since then. He gently shook her hand, waiting for an answer, and her small hands shook back.
"All you do is think and think...and I realized that you are a fool."
"Hmm?"
He only hummed in response, and she dug her nails into his hand.
"You are a fool, despite how intelligent you are. Intelligent enough to surprise me. The answer has been right in front of you this whole time." It sounded as though she was speaking in riddles. "Or perhaps I am the fool," she continued. "After all, with my nose and ears being so sharp, I never realized my weakness was in my eyes."
The topic had come up in Nyohhira. The reason Holo had always been so bad with reading and writing was because her eyesight was poorer than she realized. When she took her first look through reading spectacles—polished glass that could magnify writing—she had been shocked.
What did that mean, then, on a larger scale?
Thoughts slowly churned through Lawrence's head, and he finally replied, "...I'm looking at it with too many preconceptions?"
Thinking logically, Rahden's actions did not make much sense. Being selected to be bishop was a miracle on the level of a prince falling in love with a peasant girl, yet he was keen to turn down the offer. And no matter how he looked at it, that would guarantee a stable foundation for the village for future generations.
If he valued the village above all else, then Lawrence felt that he should simply become a bishop for the greater good, even if it inconvenienced him in a way.
That meant what was keeping Rahden from doing so was not grounded in logic.
When it came to matters of logic, of trade, then Lawrence had plenty of opinions.
But he was no match for Holo when it came to sentimental matters, ones that dealt with human subtlety.
"I was thinking about that great tree of a man for the entire time."
Rahden was not a bear, not a stone, but a tree.
He was, indeed, a lot like a tree.
"Why does such a stubborn tree like him not acknowledge the concerns of those around him?"
That was where Holo's thoughts began. And that meant, at the very least, that Sulto's concern for Rahden was genuine.
And though they had approached the matter from the very same starting point, Holo had looked at it from an entirely different angle.
"I...was honestly irritated by this. He does not know how lucky he is."
Lawrence gasped in realization not because he did not know how Holo felt...
...but because he felt similarly to when he crossed a line he shouldn't have.
"Do you mean...?"
He trailed off, not finishing his sentence, and Holo smiled as she closed her eyes.
"Yes. Pasloe. I lived there for such a long time, no?" Her tone was sleepy, as though she was recounting an old tale. "Until I was chased away, that is."
Lawrence inhaled deeply and held his breath.
Though to him, Pasloe was where he and Holo met, to Holo, it was a village where she had lost something dear to her.
"I cared deeply for those people, and yet they were the ones who chased me away. To me, I find it absurd that this big tree was moaning and groaning over all the love and luck he has."
Though there was jest in her tone, he knew she was partially serious.
Her tail, laid out behind him, bristled.
"But his pain is real. He is hesitant, and it hurts him. He has put his life on the line to protect his people, and they in turn worry about him from the bottom of their hearts—so why? I wondered. It does not make sense. And that is why..." She sat up, lifting herself from Lawrence. "...I pictured myself in his stead. I pictured how the tree might feel."
"Rahden?"


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

Input:
She rubbed the base of her ears against his cheek.
Up until that point, Lawrence had nothing to say in return to her shyness, but his thoughts finally caught up.
"...Oh, right. You were going to say something right as Laud came to us, weren't you?"
Had she realized something about Rahden? Now that he thought about it, she had been looking glum ever since then. He gently shook her hand, waiting for an answer, and her small hands shook back.
"All you do is think and think...and I realized that you are a fool."
"Hmm?"
He only hummed in response, and she dug her nails into his hand.
"You are a fool, despite how intelligent you are. Intelligent enough to surprise me. The answer has been right in front of you this whole time." It sounded as though she was speaking in riddles. "Or perhaps I am the fool," she continued. "After all, with my nose and ears being so sharp, I never realized my weakness was in my eyes."
The topic had come up in Nyohhira. The reason Holo had always been so bad with reading and writing was because her eyesight was poorer than she realized. When she took her first look through reading spectacles—polished glass that could magnify writing—she had been shocked.
What did that mean, then, on a larger scale?
Thoughts slowly churned through Lawrence's head, and he finally replied, "...I'm looking at it with too many preconceptions?"
Thinking logically, Rahden's actions did not make much sense. Being selected to be bishop was a miracle on the level of a prince falling in love with a peasant girl, yet he was keen to turn down the offer. And no matter how he looked at it, that would guarantee a stable foundation for the village for future generations.
If he valued the village above all else, then Lawrence felt that he should simply become a bishop for the greater good, even if it inconvenienced him in a way.
That meant what was keeping Rahden from doing so was not grounded in logic.
When it came to matters of logic, of trade, then Lawrence had plenty of opinions.
But he was no match for Holo when it came to sentimental matters, ones that dealt with human subtlety.
"I was thinking about that great tree of a man for the entire time."
Rahden was not a bear, not a stone, but a tree.
He was, indeed, a lot like a tree.
"Why does such a stubborn tree like him not acknowledge the concerns of those around him?"
That was where Holo's thoughts began. And that meant, at the very least, that Sulto's concern for Rahden was genuine.
And though they had approached the matter from the very same starting point, Holo had looked at it from an entirely different angle.
"I...was honestly irritated by this. He does not know how lucky he is."
Lawrence gasped in realization not because he did not know how Holo felt...
...but because he felt similarly to when he crossed a line he shouldn't have.
"Do you mean...?"
He trailed off, not finishing his sentence, and Holo smiled as she closed her eyes.
"Yes. Pasloe. I lived there for such a long time, no?" Her tone was sleepy, as though she was recounting an old tale. "Until I was chased away, that is."
Lawrence inhaled deeply and held his breath.
Though to him, Pasloe was where he and Holo met, to Holo, it was a village where she had lost something dear to her.
"I cared deeply for those people, and yet they were the ones who chased me away. To me, I find it absurd that this big tree was moaning and groaning over all the love and luck he has."
Though there was jest in her tone, he knew she was partially serious.
Her tail, laid out behind him, bristled.
"But his pain is real. He is hesitant, and it hurts him. He has put his life on the line to protect his people, and they in turn worry about him from the bottom of their hearts—so why? I wondered. It does not make sense. And that is why..." She sat up, lifting herself from Lawrence. "...I pictured myself in his stead. I pictured how the tree might feel."
"Rahden?"

Output:
"This Rahden must think he is being chased out of his village, no?"
"Hmm? ...What? Chased out?" Lawrence asked in turn, not quite understanding what she meant.
"Perhaps...'chased out' is not the correct wording. But it is similar."
The concern of Sulto and the others was genuine, and Holo's sharp ears would have been able to discern whether or not they were secretly planning on ousting Rahden.
Lawrence looked at her quizzically, and she gave a tired smile.
"Think about it. Remember the hatchery pond? The thing he gave his all to build? All of those fish died."
"But...I'm pretty sure the villagers are genuinely thankful for everything he's done for them. They even found a living off the deer because they didn't want to burden him anymore, right?"
"Aye. Precisely. And if I were in his shoes..." Holo directed her gaze out the window to the night sky, then looked back at Lawrence, forcefully planting her face on his chest in a headbutt. "...I would be lonely."
"You...would?"
Holo nodded, not bothering to show him her face.
"Those in Pasloe, too, used human knowledge and power to devise ways to cultivate their wheat. Their wheat was bountiful without my help. I should not have minded if someone were to come up with a way to get bountiful harvests; they used to ask me to do that for them, after all. I should have been happy for them and their harvests."
***
Lawrence could tell from her voice that she was on the verge of tears, and that, in turn, pained him.
But he wanted to cry for a different reason.
That was because once he saw what she wanted to say, he felt a clear frustration with his own carelessness.
"'Tis the same with his pond. 'Twould not be surprising that one of his reasons lay in the dream of re-creating his home. But I believe his biggest reason for doing so was to fill the stomachs of the hungry." She sniffed and continued, her tone as though she were thinking back on a time when she served Pasloe as its protector as Holo the Wisewolf. "To bring smiles to his people. To give a new home to his new family. What he did to accomplish that should not have mattered. Logically, at least."
Though her head was still bowed, Lawrence could tell that she was clearly smiling when she said logically.
It was as though she was laughing at herself for being a fool for feeling hurt over what happened in Pasloe.
She had been lost to the sands of time in her life in Pasloe; on top of that, she had been deemed a symbol of a bad custom leftover from days gone by, and that had hurt her so much that her massive wolf form almost vanished completely.
She wanted to find her way home anyway, so she could have easily caused the village more trouble on her way out, but she had not been able to bring herself to do so.
Because it was not logical.
The bonds of obligation and duty were not so easily shed.
"It felt as though someone else existed inside me. That tree must feel the same way. He is a large man, and he seems smart. He must surely understand what that white-haired mayor says and feels. Yet he does not listen to his heart... That must be it."
It was not just Sulto, Baum, and the other villagers who both praised and worried about Rahden, but the bishop of Salonia and Elsa were much the same. The deer business began because the villagers had been worried that Rahden was working too much. Everyone was thinking of him.
But what was it like from his perspective?
You built a hatchery pond for the people of your village, but the fish died out, and now the villagers have found jobs they can accomplish on their own. You were the only one making any effort to revitalize the hatchery, and yet the villagers insist you spend a year far away from the village to become a bishop and not worry about them.
And so it would not be strange at all if this is how it sounded to Rahden:
Become a bishop. That is the only purpose you serve now.
That idea must have come to hang heavy over him, much in the way how inescapable the curtain of night always was.


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

Input:
"This Rahden must think he is being chased out of his village, no?"
"Hmm? ...What? Chased out?" Lawrence asked in turn, not quite understanding what she meant.
"Perhaps...'chased out' is not the correct wording. But it is similar."
The concern of Sulto and the others was genuine, and Holo's sharp ears would have been able to discern whether or not they were secretly planning on ousting Rahden.
Lawrence looked at her quizzically, and she gave a tired smile.
"Think about it. Remember the hatchery pond? The thing he gave his all to build? All of those fish died."
"But...I'm pretty sure the villagers are genuinely thankful for everything he's done for them. They even found a living off the deer because they didn't want to burden him anymore, right?"
"Aye. Precisely. And if I were in his shoes..." Holo directed her gaze out the window to the night sky, then looked back at Lawrence, forcefully planting her face on his chest in a headbutt. "...I would be lonely."
"You...would?"
Holo nodded, not bothering to show him her face.
"Those in Pasloe, too, used human knowledge and power to devise ways to cultivate their wheat. Their wheat was bountiful without my help. I should not have minded if someone were to come up with a way to get bountiful harvests; they used to ask me to do that for them, after all. I should have been happy for them and their harvests."
***
Lawrence could tell from her voice that she was on the verge of tears, and that, in turn, pained him.
But he wanted to cry for a different reason.
That was because once he saw what she wanted to say, he felt a clear frustration with his own carelessness.
"'Tis the same with his pond. 'Twould not be surprising that one of his reasons lay in the dream of re-creating his home. But I believe his biggest reason for doing so was to fill the stomachs of the hungry." She sniffed and continued, her tone as though she were thinking back on a time when she served Pasloe as its protector as Holo the Wisewolf. "To bring smiles to his people. To give a new home to his new family. What he did to accomplish that should not have mattered. Logically, at least."
Though her head was still bowed, Lawrence could tell that she was clearly smiling when she said logically.
It was as though she was laughing at herself for being a fool for feeling hurt over what happened in Pasloe.
She had been lost to the sands of time in her life in Pasloe; on top of that, she had been deemed a symbol of a bad custom leftover from days gone by, and that had hurt her so much that her massive wolf form almost vanished completely.
She wanted to find her way home anyway, so she could have easily caused the village more trouble on her way out, but she had not been able to bring herself to do so.
Because it was not logical.
The bonds of obligation and duty were not so easily shed.
"It felt as though someone else existed inside me. That tree must feel the same way. He is a large man, and he seems smart. He must surely understand what that white-haired mayor says and feels. Yet he does not listen to his heart... That must be it."
It was not just Sulto, Baum, and the other villagers who both praised and worried about Rahden, but the bishop of Salonia and Elsa were much the same. The deer business began because the villagers had been worried that Rahden was working too much. Everyone was thinking of him.
But what was it like from his perspective?
You built a hatchery pond for the people of your village, but the fish died out, and now the villagers have found jobs they can accomplish on their own. You were the only one making any effort to revitalize the hatchery, and yet the villagers insist you spend a year far away from the village to become a bishop and not worry about them.
And so it would not be strange at all if this is how it sounded to Rahden:
Become a bishop. That is the only purpose you serve now.
That idea must have come to hang heavy over him, much in the way how inescapable the curtain of night always was.

Output:
"What?"
Lawrence was genuinely surprised to hear that.
"What, had you not noticed?" Holo asked, lifting her head as she sniffed again. He shook his head, laying bare his foolery.
"But didn't he break free when the other villagers tried to pin him down?"
"He rooted himself with his left leg only. Perhaps that is why he cannot ride a horse well; it is much too dangerous for him to mount and dismount."
She wiped at the corners of her eyes with her hands.
Lawrence pictured Rahden as he watched Holo, not entirely intending to look at her so intently. Even now, Rahden was large and powerful; he could easily imagine how overflowing with strength he had been in his youth.
Even Lawrence had felt such exhaustion carrying a drunk Holo on his back, which made him feel sad, and realize just how much he'd aged.
And so, for one who had cultivated such hardiness in one's body throughout their entire lives, it must have been an even greater shock.
As hurt knees kept him from working, he could do nothing but watch the fish in the hatchery die. Either it was his knees, or the restoration was not going as planned. Watching the villagers easily carry out hunting that he could not participate in would only make his state of mind much, much worse.
Now that Lawrence thought about it, Rahden seemed so miserable when asked to sit in his chair.
The reason he was so attached to the hatchery was not because of the sea from his hometown.
That was because he was desperately trying to keep all the water he had cupped in his hands from spilling.
He was trying to maintain his memory of a time when he served as the heart of the village, when he was the great tree that held up the sky above them.
Yet now his knees, which had previously held up his convictions, were giving out on him.
His body would only decline further. His purpose in the village would dwindle.
Rahden was being swallowed by the rapids of time and was drowning.
"'Tis frightening to lose one's place in the world."
Holo knew the dread of being left alone in this wide, wide world. She knew how harsh it was not to be needed anymore.
Lawrence looked at her—really looked at her.
He thought she had been crying, but she was smiling.
"I know I called you a fool for how much you go 'round and 'round with your logic." Holo sniffed again, a smile still on her face. "But I should have noticed right away back in the church, but I had been unable to. That is because..." She paused, a bashful tone overtaking her smile before continuing, "...you gave me a home. Your care and your love made me forget all the sad things the world had to offer. Because our place is overflowing with warm springs, and it is a comfortable place."
Her carefree smile only caused Lawrence's heart to ache even more.
He truly felt as though he had been doing so much for Holo.
But all the good deeds in the world could not assuage her loneliness forever.
He pulled her small frame into a tight embrace, the physical manifestation of a wish that time would stop in place for them.
And what came out of his mouth next...were spiteful remarks.
"And I feed you and give you alcohol, so you really don't have much to complain about."
"You fool! I have been so honest w—"
"And that's why..."
Lawrence somehow managed to subdue the unease in his chest, Holo still in his arms as she began to yell at him.
He slowly let her go and pinched her nose, an earnest, teasing smile on his face.
"That's why if I accept all of your feelings as they are, I'm going to want to give you literally everything, every last coin I have. Then you won't have any money left to drink by the next year, right?"
Holo's feelings were like a big barrel of wine. They needed small portions at a time; otherwise they would overindulge, get very drunk, and fall headfirst into the barrel.
"Miss Elsa just taught you the importance of family finance, didn't she?"
When he brought up her name, it was almost funny how deeply Holo's face twisted into a frown.


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

Input:
"What?"
Lawrence was genuinely surprised to hear that.
"What, had you not noticed?" Holo asked, lifting her head as she sniffed again. He shook his head, laying bare his foolery.
"But didn't he break free when the other villagers tried to pin him down?"
"He rooted himself with his left leg only. Perhaps that is why he cannot ride a horse well; it is much too dangerous for him to mount and dismount."
She wiped at the corners of her eyes with her hands.
Lawrence pictured Rahden as he watched Holo, not entirely intending to look at her so intently. Even now, Rahden was large and powerful; he could easily imagine how overflowing with strength he had been in his youth.
Even Lawrence had felt such exhaustion carrying a drunk Holo on his back, which made him feel sad, and realize just how much he'd aged.
And so, for one who had cultivated such hardiness in one's body throughout their entire lives, it must have been an even greater shock.
As hurt knees kept him from working, he could do nothing but watch the fish in the hatchery die. Either it was his knees, or the restoration was not going as planned. Watching the villagers easily carry out hunting that he could not participate in would only make his state of mind much, much worse.
Now that Lawrence thought about it, Rahden seemed so miserable when asked to sit in his chair.
The reason he was so attached to the hatchery was not because of the sea from his hometown.
That was because he was desperately trying to keep all the water he had cupped in his hands from spilling.
He was trying to maintain his memory of a time when he served as the heart of the village, when he was the great tree that held up the sky above them.
Yet now his knees, which had previously held up his convictions, were giving out on him.
His body would only decline further. His purpose in the village would dwindle.
Rahden was being swallowed by the rapids of time and was drowning.
"'Tis frightening to lose one's place in the world."
Holo knew the dread of being left alone in this wide, wide world. She knew how harsh it was not to be needed anymore.
Lawrence looked at her—really looked at her.
He thought she had been crying, but she was smiling.
"I know I called you a fool for how much you go 'round and 'round with your logic." Holo sniffed again, a smile still on her face. "But I should have noticed right away back in the church, but I had been unable to. That is because..." She paused, a bashful tone overtaking her smile before continuing, "...you gave me a home. Your care and your love made me forget all the sad things the world had to offer. Because our place is overflowing with warm springs, and it is a comfortable place."
Her carefree smile only caused Lawrence's heart to ache even more.
He truly felt as though he had been doing so much for Holo.
But all the good deeds in the world could not assuage her loneliness forever.
He pulled her small frame into a tight embrace, the physical manifestation of a wish that time would stop in place for them.
And what came out of his mouth next...were spiteful remarks.
"And I feed you and give you alcohol, so you really don't have much to complain about."
"You fool! I have been so honest w—"
"And that's why..."
Lawrence somehow managed to subdue the unease in his chest, Holo still in his arms as she began to yell at him.
He slowly let her go and pinched her nose, an earnest, teasing smile on his face.
"That's why if I accept all of your feelings as they are, I'm going to want to give you literally everything, every last coin I have. Then you won't have any money left to drink by the next year, right?"
Holo's feelings were like a big barrel of wine. They needed small portions at a time; otherwise they would overindulge, get very drunk, and fall headfirst into the barrel.
"Miss Elsa just taught you the importance of family finance, didn't she?"
When he brought up her name, it was almost funny how deeply Holo's face twisted into a frown.

Output:
Holo finally pouted.
"I have not spent a single coin."
She was right—since they were the ones to have solved the town's financial problem, no matter what tavern they went to, they would be treated to some drink or another. That said, she was apparently aware that she had been drinking too much; she lifted her feet onto the bed, hugged her knees, and looked away in a huff.
Lawrence smiled with a sigh and said, "And I'm lonely when you're out drunk."
Holo's mouth fell open slightly in astonishment as she stared at Lawrence.
Then, as her stiff expression loosened, the corner of her mouth turned upward, as though she was trying desperately to keep her delight to herself.
"...You are a fool."
"And?"
"Look at you, this is why you—"
"—will always be a cute boy?"
He knew she was going to call him a fool, so he decided to finish her sentence for her.
She was vexed, having been beaten to the punch, yet she still smiled in delight.
"It isn't about logic," Lawrence said.
He was speaking about himself, but also about Rahden.
Sulto was the logical one here.
But Rahden was the one whose emotions could not be dealt with purely through logic alone.
"Aye. The problem lies in his anxieties. The tree is not a true tree."
It was the same as Holo—though her true form was a massive wolf, one big enough to swallow a man whole, that did not mean her heart was as steely and animalistic.
Leaving the two parties on separate pages would be like leaving Holo by herself in Pasloe.
"Then what should we do?" Lawrence asked, almost to himself, and Holo reached up to gingerly brush his cheek.
"You have seen what we should do at our bathhouse in Nyohhira."
"We have? Ah, you mean...when titles change hands between nobles."
She was talking about when two generations of nobles came to their bathhouse. He had always thought that those who clung to their power and refused to let go were always a handful.
But understanding better now that they were simply afraid of losing their place in the world, he felt like he could treat them with plenty of kindness.
"You typically start off by praising all their accomplishments in life, right? When it comes to the ritual in passing down headship."
"Give your thanks, but be careful not to give too much. It makes sense."
Though late into his career it was, he was learning something new. He had not thought too deeply about it when they were in Nyohhira.
"Then what has Rahden accomplished?"
It went without saying that he had built a pond in an empty mountainside, raised countless fish, and fed the hungry.
But if they were to express their true thanks, then they would have to bring up how he brought the entire village together and did all he could to reestablish the hatchery. It would have been nice if there were infinite resources and labor, but Sulto and the other villagers had finally found stability from work in the deer industry.
To abandon all that and return to the unstable hatchery business was too risky.
They needed to express their thanks with something else.
Something that could shine a light on all the time, money, and energy he had spent on them so far.
"That tree would scavenge for gems in the sea from his hometown, no? Myuri likes those bards' tales that end in a similar fashion?"
"Do you mean the ones that go like, And the true gem to the villagers was the fish, and they all lived happily ever after? Those ones?"
"...Hmm, it sounds rather cheap when you put it that way."
Lawrence hummed, then suddenly remembered that selected passages of the translated scripture were sitting on their desk.
"Oh, right, didn't Rahden say he memorized a passage from the scripture and dug out a pond in the mountains because of it?"


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

Input:
Holo finally pouted.
"I have not spent a single coin."
She was right—since they were the ones to have solved the town's financial problem, no matter what tavern they went to, they would be treated to some drink or another. That said, she was apparently aware that she had been drinking too much; she lifted her feet onto the bed, hugged her knees, and looked away in a huff.
Lawrence smiled with a sigh and said, "And I'm lonely when you're out drunk."
Holo's mouth fell open slightly in astonishment as she stared at Lawrence.
Then, as her stiff expression loosened, the corner of her mouth turned upward, as though she was trying desperately to keep her delight to herself.
"...You are a fool."
"And?"
"Look at you, this is why you—"
"—will always be a cute boy?"
He knew she was going to call him a fool, so he decided to finish her sentence for her.
She was vexed, having been beaten to the punch, yet she still smiled in delight.
"It isn't about logic," Lawrence said.
He was speaking about himself, but also about Rahden.
Sulto was the logical one here.
But Rahden was the one whose emotions could not be dealt with purely through logic alone.
"Aye. The problem lies in his anxieties. The tree is not a true tree."
It was the same as Holo—though her true form was a massive wolf, one big enough to swallow a man whole, that did not mean her heart was as steely and animalistic.
Leaving the two parties on separate pages would be like leaving Holo by herself in Pasloe.
"Then what should we do?" Lawrence asked, almost to himself, and Holo reached up to gingerly brush his cheek.
"You have seen what we should do at our bathhouse in Nyohhira."
"We have? Ah, you mean...when titles change hands between nobles."
She was talking about when two generations of nobles came to their bathhouse. He had always thought that those who clung to their power and refused to let go were always a handful.
But understanding better now that they were simply afraid of losing their place in the world, he felt like he could treat them with plenty of kindness.
"You typically start off by praising all their accomplishments in life, right? When it comes to the ritual in passing down headship."
"Give your thanks, but be careful not to give too much. It makes sense."
Though late into his career it was, he was learning something new. He had not thought too deeply about it when they were in Nyohhira.
"Then what has Rahden accomplished?"
It went without saying that he had built a pond in an empty mountainside, raised countless fish, and fed the hungry.
But if they were to express their true thanks, then they would have to bring up how he brought the entire village together and did all he could to reestablish the hatchery. It would have been nice if there were infinite resources and labor, but Sulto and the other villagers had finally found stability from work in the deer industry.
To abandon all that and return to the unstable hatchery business was too risky.
They needed to express their thanks with something else.
Something that could shine a light on all the time, money, and energy he had spent on them so far.
"That tree would scavenge for gems in the sea from his hometown, no? Myuri likes those bards' tales that end in a similar fashion?"
"Do you mean the ones that go like, And the true gem to the villagers was the fish, and they all lived happily ever after? Those ones?"
"...Hmm, it sounds rather cheap when you put it that way."
Lawrence hummed, then suddenly remembered that selected passages of the translated scripture were sitting on their desk.
"Oh, right, didn't Rahden say he memorized a passage from the scripture and dug out a pond in the mountains because of it?"

Output:
As he flipped through it, Lawrence found plenty of fables he knew, and the story about the fish was included, too. Similarly, he found other passages about food; they must be popular.
With the passages written in the vernacular, Lawrence was surprised at how easy they were to understand. He almost felt a fool for trying so hard to learn how to read the church's script.
As page after page went by, his heart was captured by a particular sentence that leaped out at him.
"Ah, yes, this gem of the sea is—Mm? What is the matter?"
Holo peered curiously at him.
With Lawrence's gaze at the booklet in his hands, Holo squinted at the writing on the page, and her tail puffed up not long after.
"Oh ho! I see!"
"What do you think?" Lawrence asked her, and Holo was shockingly happy about it.
"I was just thinking the same thing. 'Twas almost as though I had been waiting for you to find that sentence."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
There must have been a tacit understanding between them.
Holo pursed her lips in an arrogant manner, then broke out into a grin, one of her fangs poking out from her lips as she said, "Coral. The tree of the sea, no?"
"Yeah. What about it?"
"And what is it that the villagers hunt now?"
"That would be... Oh!"
Deer.
They were inhabitants of the forest, branch-like antlers growing from their heads.
"And what you said when you sold that rancid powder."
The sulfur powder they got from Nyohhira was something one could dissolve in hot water and experience a hot spring.
That was what Lawrence told the villagers when he sold the powder to the townsfolk as they were elated by the upcoming festival.
They could dig a hole in the ground and make their own hot spring.
"The villagers have only survived thus far because of the tree. It matters not whose insight dictated they settle on deer hunting, because it was none other than the tree who filled their stomachs before."
"Which means we could plant some of the deer antlers in the pond, right?"
The pond he had built had, at one point, most certainly been filled with gems. With things that could actually be touched and obtained, unlike the coral, which eventually became unobtainable in the man's hometown.
"And this would be the end, yes?" Holo asked, pointing to the scripture.
Described within was a well-known scene of God bestowing faith into priests of the future.
"There's no point if Rahden doesn't become a bishop. But I think this could work."
Though Rahden and the rest of the villagers were not quite seeing eye to eye at the moment, that was not what either truly wanted. They should be walking shoulder to shoulder together into a brilliant future.
They should be able to spend many joyous days into the future, just as Lawrence and Holo found Nyohhira together.
"The villagers can show their appreciation for everything Rahden's done, and it should get across to him that they hope he takes on a new role."
"And, most importantly," Holo grinned, no trace of tears in her eyes, "it will not be long before we can have delicious trout again."
Lawrence laughed at her appetite. "That's also true," he replied.
Though Lawrence and Holo had come to their own conclusion, it was nothing more than a guess.
If things went forward without them confirming how Rahden actually felt, then things would warp even further.
The first thing the following morning, they went to the church and spoke with Elsa. Since things were getting nowhere in the present situation, Elsa agreed to go along with their plan.
And so, they decided to see how Rahden truly felt, but Holo stopped Lawrence right outside the man's room.
"I believe I should go in alone."
"What?"
"This is a delicate matter for a boy. A sweet lady such as myself will make it much easier for him to open up," she said, almost astonished that she had to explain this to him.
Yet Lawrence remained unconvinced; Elsa reached out from behind him to pat him on the shoulder.
"Leave this to her," she said.
***
If Elsa said so, then he had no choice but to obey.


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

Input:
As he flipped through it, Lawrence found plenty of fables he knew, and the story about the fish was included, too. Similarly, he found other passages about food; they must be popular.
With the passages written in the vernacular, Lawrence was surprised at how easy they were to understand. He almost felt a fool for trying so hard to learn how to read the church's script.
As page after page went by, his heart was captured by a particular sentence that leaped out at him.
"Ah, yes, this gem of the sea is—Mm? What is the matter?"
Holo peered curiously at him.
With Lawrence's gaze at the booklet in his hands, Holo squinted at the writing on the page, and her tail puffed up not long after.
"Oh ho! I see!"
"What do you think?" Lawrence asked her, and Holo was shockingly happy about it.
"I was just thinking the same thing. 'Twas almost as though I had been waiting for you to find that sentence."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
There must have been a tacit understanding between them.
Holo pursed her lips in an arrogant manner, then broke out into a grin, one of her fangs poking out from her lips as she said, "Coral. The tree of the sea, no?"
"Yeah. What about it?"
"And what is it that the villagers hunt now?"
"That would be... Oh!"
Deer.
They were inhabitants of the forest, branch-like antlers growing from their heads.
"And what you said when you sold that rancid powder."
The sulfur powder they got from Nyohhira was something one could dissolve in hot water and experience a hot spring.
That was what Lawrence told the villagers when he sold the powder to the townsfolk as they were elated by the upcoming festival.
They could dig a hole in the ground and make their own hot spring.
"The villagers have only survived thus far because of the tree. It matters not whose insight dictated they settle on deer hunting, because it was none other than the tree who filled their stomachs before."
"Which means we could plant some of the deer antlers in the pond, right?"
The pond he had built had, at one point, most certainly been filled with gems. With things that could actually be touched and obtained, unlike the coral, which eventually became unobtainable in the man's hometown.
"And this would be the end, yes?" Holo asked, pointing to the scripture.
Described within was a well-known scene of God bestowing faith into priests of the future.
"There's no point if Rahden doesn't become a bishop. But I think this could work."
Though Rahden and the rest of the villagers were not quite seeing eye to eye at the moment, that was not what either truly wanted. They should be walking shoulder to shoulder together into a brilliant future.
They should be able to spend many joyous days into the future, just as Lawrence and Holo found Nyohhira together.
"The villagers can show their appreciation for everything Rahden's done, and it should get across to him that they hope he takes on a new role."
"And, most importantly," Holo grinned, no trace of tears in her eyes, "it will not be long before we can have delicious trout again."
Lawrence laughed at her appetite. "That's also true," he replied.
Though Lawrence and Holo had come to their own conclusion, it was nothing more than a guess.
If things went forward without them confirming how Rahden actually felt, then things would warp even further.
The first thing the following morning, they went to the church and spoke with Elsa. Since things were getting nowhere in the present situation, Elsa agreed to go along with their plan.
And so, they decided to see how Rahden truly felt, but Holo stopped Lawrence right outside the man's room.
"I believe I should go in alone."
"What?"
"This is a delicate matter for a boy. A sweet lady such as myself will make it much easier for him to open up," she said, almost astonished that she had to explain this to him.
Yet Lawrence remained unconvinced; Elsa reached out from behind him to pat him on the shoulder.
"Leave this to her," she said.
***
If Elsa said so, then he had no choice but to obey.

Output:
"I hope she'll be okay... I hope she doesn't make him angry," Lawrence expressed his unease, and Elsa drew up her shoulders.
"Miss Holo is quite adept when it comes to matters such as these," she said. "But I don't understand why she acts so debauched all the time."
They did not have to wait very long.
Holo emerged not long after, a smug grin on her face.
"Next, the mayor."
Though it likely went well, Lawrence wondered how Rahden was doing.
He tried to peek inside, but Holo reached up and pinched his cheek.
"Look at how inconsiderate you are."
She was telling him to leave the man be. Lawrence rubbed his cheek as he reminded himself that Holo was, indeed, the wisewolf—her recent degeneracy almost made him forget.
When they proposed their idea to Sulto, Lawrence, Elsa, and the Salonia bishop were present.
When Sulto heard the idea, his eyes widened in surprise, and he forgot to breathe; he almost went completely white.
The first reason being in response to his own ignorance for not realizing that Rahden had been getting weaker.
The second reason being that he had not even considered that his urging Rahden to take a break would be seen as him trying to oust him in the eyes of the other.
It was not because Sulto was particularly dense, but simply because he respected Rahden with his entire body and soul. The other villagers were similar; they were devastated that their feelings of gratitude had been taken the wrong way this entire time.
When Lawrence explained to them what sort of event they could hold to show their gratitude to Rahden, they all looked like desert-dwellers who had seen the rain for the first time in ten years.
Having finally learned how Rahden felt, the matter of becoming a bishop fell by the wayside, and they prioritized showing the man just how grateful they were for him.
The idea of doing this in the village pond came up, but considering how people would come and go from it, they decided putting deer antlers inside it was not very good for the possibility of the hatchery's revival, and Holo insisted that it be done in a livelier, more exciting manner, so they decided to hold it in Salonia.
Just like Laud, there were many in town who remembered the hunger that was kept at bay thanks to Rahden. When Lawrence brought up the idea to Laud, the merchant readily volunteered to find laborers to dig holes.
Lawrence then snuck in his merchant's craftiness and his opinions as a bathhouse owner.
"You want us to make an impromptu pond into a hot spring?"
Laud, of course, immediately recognized that Lawrence was trying to sell them sulfur, and he made sure to convey that in his gaze.
"Rahden's knees are going bad, you see. Why do you think hot-spring cures are so popular with the elderly?"
When Lawrence asked, Laud blinked.
"Because it helps, right? I know the rumors—it's like a panacea."
"In reality, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I do believe you will see solid results."
Merchants were a curious lot. Laud leaned forward, interested.
"A body floats in the water, doesn't it?" Lawrence went on. "In hot springs, you can even move around like you're still young."
Laud nodded, interested.
"And," Lawrence continued, "I do want Lord Rahden to experience this, but—"
Laud cleared his throat. "If we are to dig a hole, make it into a hot spring, and hold this event during the festival, then we'll need to establish groundwork in all relevant fields. Since you recommend I purchase a lot of your sulfur, then how do you feel about this for commission?"
He produced an abacus from his belt and quickly set the beads into a particular place.
With a smile, Lawrence reached over and moved some around.
"Hmm... Very well, then. I suppose I'll order some drinks that will go with our impromptu baths."
Lawrence and Laud shook on it. When Lawrence turned to look at Holo, who had been watching the exchange, she only gave him an exasperated shrug.


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

Input:
"I hope she'll be okay... I hope she doesn't make him angry," Lawrence expressed his unease, and Elsa drew up her shoulders.
"Miss Holo is quite adept when it comes to matters such as these," she said. "But I don't understand why she acts so debauched all the time."
They did not have to wait very long.
Holo emerged not long after, a smug grin on her face.
"Next, the mayor."
Though it likely went well, Lawrence wondered how Rahden was doing.
He tried to peek inside, but Holo reached up and pinched his cheek.
"Look at how inconsiderate you are."
She was telling him to leave the man be. Lawrence rubbed his cheek as he reminded himself that Holo was, indeed, the wisewolf—her recent degeneracy almost made him forget.
When they proposed their idea to Sulto, Lawrence, Elsa, and the Salonia bishop were present.
When Sulto heard the idea, his eyes widened in surprise, and he forgot to breathe; he almost went completely white.
The first reason being in response to his own ignorance for not realizing that Rahden had been getting weaker.
The second reason being that he had not even considered that his urging Rahden to take a break would be seen as him trying to oust him in the eyes of the other.
It was not because Sulto was particularly dense, but simply because he respected Rahden with his entire body and soul. The other villagers were similar; they were devastated that their feelings of gratitude had been taken the wrong way this entire time.
When Lawrence explained to them what sort of event they could hold to show their gratitude to Rahden, they all looked like desert-dwellers who had seen the rain for the first time in ten years.
Having finally learned how Rahden felt, the matter of becoming a bishop fell by the wayside, and they prioritized showing the man just how grateful they were for him.
The idea of doing this in the village pond came up, but considering how people would come and go from it, they decided putting deer antlers inside it was not very good for the possibility of the hatchery's revival, and Holo insisted that it be done in a livelier, more exciting manner, so they decided to hold it in Salonia.
Just like Laud, there were many in town who remembered the hunger that was kept at bay thanks to Rahden. When Lawrence brought up the idea to Laud, the merchant readily volunteered to find laborers to dig holes.
Lawrence then snuck in his merchant's craftiness and his opinions as a bathhouse owner.
"You want us to make an impromptu pond into a hot spring?"
Laud, of course, immediately recognized that Lawrence was trying to sell them sulfur, and he made sure to convey that in his gaze.
"Rahden's knees are going bad, you see. Why do you think hot-spring cures are so popular with the elderly?"
When Lawrence asked, Laud blinked.
"Because it helps, right? I know the rumors—it's like a panacea."
"In reality, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but I do believe you will see solid results."
Merchants were a curious lot. Laud leaned forward, interested.
"A body floats in the water, doesn't it?" Lawrence went on. "In hot springs, you can even move around like you're still young."
Laud nodded, interested.
"And," Lawrence continued, "I do want Lord Rahden to experience this, but—"
Laud cleared his throat. "If we are to dig a hole, make it into a hot spring, and hold this event during the festival, then we'll need to establish groundwork in all relevant fields. Since you recommend I purchase a lot of your sulfur, then how do you feel about this for commission?"
He produced an abacus from his belt and quickly set the beads into a particular place.
With a smile, Lawrence reached over and moved some around.
"Hmm... Very well, then. I suppose I'll order some drinks that will go with our impromptu baths."
Lawrence and Laud shook on it. When Lawrence turned to look at Holo, who had been watching the exchange, she only gave him an exasperated shrug.

Output:
And since Lawrence was a bathhouse owner, he busied himself with work, directing workers as they lay bricks in the hole they had dug by the river. Holo sat not too far away on a blanket, sipping her drinks as she watched and occasionally writing things down in her diary.
Rahden showed up on the second day, and there was a scene as the villagers tried to stop him from helping. He must have been the sort to always keep himself busy in one way or another for peace of mind. Lawrence gave him the job of hammering down the bottom of the holes to firm up the ground. That way, his knees were protected, and Rahden indeed did a wonderful job.
The final day of the market came at last, and people began turning their attention to the festival.
Salonia's bishop took charge of the affair, and thus began a little festival to celebrate all those who worked hard to bring food besides the loathsome herring to the tables of all those not just in Salonia, but in the surrounding communities as well.
They poured boiled river water into the holes, and they filled them with Lawrence's sulfur.
First, the village children performed a little play that told Rahden's story, of his voyage from Rahdelli to where the village was now, in front of the pond. Baum was in charge up until the point Rahden came to Salonia.
The story then shifted to the present Rahden.
Rahden's face was bright red as he sat silently—he was likely embarrassed—and Sulto came to kneel before him.
"Lord Rahden, this is for you."
What he handed to him was a hook seemingly combined with the crest of the Church.
"Please draw up a gem from this lake with your faith."
Rahden looked as though he was about to start yelling at any moment, but he looked like this because he was tensing his face in order to keep from crying. He took the hook made from the Church crest in hand and stood up.
His movements were powerful; it was hard to imagine that his knees were not in the best shape.
But before he took a step, he turned to Sulto and said, "My knees are no good. May I borrow your shoulder?"
Sulto nodded, eyes wide, and the villagers rushed forward, offering to be his support.
Then, with the entire village surrounding him, Rahden tossed the hook into the water. He had done this once upon a time, every day, from sunup to sundown at the sea in his hometown, and not once in three years had he found any coral.
But there were plenty of deer antlers submerged in the water.
This was proof of people's livelihood, the very same Rahden had come to preserve at the end of his long journey.
"Behold! A divine miracle!"
Salonia's bishop spoke in a booming voice, befitting his station, and the antlers were brought up to the side of the pond. There was a deafening cheer and applause, and the church bells rang, too. Overcome with emotion, Rahden turned to Sulto to express his thanks.
But it was not quite time for that yet.
"Lord Rahden."
The one who appeared was Elsa—the spitting image of a servant of God, whose stiff expression did not falter even in the midst of a celebration.
"Here."
She politely handed him the selection of passages from the scripture, translated by Col, open to a specific page.
"This is..."
Baum appeared before the perplexed tree of a man.
There was something odd resting on his shoulders.
"Lord Rahden! Take this, too!"
He practically shoved into Rahden's arms a net. It was a fishing net, one he had used at the hatchery.
With the scripture booklet in one hand, and the fishing net in the other, Rahden looked confused.
Then, Salonia's bishop appeared with feigned ignorance and said, "Rahden, devout follower of God. He speaks to you in accordance to scripture."
Rahden inhaled, waiting for the next passage.
"Set aside your fishing net, which you use to take in fish. Now you must become a fisherman who will take in people... How does that sound?"
That phrase was what God said to a legendary saint who spread God's teachings.


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

Input:
And since Lawrence was a bathhouse owner, he busied himself with work, directing workers as they lay bricks in the hole they had dug by the river. Holo sat not too far away on a blanket, sipping her drinks as she watched and occasionally writing things down in her diary.
Rahden showed up on the second day, and there was a scene as the villagers tried to stop him from helping. He must have been the sort to always keep himself busy in one way or another for peace of mind. Lawrence gave him the job of hammering down the bottom of the holes to firm up the ground. That way, his knees were protected, and Rahden indeed did a wonderful job.
The final day of the market came at last, and people began turning their attention to the festival.
Salonia's bishop took charge of the affair, and thus began a little festival to celebrate all those who worked hard to bring food besides the loathsome herring to the tables of all those not just in Salonia, but in the surrounding communities as well.
They poured boiled river water into the holes, and they filled them with Lawrence's sulfur.
First, the village children performed a little play that told Rahden's story, of his voyage from Rahdelli to where the village was now, in front of the pond. Baum was in charge up until the point Rahden came to Salonia.
The story then shifted to the present Rahden.
Rahden's face was bright red as he sat silently—he was likely embarrassed—and Sulto came to kneel before him.
"Lord Rahden, this is for you."
What he handed to him was a hook seemingly combined with the crest of the Church.
"Please draw up a gem from this lake with your faith."
Rahden looked as though he was about to start yelling at any moment, but he looked like this because he was tensing his face in order to keep from crying. He took the hook made from the Church crest in hand and stood up.
His movements were powerful; it was hard to imagine that his knees were not in the best shape.
But before he took a step, he turned to Sulto and said, "My knees are no good. May I borrow your shoulder?"
Sulto nodded, eyes wide, and the villagers rushed forward, offering to be his support.
Then, with the entire village surrounding him, Rahden tossed the hook into the water. He had done this once upon a time, every day, from sunup to sundown at the sea in his hometown, and not once in three years had he found any coral.
But there were plenty of deer antlers submerged in the water.
This was proof of people's livelihood, the very same Rahden had come to preserve at the end of his long journey.
"Behold! A divine miracle!"
Salonia's bishop spoke in a booming voice, befitting his station, and the antlers were brought up to the side of the pond. There was a deafening cheer and applause, and the church bells rang, too. Overcome with emotion, Rahden turned to Sulto to express his thanks.
But it was not quite time for that yet.
"Lord Rahden."
The one who appeared was Elsa—the spitting image of a servant of God, whose stiff expression did not falter even in the midst of a celebration.
"Here."
She politely handed him the selection of passages from the scripture, translated by Col, open to a specific page.
"This is..."
Baum appeared before the perplexed tree of a man.
There was something odd resting on his shoulders.
"Lord Rahden! Take this, too!"
He practically shoved into Rahden's arms a net. It was a fishing net, one he had used at the hatchery.
With the scripture booklet in one hand, and the fishing net in the other, Rahden looked confused.
Then, Salonia's bishop appeared with feigned ignorance and said, "Rahden, devout follower of God. He speaks to you in accordance to scripture."
Rahden inhaled, waiting for the next passage.
"Set aside your fishing net, which you use to take in fish. Now you must become a fisherman who will take in people... How does that sound?"
That phrase was what God said to a legendary saint who spread God's teachings.

Output:
When the bishop said that, Rahden smiled with a cough, hunched over, and pressed the scripture and fishing net to his chest.
"I will do...as you command."
Sulto and the other villagers, who had been watching with bated breath, erupted into a cheer.
They all lifted the massive man into the air.
Elsa, who knew what was happening, took the scripture booklet from him.
Rahden covered his eyes as he smiled, and the villagers tossed him into the air.
"Now, into the famous waters of the hot spring village, Nyohhira!"
Rahden was tossed into the water with a big splash. Now no one could tell if another was crying.
The entertainers then began to play their instruments, and food and drink were brought out.
Lawrence felt his eyes watering, a reaction ill-suited to his age, as he watched the villagers laugh with delight—some indulging in a full-body soak while others tentatively dipped their toes in—when someone tapped him on the arm.
"Dear, there is not enough food or drink."
Holo, who already had lamb skewers in her mouth, extended her right hand to him.
Lawrence's shoulders dropped and took her hand.
She stood prim and proper like a princess, and he stood beside her, gripping her hand tightly.
This was her place—a most precious spot for her to rest amid the torrent of time.
And from her favorite spot, she looked up to Lawrence and said, "Why don't you become a fisherman so that you may net plenty of coins? For me?"
Lawrence opened his mouth to speak, but he decided not to. He smiled, and with a sigh he replied, "Of course. As you wish."
Holo grinned, baring her canines.
The festival mood had come early to Salonia.
Perhaps it was written in the annals that within the crowd was a former traveling merchant who was simply no match for his young wife.
***
Interlude: This is a tale of when Col and Myuri still lived in the bathhouse.
Though winter stays were most popular in the hot spring village of Nyohhira, summer saw its fair share of business as well.
Its mountainous location made it cool all year round. Having an ale or wine chilled in the cold rooms filled with snow that had accumulated over the winter, after taking a dip in the hot baths, was a temptation difficult to resist for the sinful alcoholics. That said, there were fewer people visiting in summer than in the winter, and the musicians and dancers had their own businesses to attend to in their homelands, so they were not present. This made summer a rather mild, but relatively lively season to visit Nyohhira.
The guests staying at the Spice and Wolf bathhouse, too, had all gone fishing together, so that made for a quiet morning at the establishment.
"Haaa..."
Holo gave a big yawn; after seeing the guests off, she lay her favorite blanket down in front of the hearth, draped a thin throw over her shoulders, and curled up like a sleepy hound. Her wolf tail, which was typically constricted and hidden when others were around, thumped against the floor in great delight, and she snored quietly. A soft heat wafted from the gently smoldering embers, a perfect complement to Nyohhira's cool summers. And of course, sitting beside Holo was a cup of some alcoholic beverage for her to sip when she awoke.
Holo was so devoted to her daily routine of debauchery, and that made bathhouse owner Lawrence smile slightly. He gazed out the open window, thinking that perhaps tomorrow would be a better day for all the little tasks he had to take care of. He should take a page out of Holo's book and learn to enjoy these peaceful moments.
With that thought in mind, he came to sit beside Holo, running his hand through her beautiful flaxen hair and stroking her wolf ears. Her eyes popped open in slight irritation, but she soon shifted to place her head on his lap.
And her tail began to sway happily once again.
If only moments like these would last forever.
Right after that thought crossed Lawrence's mind, the inn door was flung open with a slam, accompanied by a girl's loud and energetic voice.


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

Input:
When the bishop said that, Rahden smiled with a cough, hunched over, and pressed the scripture and fishing net to his chest.
"I will do...as you command."
Sulto and the other villagers, who had been watching with bated breath, erupted into a cheer.
They all lifted the massive man into the air.
Elsa, who knew what was happening, took the scripture booklet from him.
Rahden covered his eyes as he smiled, and the villagers tossed him into the air.
"Now, into the famous waters of the hot spring village, Nyohhira!"
Rahden was tossed into the water with a big splash. Now no one could tell if another was crying.
The entertainers then began to play their instruments, and food and drink were brought out.
Lawrence felt his eyes watering, a reaction ill-suited to his age, as he watched the villagers laugh with delight—some indulging in a full-body soak while others tentatively dipped their toes in—when someone tapped him on the arm.
"Dear, there is not enough food or drink."
Holo, who already had lamb skewers in her mouth, extended her right hand to him.
Lawrence's shoulders dropped and took her hand.
She stood prim and proper like a princess, and he stood beside her, gripping her hand tightly.
This was her place—a most precious spot for her to rest amid the torrent of time.
And from her favorite spot, she looked up to Lawrence and said, "Why don't you become a fisherman so that you may net plenty of coins? For me?"
Lawrence opened his mouth to speak, but he decided not to. He smiled, and with a sigh he replied, "Of course. As you wish."
Holo grinned, baring her canines.
The festival mood had come early to Salonia.
Perhaps it was written in the annals that within the crowd was a former traveling merchant who was simply no match for his young wife.
***
Interlude: This is a tale of when Col and Myuri still lived in the bathhouse.
Though winter stays were most popular in the hot spring village of Nyohhira, summer saw its fair share of business as well.
Its mountainous location made it cool all year round. Having an ale or wine chilled in the cold rooms filled with snow that had accumulated over the winter, after taking a dip in the hot baths, was a temptation difficult to resist for the sinful alcoholics. That said, there were fewer people visiting in summer than in the winter, and the musicians and dancers had their own businesses to attend to in their homelands, so they were not present. This made summer a rather mild, but relatively lively season to visit Nyohhira.
The guests staying at the Spice and Wolf bathhouse, too, had all gone fishing together, so that made for a quiet morning at the establishment.
"Haaa..."
Holo gave a big yawn; after seeing the guests off, she lay her favorite blanket down in front of the hearth, draped a thin throw over her shoulders, and curled up like a sleepy hound. Her wolf tail, which was typically constricted and hidden when others were around, thumped against the floor in great delight, and she snored quietly. A soft heat wafted from the gently smoldering embers, a perfect complement to Nyohhira's cool summers. And of course, sitting beside Holo was a cup of some alcoholic beverage for her to sip when she awoke.
Holo was so devoted to her daily routine of debauchery, and that made bathhouse owner Lawrence smile slightly. He gazed out the open window, thinking that perhaps tomorrow would be a better day for all the little tasks he had to take care of. He should take a page out of Holo's book and learn to enjoy these peaceful moments.
With that thought in mind, he came to sit beside Holo, running his hand through her beautiful flaxen hair and stroking her wolf ears. Her eyes popped open in slight irritation, but she soon shifted to place her head on his lap.
And her tail began to sway happily once again.
If only moments like these would last forever.
Right after that thought crossed Lawrence's mind, the inn door was flung open with a slam, accompanied by a girl's loud and energetic voice.

Output:
Loud footsteps then began to shake the floor, and the girl's voice grew frantic.
"Brother! Where are you?! Broootheeer!"
The voice belonged to their daughter, Myuri. It was not long ago that they celebrated her coming of age with all their close friends, yet she was as rambunctious as always.
"What is that little fool on about now...?"
Though she and her daughter were near-mirror images of each other, the centuries-old Holo did not sound too pleased about the ordeal.
"Well, she sounds eager to tell us something. You don't think she's plotting some prank again, is she?"
"She called for little Col, though."
The boy Col, who Lawrence and Holo met while they were traveling together, was now a valuable individual who supported the bathhouse's operations, and one whom Myuri looked up to as her older brother. They were family.
"I guess it'd be weird for her to ask for Col if she were plotting a prank."
But the way she was stomping about gave Lawrence a bad feeling and he furrowed his brow; Holo, still laying down, reached for her glass of booze that sat next to her.
Her ears then stood on end all of a sudden, and she gave a disgruntled sigh. The reasons for which did not take long to manifest.
"Mother! Father! Where are you?!"
It was unusual for Myuri to call for her parents, considering how much they scolded her, which earned a heavy sigh from Holo. This could not be a good thing.
Just before lunch, Lawrence armed himself with a bag filled with sausage, a pot, and a large hemp sack strapped to his person. Standing beside him was Col, who carried a sack full of bread and, strangely enough, a copy of the scripture under his arm.
"Safe travels. Bring back something special to share."
Hanna, the woman in charge of the kitchen, saw Lawrence and Col off with the same enthusiasm as she did the guests who went fishing earlier this morning.
The one who gave the most enthusiastic response and a wave of the hand was Myuri as she dashed ahead. Holo followed behind, a vexed look on her face, though she did seem to be enjoying herself, all things considered. The boys, carrying all the luggage, were behind them.
"Hey, sorry, Col, for making you do this on your day off."
"Oh, no, I should be apologizing to you, Mister Lawrence."
Though they apologized to each other, the one who was truly at fault was Myuri.
"There's a demon in the mountains?"
Myuri, her eyes gleaming, her silver wolf ears and tail fidgeting in excitement, had come to her parents to ask just that. Apparently, some of the village children who had ventured into an untouched part of the mountain had come back alarmed and flush-faced.
"The mountain is Mother's territory, right? If there's a demon here, we have to get rid of it!"
She loved tales of adventure; she had taken a branch in hand and was swinging it around like a sword. Col and Lawrence exchanged glances—this was when they would typically scold her for behaving immaturely, but in a surprising twist, it was Holo who spoke up this time.
"It rained not long ago, no? There should be plenty of mushrooms sprouting in the mountains."
The one who held the most sway in the bathhouse was not its owner, but Holo, who had a very short leash on her husband.
And so, they all ended up going mushroom picking together.
"Brother! Father! Hurry up!"
Myuri dashed ahead along the almost imperceptible mountain path. The trek was not a problem for Holo, either, and she proceeded forward with light steps. They were wolf parent and child, of course, but not only were Lawrence and Col merely human, they were also saddled with baggage.
They were so breathlessly concentrated on keeping up that they soon lost their way.
"We'd have to live out the rest of our lives in the woods if we make either of them angry..."
"Ha-ha-ha..." Col laughed dryly.
"But," Lawrence continued, "what did she mean by demon?"


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

Input:
Loud footsteps then began to shake the floor, and the girl's voice grew frantic.
"Brother! Where are you?! Broootheeer!"
The voice belonged to their daughter, Myuri. It was not long ago that they celebrated her coming of age with all their close friends, yet she was as rambunctious as always.
"What is that little fool on about now...?"
Though she and her daughter were near-mirror images of each other, the centuries-old Holo did not sound too pleased about the ordeal.
"Well, she sounds eager to tell us something. You don't think she's plotting some prank again, is she?"
"She called for little Col, though."
The boy Col, who Lawrence and Holo met while they were traveling together, was now a valuable individual who supported the bathhouse's operations, and one whom Myuri looked up to as her older brother. They were family.
"I guess it'd be weird for her to ask for Col if she were plotting a prank."
But the way she was stomping about gave Lawrence a bad feeling and he furrowed his brow; Holo, still laying down, reached for her glass of booze that sat next to her.
Her ears then stood on end all of a sudden, and she gave a disgruntled sigh. The reasons for which did not take long to manifest.
"Mother! Father! Where are you?!"
It was unusual for Myuri to call for her parents, considering how much they scolded her, which earned a heavy sigh from Holo. This could not be a good thing.
Just before lunch, Lawrence armed himself with a bag filled with sausage, a pot, and a large hemp sack strapped to his person. Standing beside him was Col, who carried a sack full of bread and, strangely enough, a copy of the scripture under his arm.
"Safe travels. Bring back something special to share."
Hanna, the woman in charge of the kitchen, saw Lawrence and Col off with the same enthusiasm as she did the guests who went fishing earlier this morning.
The one who gave the most enthusiastic response and a wave of the hand was Myuri as she dashed ahead. Holo followed behind, a vexed look on her face, though she did seem to be enjoying herself, all things considered. The boys, carrying all the luggage, were behind them.
"Hey, sorry, Col, for making you do this on your day off."
"Oh, no, I should be apologizing to you, Mister Lawrence."
Though they apologized to each other, the one who was truly at fault was Myuri.
"There's a demon in the mountains?"
Myuri, her eyes gleaming, her silver wolf ears and tail fidgeting in excitement, had come to her parents to ask just that. Apparently, some of the village children who had ventured into an untouched part of the mountain had come back alarmed and flush-faced.
"The mountain is Mother's territory, right? If there's a demon here, we have to get rid of it!"
She loved tales of adventure; she had taken a branch in hand and was swinging it around like a sword. Col and Lawrence exchanged glances—this was when they would typically scold her for behaving immaturely, but in a surprising twist, it was Holo who spoke up this time.
"It rained not long ago, no? There should be plenty of mushrooms sprouting in the mountains."
The one who held the most sway in the bathhouse was not its owner, but Holo, who had a very short leash on her husband.
And so, they all ended up going mushroom picking together.
"Brother! Father! Hurry up!"
Myuri dashed ahead along the almost imperceptible mountain path. The trek was not a problem for Holo, either, and she proceeded forward with light steps. They were wolf parent and child, of course, but not only were Lawrence and Col merely human, they were also saddled with baggage.
They were so breathlessly concentrated on keeping up that they soon lost their way.
"We'd have to live out the rest of our lives in the woods if we make either of them angry..."
"Ha-ha-ha..." Col laughed dryly.
"But," Lawrence continued, "what did she mean by demon?"

Output:
It seemed she'd thought he would be perfect for exorcising demons.
"I'm not sure... Anyone could mistake a deer or a rabbit for one if they ventured into the mountains in the middle of the night in a test of courage."
"Hmm... Oh, there's a marker. The village kids must have left this here."
The paths the adults used to take into the mountains were relatively safe, but the adventurous spirit of the unruly children lay beyond unmarked paths.
"We don't even come around here during hunting season," Col remarked.
"I hope it's not too far from here..."
Lawrence readjusted the packs on his back, following after the carefree wolf tails as they slipped through the trees.
After trekking for a little longer, the contrasting furs finally stopped moving.
"Phew... Is this it?"
"Yeah, I think so."
Even though Myuri wasn't carrying anything, she had not broken a sweat at all.
As Lawrence pulled out a waterskin full of booze—for Holo, who he knew was going to start begging him for a drink any moment now—he asked, "What did you mean by demon? A bear, or something?"
"What...? By demon, I mean demon! No one would confuse a demon with a bear, obviously."
Indeed, the village children would not get their animals wrong. In that case, it might be a recluse who dressed as a demon. Occasionally, in remote mountains such as this, there lived people who could not find a place living alongside others.
"Is there anyone around?" Lawrence asked Holo as she took a swig of wine from the waterskin, and her ears stood on end.
"That little fool would pick up on them if there were." After wiping a drop of wine that clung to the corner of her mouth on Lawrence's clothes, she stretched. "Mmm. What a nice spot. 'Tis not far from the bathhouse. There must be more nice spots like this."
People came to the mountain to either hunt animals or forage for food, so these types of places were rare.
"Then what did the children see?"
Holo did not respond to Lawrence's question. She shoved her wineskin back at Lawrence and moved to follow her daughter. Myuri led the way, pretending this was an adventure; Lawrence and Col did as Holo directed and were busy picking any mushrooms and blackberries she located.
The reason they brought a pot up was because the queen of the bathhouse had insisted they make mushroom stew for lunch.
Lawrence knew that if he told her the one who wanted the stew should carry the pot herself, he would have found himself abandoned in the mountains. As he finished that thought, he noticed Myuri standing still. She seemed to have come across a particularly large tree. The whole thing was covered in moss, and there was a hole near its roots roomy enough for one large bear to comfortably live in. It was a big, ancient tree.
"It's magnificent," he remarked.
Ignoring the way her daughter stared up at the large tree, Holo said, "Shall we eat here?"
The shadows of the forest trees told them that the sun was well past its zenith. They needed to get started, otherwise it would be sunset by the time they arrived home.
Lawrence and Col put down their things, when Myuri suddenly whirled around.
"What?! But we haven't found the demon yet!"
"The village children told you this, didn't they? You sure they weren't just teasing you?"
Lawrence asked, and Myuri puffed out her cheeks.
"Okay, okay," he sighed. "Once we're done eating, your old man'll help you find this demon."
"Aww..."
She wanted to resume her adventure right away, and she pouted, sulking. Even though she was just old enough for them to start thinking about marrying her off, she still acted like a child; this both relieved and vexed Lawrence at the same time.
Though he was delighted to watch his daughter grow up, he had recently been beset by fits of loneliness at the prospect of letting her go. He took her hand and said to her, "Let's eat first."
Myuri was just about to do as she was told, reluctantly, when her head whipped around in another direction.
***


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

Input:
It seemed she'd thought he would be perfect for exorcising demons.
"I'm not sure... Anyone could mistake a deer or a rabbit for one if they ventured into the mountains in the middle of the night in a test of courage."
"Hmm... Oh, there's a marker. The village kids must have left this here."
The paths the adults used to take into the mountains were relatively safe, but the adventurous spirit of the unruly children lay beyond unmarked paths.
"We don't even come around here during hunting season," Col remarked.
"I hope it's not too far from here..."
Lawrence readjusted the packs on his back, following after the carefree wolf tails as they slipped through the trees.
After trekking for a little longer, the contrasting furs finally stopped moving.
"Phew... Is this it?"
"Yeah, I think so."
Even though Myuri wasn't carrying anything, she had not broken a sweat at all.
As Lawrence pulled out a waterskin full of booze—for Holo, who he knew was going to start begging him for a drink any moment now—he asked, "What did you mean by demon? A bear, or something?"
"What...? By demon, I mean demon! No one would confuse a demon with a bear, obviously."
Indeed, the village children would not get their animals wrong. In that case, it might be a recluse who dressed as a demon. Occasionally, in remote mountains such as this, there lived people who could not find a place living alongside others.
"Is there anyone around?" Lawrence asked Holo as she took a swig of wine from the waterskin, and her ears stood on end.
"That little fool would pick up on them if there were." After wiping a drop of wine that clung to the corner of her mouth on Lawrence's clothes, she stretched. "Mmm. What a nice spot. 'Tis not far from the bathhouse. There must be more nice spots like this."
People came to the mountain to either hunt animals or forage for food, so these types of places were rare.
"Then what did the children see?"
Holo did not respond to Lawrence's question. She shoved her wineskin back at Lawrence and moved to follow her daughter. Myuri led the way, pretending this was an adventure; Lawrence and Col did as Holo directed and were busy picking any mushrooms and blackberries she located.
The reason they brought a pot up was because the queen of the bathhouse had insisted they make mushroom stew for lunch.
Lawrence knew that if he told her the one who wanted the stew should carry the pot herself, he would have found himself abandoned in the mountains. As he finished that thought, he noticed Myuri standing still. She seemed to have come across a particularly large tree. The whole thing was covered in moss, and there was a hole near its roots roomy enough for one large bear to comfortably live in. It was a big, ancient tree.
"It's magnificent," he remarked.
Ignoring the way her daughter stared up at the large tree, Holo said, "Shall we eat here?"
The shadows of the forest trees told them that the sun was well past its zenith. They needed to get started, otherwise it would be sunset by the time they arrived home.
Lawrence and Col put down their things, when Myuri suddenly whirled around.
"What?! But we haven't found the demon yet!"
"The village children told you this, didn't they? You sure they weren't just teasing you?"
Lawrence asked, and Myuri puffed out her cheeks.
"Okay, okay," he sighed. "Once we're done eating, your old man'll help you find this demon."
"Aww..."
She wanted to resume her adventure right away, and she pouted, sulking. Even though she was just old enough for them to start thinking about marrying her off, she still acted like a child; this both relieved and vexed Lawrence at the same time.
Though he was delighted to watch his daughter grow up, he had recently been beset by fits of loneliness at the prospect of letting her go. He took her hand and said to her, "Let's eat first."
Myuri was just about to do as she was told, reluctantly, when her head whipped around in another direction.
***

Output:
She was a young wolf who had found prey. The way she looked when this happened was breathtakingly awe-inspiring and beautiful.
Myuri, full of a youthful light that Holo simply did not possess, suddenly dashed off and rounded the large tree.
"Myuri!"
Panicked, Lawrence rushed after her, rounding the tree's roots, and found his daughter standing there.
And there he saw that the silver fur on her tail—a color she got from him—was standing on end in a way he had never seen before.
***
"What?"
Myuri stood stock-still, and Col's footsteps followed as he rushed over to see what was happening.
In that moment, there came a piercing scream, one that made it seem as though the giant tree had burst.
"Eeeeeeee!"
Myuri screamed so loud that it seemed like all the hair on her tail might fall off, whirled around on her heel, and then ran.
Whatever she had seen was enough to give her a good scare.
But this was Lawrence's most beloved daughter. Though she'd grown standoffish after coming of age, Lawrence knew he should still comfort her in her fear; he spread his arms wide to accept her, but she ran straight past him.
"Brotheeer!"
"Wh-what's going on?!"
"Brother, Brother! It's the demon! The demon's here!"
Lawrence could hear Myuri crying in Col's arms behind him.
Col was holding her tightly, trying to soothe her out of her fear.
Though as beautiful a bond between brother and sister it was, Lawrence wasn't sure what to do with his spread arms. He supposed he wasn't the one she went to for help anymore.
As he stood there, disappointed, he heard the approaching sound of crunching leaves.
It was Holo, peering up at him with a mean smile.
"You fool."
She grinned, grabbed Lawrence's awkwardly outstretched arms, and pulled him closer.
The shrewd wisewolf walked off, pulling Lawrence by the arm as she did so. She took him to where Myuri had been standing and Lawrence found himself freezing in place.
A demon was trying to crawl out from the ground.
"Oh, whoa—"
It also gave him a good fright, and he almost landed on his behind. It looked as though the pale hand of a corpse was crawling out of the ground; its nails were long and sinister, and its eerie fingers were pointed.
"Wh-what is—?"
He did not honestly think that a demon was coming out from the mountain. As he stood with his breath held, Holo let go of him, crouched down besides the hand, and reached out to touch the demon's fingers.
And after a firm poke, its finger snapped.
"You fool. 'Tis a mushroom."
"What?!"
Disregarding Lawrence's shock, Holo burst out in laughter, her shoulders shaking as she did so.
"Heh-heh-heh... Were you petrified by a mushroom?" she cackled, waving her hand as she stood. "But once, long ago, I thought someone had been buried alive when I spotted one in the woods and tried to dig them out."
"Y-you did?"
"It looked just like the hand of a corpse, you know. I have a feeling 'tis called by a similar name."
One of the fingers had broken off when Holo poked it, but that did not make it seem any less like the pale hand of a demon.
"But I suppose 'tis rather rare for a corpse's hand to look this clean."
It sounded as though she was trying to cheer him up when a thought suddenly occurred to Lawrence.
"You knew it was a mushroom all along?"
"Perhaps I did, and perhaps not."
She shrugged, turning around to grab Lawrence's hand and drag him away.
"Come now, 'tis time to eat. No one has come up this way yet, so the largest mushrooms are all ours for the harvesting. We must also gather some for Hanna once we are finished eating. I am quite looking forward to having some pickled, salted, and dried."
Lawrence found himself both exasperated and smiling in response to Holo's upbeat musings.
Or perhaps he was pleasantly surprised to know that there were all sorts of mysteries left in the world; he had not come to know everything about the world, after all.
"But..."


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

Input:
She was a young wolf who had found prey. The way she looked when this happened was breathtakingly awe-inspiring and beautiful.
Myuri, full of a youthful light that Holo simply did not possess, suddenly dashed off and rounded the large tree.
"Myuri!"
Panicked, Lawrence rushed after her, rounding the tree's roots, and found his daughter standing there.
And there he saw that the silver fur on her tail—a color she got from him—was standing on end in a way he had never seen before.
***
"What?"
Myuri stood stock-still, and Col's footsteps followed as he rushed over to see what was happening.
In that moment, there came a piercing scream, one that made it seem as though the giant tree had burst.
"Eeeeeeee!"
Myuri screamed so loud that it seemed like all the hair on her tail might fall off, whirled around on her heel, and then ran.
Whatever she had seen was enough to give her a good scare.
But this was Lawrence's most beloved daughter. Though she'd grown standoffish after coming of age, Lawrence knew he should still comfort her in her fear; he spread his arms wide to accept her, but she ran straight past him.
"Brotheeer!"
"Wh-what's going on?!"
"Brother, Brother! It's the demon! The demon's here!"
Lawrence could hear Myuri crying in Col's arms behind him.
Col was holding her tightly, trying to soothe her out of her fear.
Though as beautiful a bond between brother and sister it was, Lawrence wasn't sure what to do with his spread arms. He supposed he wasn't the one she went to for help anymore.
As he stood there, disappointed, he heard the approaching sound of crunching leaves.
It was Holo, peering up at him with a mean smile.
"You fool."
She grinned, grabbed Lawrence's awkwardly outstretched arms, and pulled him closer.
The shrewd wisewolf walked off, pulling Lawrence by the arm as she did so. She took him to where Myuri had been standing and Lawrence found himself freezing in place.
A demon was trying to crawl out from the ground.
"Oh, whoa—"
It also gave him a good fright, and he almost landed on his behind. It looked as though the pale hand of a corpse was crawling out of the ground; its nails were long and sinister, and its eerie fingers were pointed.
"Wh-what is—?"
He did not honestly think that a demon was coming out from the mountain. As he stood with his breath held, Holo let go of him, crouched down besides the hand, and reached out to touch the demon's fingers.
And after a firm poke, its finger snapped.
"You fool. 'Tis a mushroom."
"What?!"
Disregarding Lawrence's shock, Holo burst out in laughter, her shoulders shaking as she did so.
"Heh-heh-heh... Were you petrified by a mushroom?" she cackled, waving her hand as she stood. "But once, long ago, I thought someone had been buried alive when I spotted one in the woods and tried to dig them out."
"Y-you did?"
"It looked just like the hand of a corpse, you know. I have a feeling 'tis called by a similar name."
One of the fingers had broken off when Holo poked it, but that did not make it seem any less like the pale hand of a demon.
"But I suppose 'tis rather rare for a corpse's hand to look this clean."
It sounded as though she was trying to cheer him up when a thought suddenly occurred to Lawrence.
"You knew it was a mushroom all along?"
"Perhaps I did, and perhaps not."
She shrugged, turning around to grab Lawrence's hand and drag him away.
"Come now, 'tis time to eat. No one has come up this way yet, so the largest mushrooms are all ours for the harvesting. We must also gather some for Hanna once we are finished eating. I am quite looking forward to having some pickled, salted, and dried."
Lawrence found himself both exasperated and smiling in response to Holo's upbeat musings.
Or perhaps he was pleasantly surprised to know that there were all sorts of mysteries left in the world; he had not come to know everything about the world, after all.
"But..."

Output:
As he stood there, an uneasy impatience nagging at him, Holo tugged on his sleeve.
"Is something the matter?"
If he openly expressed his jealousy over Myuri, Holo would surely taunt him for being a fool again.
He had dignity to maintain, both as a father and a husband.
"Nothing, actually."
"Mm."
She smiled at him, her all-knowing wisewolf smile, but she did not poke him any further.
They then lit the fire, boiled plenty of mushrooms in their pot, then found plenty more to take home.
It was summer in Nyohhira.
It was a good season, where the cool breeze offered relief from the strong rays of the sun.
***
One day, a saint sent by God built a hermitage on a stretch of land that was once home to a scattered farming village. Starved of God's love, many came to visit the hermitage, which became a place for locals to trade, which in turn attracted merchants. Before any realized it, a village had sprung up around the hermitage, and in time, it grew into a town.
This was the basic premise of Salonia's creation myth, but a traveling merchant acquaintance told her that the likeliest story was that a charismatic individual who was not quite who they claimed to be came to live in the area, jumped on the bandwagon to develop the area, and made it look like a town, at least superficially. When priestess Elsa first heard that, she thought, How typical, as she scanned Salonia's busy streets with honey-colored eyes.
Elsa originally lived in a village very far from Salonia, but she left her family behind to visit various churches around the world. These churches were no longer keeping up with the ways of the world and were struggling to adapt to the times, which made people with sharp executive abilities like her a necessity. She had eventually found herself here, happily moving from place to place as the Church demanded; she was, of course, a very pious woman.
But hearing the truth behind Salonia's creation myth was chilling because it served as a reminder that there were very few things in this world that were genuine.
And so, she was not surprised when she saw that Salonia's church had been left in the care of a bishop who was vaguely untrustworthy. And when money trouble once again reared its ugly head, all she could do was give a little sigh.
"Someone seems irritated, no?"
Salonia was currently gripped by excitement for the festival that would be the high point of their grand market, yet Elsa sat under the eaves of an out-of-the-way tavern nestled in a quiet side street; she looked up when she heard the familiar voice speak to her.
"Fancy seeing you here."
The young girl with flaxen hair did not bother to reply to Elsa's statement, nor did she bother to ask permission to sit with Elsa before taking a seat opposite her and calling over the tavernkeeper in a practiced manner.
The mismatch of her sage-like demeanor and her youthful appearance stemmed from the fact that she was currently inhabiting a temporary form. She was, in fact, a centuries-old wolf spirit, and whenever Elsa looked at her, it always struck her how much the way she thought about wolves had changed ever since they met.
She didn't know if this was a good or bad thing, but she was certain that this wolf avatar would be furious with her if she shared these thoughts with her.
"'Tis quite a shock to find you in such a desolate, sad place," Holo said, accepting the wine and the meat-and-vegetable stew the tavernkeeper brought her.
"Because this stew is delicious. And it is quiet here."
"Ah, yes. You are no pompous official of the Church. You are a village girl."
Elsa felt rather embarrassed still being called a "girl" after having three children of her own, but perhaps their meeting decades ago felt like a recent development to a spirit who had lived for centuries.
She brought her ale up to her lips as the thought crossed her mind.
"And you are well off enough to be drinking at lunch."