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

Input:
"Not too much!" said Lawrence, trying to grab the cup away as Holo immediately went for a third drink. But his hand stopped before it ever reached the cup.
Lawrence's gaze went from Holo's chest up to her face.
"Is that...," he started, and Holo took her third drink as though she was trying to escape.
She exhaled a second puff of breath, and she finally smiled a Holo-like smile as the color returned to her face. "I'm a fool, aren't I?" she asked, referring to her drinking more wine after already being drunk.
If he had demanded an explanation, he surely would have gotten one. Holo held the cup in both hands but with her arms pressed tightly to her sides. Even if that was partially due to the cold, there was another truer reason.
She was holding something there, the outline of it just visible in what lamplight came through the window shutter.
"They arrived a bit after you went out. But...," began Holo, handing Lawrence her cup and producing the items from under her arm. There were two sealed letters, one of which was significantly larger than the other. As though a map might have been drawn on it.
"This is what you searched for on my behalf. It didn't seem right for just me and Col to look at them. To say nothing of that blockhead." Her tone was sharp, but her face smiled drunkenly. She was probably embarrassed that she could not hide her happiness.
Holo had stood outside, shivering like a fool, just to freeze that foolish grin into her face.
"I thought," said Holo, looking up, "that it would be fitting to look at it with you."
It was partially the wine's effect, but Holo's face in the firelight looked like roasted honey candy. Lawrence reached out to her with his empty hand. He caressed her left cheek with his thumb, as though putting her face's soft curve back into place.
Even if she had made the logical decision regarding how to make for Yoitsu, evidently that did not mean all her subsequent decisions would be made using logic. Which was what had led to her amusingly foolish notion to venture out and wait for him in this freezing midwinter weather.
"You are quite the fool, yes."
Holo flashed her fangs, and her breath puffed whitely past them. Lawrence gave her a full, but light, embrace, then pulled back.
"You haven't opened them yet?"
"I did hold them up to the sun many times, trying to see through."
She did not want to open them but desperately wanted to see the contents. Lawrence imagined her trying to resolve this terrible conflict by holding the letters up to the sun—a tactic more suited to a foolish puppy than a clever wisewolf.
Lawrence patted her head. "Who should open them?"
"Me."
Of course, Lawrence thought to himself, but then Holo pushed the two letters in her hand at him. "...is what I would want to say, but there are two letters here. If I look at one of them, I fear I may collapse into weeping again."
Lawrence thought back to when Holo had fooled him into thinking she could not read. He had carelessly left a record of the destruction of Yoitsu where she could find it, and trouble had resulted.
Lawrence accepted the letters almost apologetically and with a pained smile. If Holo had wanted to read them he would have let her, but otherwise he did not want her exposed to them.
Her hand brushed against his and was quite cold. Somehow, he was brought to notice the contrast between her hands and Le Roi's—how small and delicate and feminine hers were.
"But the negotiations went well, did they?"
Lawrence returned the cup to Holo and was about to unseal the letters when Holo suddenly brought the other subject up.
"Weren't you listening?" Holo's ears could have heard the conversation inside the shop, Lawrence assumed.
But Holo shook her head. "I could not hear," she said, then sighed and gave him an upturned gaze. "But I know the outcome."
It was as though she were posing a riddle.

Output:
There was a moment of silence.
Holo cracked first, but certainly not out of forgiveness for Lawrence's obtuseness.
"That meat bun of a man's face was so pleased, so the negotiations must have been a success. But your face was not so happy. What might have caused that, I wonder?"
"Ugh," Lawrence groaned, which was as good as any confession.
Holo folded her arms and sighed. Her wine-soaked breath only emphasized her anger. "You hoped that the negotiations would fail and that you'd be able to go to Yoitsu with me."
She had seen right through him.
He said nothing and only averted his face.
"And if you'd lost your chance for profit and brought disaster to Yoitsu, when then? No, that is not even the problem. What bothers me can be expressed quite completely thus: You're even more of a maiden than I!"
"...Can't you at least call me 'sentimental'?"
"Hmph!" Holo snorted, and Lawrence watched her drink her wine, bitter thoughts filling his mind. "There are good sentiments and bad sentiments, you know."
It was in these times most of all that Holo's wisewolf side came out. Lawrence sighed and unsealed the letters. The first one he opened was the larger, the one likely to have a map drawn upon it.
Holo sipped her wine in an attempt to disguise her keen interest, but her eyes were carefully watching Lawrence's hands.
Lawrence pulled a thick sheet of parchment out of the envelope. He traded it to Holo for her cup. He sipped it as he watched Holo's nervous face. It was a strong, dry wine.
"Come, now," said Holo before opening the parchment.
"Hm?"
Her eyes were on the about-to-be-opened map. Or else she thought something incredible was hiding between its folded pages.
"What's wrong?" Lawrence asked again.
Holo's eyes reflected the yellow lamplight as they turned to Lawrence. "Even if you cannot go with me...can we not at least read this together?"
Lawrence chuckled through his nose in spite of himself. He nodded and moved from facing Holo to standing alongside her. This blocked the light that spilled from the window, so Lawrence gently nudged Holo over.
All the while, Holo held the map in her hands, her posture unchanging.
"All right," said Lawrence.
After looking up at him uncertainly, Holo held her breath and opened the map.
"Oh ho." The admiring voice was Lawrence's.
Even in the uncertainly flickering lamplight, the map was obviously a magnificent thing.
As was customary on maps, the four corners had been decorated with drawings of gods or spirits, and in the far south sea was a drawing of a water basin said to never run dry, along with a vast octopus trying to drink it all.
The towns and villages were connected by lines indicating major roads. Some of the remote villages' names were unknown to Lawrence, while some others would have been unknown to anyone who was not a traveling merchant. Among the mountains, too, spirits were drawn here and there, which made the locations evocative of much more ancient times. Perhaps Fran was drawing on legends and stories she herself had collected.
Lawrence lowered his head to Holo's level and peered at the map more closely.
The road leading up from the south passed through Pasloe and Ruvinheigen, past Kumersun and on to Lenos. On the map, of course, it continued on, through several towns with which Lawrence was unfamiliar, before leading into a vast forest.
As he followed the road to its end, his eyes immediately fixed upon a drawing of a wolf.
Evidently Hugues had taken up the pen in Fran's stead there, so it was his idea of a joke—or perhaps he was just being considerate.
Tolkien.
It was written in a large, flowing hand across the whole of the region.
In the drawing, the wolf seemed to howl out the name, and near its foot, small but very distinct, there it was.
Yoitsu.
The name of Holo's homeland.
"There it is," said Lawrence, and Holo nodded.
It was a small nod, barely a hiccup, but she agreed. "Oh, 'tis a real place after all."


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

Input:
There was a moment of silence.
Holo cracked first, but certainly not out of forgiveness for Lawrence's obtuseness.
"That meat bun of a man's face was so pleased, so the negotiations must have been a success. But your face was not so happy. What might have caused that, I wonder?"
"Ugh," Lawrence groaned, which was as good as any confession.
Holo folded her arms and sighed. Her wine-soaked breath only emphasized her anger. "You hoped that the negotiations would fail and that you'd be able to go to Yoitsu with me."
She had seen right through him.
He said nothing and only averted his face.
"And if you'd lost your chance for profit and brought disaster to Yoitsu, when then? No, that is not even the problem. What bothers me can be expressed quite completely thus: You're even more of a maiden than I!"
"...Can't you at least call me 'sentimental'?"
"Hmph!" Holo snorted, and Lawrence watched her drink her wine, bitter thoughts filling his mind. "There are good sentiments and bad sentiments, you know."
It was in these times most of all that Holo's wisewolf side came out. Lawrence sighed and unsealed the letters. The first one he opened was the larger, the one likely to have a map drawn upon it.
Holo sipped her wine in an attempt to disguise her keen interest, but her eyes were carefully watching Lawrence's hands.
Lawrence pulled a thick sheet of parchment out of the envelope. He traded it to Holo for her cup. He sipped it as he watched Holo's nervous face. It was a strong, dry wine.
"Come, now," said Holo before opening the parchment.
"Hm?"
Her eyes were on the about-to-be-opened map. Or else she thought something incredible was hiding between its folded pages.
"What's wrong?" Lawrence asked again.
Holo's eyes reflected the yellow lamplight as they turned to Lawrence. "Even if you cannot go with me...can we not at least read this together?"
Lawrence chuckled through his nose in spite of himself. He nodded and moved from facing Holo to standing alongside her. This blocked the light that spilled from the window, so Lawrence gently nudged Holo over.
All the while, Holo held the map in her hands, her posture unchanging.
"All right," said Lawrence.
After looking up at him uncertainly, Holo held her breath and opened the map.
"Oh ho." The admiring voice was Lawrence's.
Even in the uncertainly flickering lamplight, the map was obviously a magnificent thing.
As was customary on maps, the four corners had been decorated with drawings of gods or spirits, and in the far south sea was a drawing of a water basin said to never run dry, along with a vast octopus trying to drink it all.
The towns and villages were connected by lines indicating major roads. Some of the remote villages' names were unknown to Lawrence, while some others would have been unknown to anyone who was not a traveling merchant. Among the mountains, too, spirits were drawn here and there, which made the locations evocative of much more ancient times. Perhaps Fran was drawing on legends and stories she herself had collected.
Lawrence lowered his head to Holo's level and peered at the map more closely.
The road leading up from the south passed through Pasloe and Ruvinheigen, past Kumersun and on to Lenos. On the map, of course, it continued on, through several towns with which Lawrence was unfamiliar, before leading into a vast forest.
As he followed the road to its end, his eyes immediately fixed upon a drawing of a wolf.
Evidently Hugues had taken up the pen in Fran's stead there, so it was his idea of a joke—or perhaps he was just being considerate.
Tolkien.
It was written in a large, flowing hand across the whole of the region.
In the drawing, the wolf seemed to howl out the name, and near its foot, small but very distinct, there it was.
Yoitsu.
The name of Holo's homeland.
"There it is," said Lawrence, and Holo nodded.
It was a small nod, barely a hiccup, but she agreed. "Oh, 'tis a real place after all."

Output:
They had finally found it. After all that.
Lawrence was a little frustrated that his expectation had been wrong. "I never actually thought that we'd find it."
After all, he had only heard the name once before, as a detail in a story someone else had been telling. And based on that memory alone, he had promised to take Holo there, mostly because he had been so shaken by meeting the being named Holo. If he stopped to think about it logically, it would have been crazy to think it were discoverable at all.
But ever since embarking on this mad cloud-chasing quest, he had realized that even in this world, there were many eccentrics whose fascination led them to chase such tales.
And not all of those tales were made-up or exaggerated; he had come to understand that some of them were real. That alone lent some amount of meaning to the fact that he had managed to bring Holo this far.
Holo, similarly, seemed to be considering various things and did not become angry.
Lawrence rubbed her head affectionately with his right hand. Normally she would find this irritating, but this time she let him, giggling.
"Ask and ye shall receive." Holo quoted a famous scripture. "If a god once worshipped by humans says it, it's certainly captured a sort of truth."
"If it's given you that sort of optimism, then our work has succeeded."
Holo turned her head beneath Lawrence's hand and looked up at him. All the coincidences and fated moments had piled up to bring them to this instant.
Holo grinned and flashed her teeth. "Hey," she said, folding the map and letting slip something like a sigh. "Thank you."
Her chin lifted, nearing Lawrence's cheek.
A soft sensation pressed against his cheek, but the tender feeling of parting did not come.
Before his face, Lawrence's gaze followed Holo. Smiling, she ducked her head down and looked as though she was resisting the urge to shout something.
Lawrence smiled faintly, looking up with as much exhaustion as Holo had shown.
"I've been stabbed, beaten, and nearly bankrupted."
"Mm?"
"And after all that, this is my reward?" Lawrence said, closing one eye and putting his index finger to his cheek.
Holo kept her finger between the folded sides of the map and looked up at Lawrence. "Are you dissatisfied, then?"
This sort of moment suited Holo the Wisewolf of Yoitsu much more than tears did.
"Certainly not."
"Mm. 'Tis well, then."
Lawrence's shoulders sagged, and Holo took his arm. She then took the envelope from Lawrence's hand and, keeping his arm under hers, adroitly slipped the map back inside the envelope. "'Twould be awful to lose it. You should hold it."
"Unfortunately, both my hands are full." His left held the other letter between its ring and little finger, with the thumb and index finger holding the wine cup. His right arm, meanwhile, was being held by Holo.
Holo took the cup from him and replaced it with the map. "I'll take charge of this," she said.
"Fine, fine."
Holo then immediately put the cup to her lips, but the wine was still strong. No matter how much she might love the draught, wanting to drink such harsh liquor so quickly spoke of some discontent in her breast.
Her grip on his arm tightened, and her tail puffed up. Lawrence resisted laughing at her pride.
Thinking about her struggle with Elsa over Col, it occurred to him that this was simply Holo's personality, and there would be no changing it now.
"So, did you all eat dinner?" Lawrence asked. If they did not get off the topic of the map, she would soon be accusing him of sentimentality again.
He ventured to change the subject to something of practical concern, but Holo did not seem pleased. "Your instinct for mood is truly...ah, well, I suppose nothing can be done about it."
Lawrence swallowed back the desire to tell her to reflect on what she had said just moments earlier. In times like these, at least, she truly was selfish.
"I do not believe they've eaten. That hardhead is so tiresomely dutiful about such things, after all."


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

Input:
They had finally found it. After all that.
Lawrence was a little frustrated that his expectation had been wrong. "I never actually thought that we'd find it."
After all, he had only heard the name once before, as a detail in a story someone else had been telling. And based on that memory alone, he had promised to take Holo there, mostly because he had been so shaken by meeting the being named Holo. If he stopped to think about it logically, it would have been crazy to think it were discoverable at all.
But ever since embarking on this mad cloud-chasing quest, he had realized that even in this world, there were many eccentrics whose fascination led them to chase such tales.
And not all of those tales were made-up or exaggerated; he had come to understand that some of them were real. That alone lent some amount of meaning to the fact that he had managed to bring Holo this far.
Holo, similarly, seemed to be considering various things and did not become angry.
Lawrence rubbed her head affectionately with his right hand. Normally she would find this irritating, but this time she let him, giggling.
"Ask and ye shall receive." Holo quoted a famous scripture. "If a god once worshipped by humans says it, it's certainly captured a sort of truth."
"If it's given you that sort of optimism, then our work has succeeded."
Holo turned her head beneath Lawrence's hand and looked up at him. All the coincidences and fated moments had piled up to bring them to this instant.
Holo grinned and flashed her teeth. "Hey," she said, folding the map and letting slip something like a sigh. "Thank you."
Her chin lifted, nearing Lawrence's cheek.
A soft sensation pressed against his cheek, but the tender feeling of parting did not come.
Before his face, Lawrence's gaze followed Holo. Smiling, she ducked her head down and looked as though she was resisting the urge to shout something.
Lawrence smiled faintly, looking up with as much exhaustion as Holo had shown.
"I've been stabbed, beaten, and nearly bankrupted."
"Mm?"
"And after all that, this is my reward?" Lawrence said, closing one eye and putting his index finger to his cheek.
Holo kept her finger between the folded sides of the map and looked up at Lawrence. "Are you dissatisfied, then?"
This sort of moment suited Holo the Wisewolf of Yoitsu much more than tears did.
"Certainly not."
"Mm. 'Tis well, then."
Lawrence's shoulders sagged, and Holo took his arm. She then took the envelope from Lawrence's hand and, keeping his arm under hers, adroitly slipped the map back inside the envelope. "'Twould be awful to lose it. You should hold it."
"Unfortunately, both my hands are full." His left held the other letter between its ring and little finger, with the thumb and index finger holding the wine cup. His right arm, meanwhile, was being held by Holo.
Holo took the cup from him and replaced it with the map. "I'll take charge of this," she said.
"Fine, fine."
Holo then immediately put the cup to her lips, but the wine was still strong. No matter how much she might love the draught, wanting to drink such harsh liquor so quickly spoke of some discontent in her breast.
Her grip on his arm tightened, and her tail puffed up. Lawrence resisted laughing at her pride.
Thinking about her struggle with Elsa over Col, it occurred to him that this was simply Holo's personality, and there would be no changing it now.
"So, did you all eat dinner?" Lawrence asked. If they did not get off the topic of the map, she would soon be accusing him of sentimentality again.
He ventured to change the subject to something of practical concern, but Holo did not seem pleased. "Your instinct for mood is truly...ah, well, I suppose nothing can be done about it."
Lawrence swallowed back the desire to tell her to reflect on what she had said just moments earlier. In times like these, at least, she truly was selfish.
"I do not believe they've eaten. That hardhead is so tiresomely dutiful about such things, after all."

Output:
But if them having delayed eating was in fact the case...Lawrence nudged Holo over toward the source of the faint light, changing their direction.
"Mm?"
"This way's shorter. We'll stop by a tavern on the way and get some food. I'm fairly sure if we follow this street, we'll come out near the Beast and Fish Tail."
"Aye. Make sure to buy me some more strong wine."
At this Lawrence realized that Holo was still holding the cup. Damn, he thought, but it would be such trouble to go back to return it. Tomorrow would suffice.
Thus resolved, down the street they walked. It was well lit simply from the light that leaked through the window cracks of the houses along it. Houses on both sides were quite tall, which gave the street a mysterious atmosphere.
Looking ahead the passage seemed to grow quite narrow, but as they walked along, it was not indeed so. As they eclipsed doors and windows, the sounds and smells of people's lives flowed out, almost as though they were walking through the homes themselves. And then, abruptly, both sides of the street would be stone wall again, and there would be silence.
At their feet, too, earth would be replaced by stone, then earth again, the footing ever uncertain.
The scenes that appeared and disappeared were but tiny glimpses of lives, the overheard voices faint after traversing so many walls.
On and on they walked, reality becoming less and less certain.
It was like a world out of a dream.
The map was finally in their hands; the location of Yoitsu had been given to them. Aided by that euphoria, Lawrence felt a strange comfort in the seemingly endless nature of the street.
Perhaps that was why. For a moment his merchant's caution was left behind, and he murmured thoughtless words.
"Why did I choose Le Roi?"
He had only just been roundly mocked for being sentimental. If she had laughed at him once, she would do it twice, three times. And just as being drunk on wine made him so, the atmosphere of the street was itself intoxicating, and he spoke the words as though accusing himself.
"You wish to come to Yoitsu with me so much, do you?"
The most compelling argument would not calm a crying infant.
Holo smiled an exasperated smile and adjusted her grip on his arm, as though to soothe him.
And then, just as he was about to say something else, Lawrence interrupted himself. "I do."
His tone was so firm it surprised even him. He then looked to the still more surprised Holo and finally came to his senses. He hid his mouth with the map and letter, and looked aside.
Holo's gaze pierced his cheek. At length, though, he heard her muffled laugh. "Heh. We've just terrible timing, you and I."
"...?" Like a stray cat being tempted with food, Lawrence's caution was overcome by his curiosity, and he looked back at Holo—whereupon the malicious trap he expected to see had been replaced by her serene profile.
"I've given it much thought, and I believe you must go after the book. I said it, did I not? We must take the fruitful path."
If all went well, he would be three hundred silver pieces richer, and it might well contribute at least a little to avoiding the ruin of the north. Lawrence understood that much. And yet, the three hundred silvers was profit for Lawrence. The protection of the northlands was Holo's gain.
Considered thus, going together to Yoitsu would be profit for the pair of them, Lawrence and Holo together. It was not entirely unsentimental.
What Lawrence could not bring himself to accept was the reasoning behind throwing away the profit they stood to share together in order to pursue the more realistic profits separately.
"Come, now. How many of us are traveling?" Holo's words were brief, but the question was very clear. Her amber eyes flicked in his direction.
"...Three of us."
"And what does the lad stand to gain from going to Yoitsu?"
Lawrence found himself momentarily dizzy at the question. "W-well...but..."


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

Input:
But if them having delayed eating was in fact the case...Lawrence nudged Holo over toward the source of the faint light, changing their direction.
"Mm?"
"This way's shorter. We'll stop by a tavern on the way and get some food. I'm fairly sure if we follow this street, we'll come out near the Beast and Fish Tail."
"Aye. Make sure to buy me some more strong wine."
At this Lawrence realized that Holo was still holding the cup. Damn, he thought, but it would be such trouble to go back to return it. Tomorrow would suffice.
Thus resolved, down the street they walked. It was well lit simply from the light that leaked through the window cracks of the houses along it. Houses on both sides were quite tall, which gave the street a mysterious atmosphere.
Looking ahead the passage seemed to grow quite narrow, but as they walked along, it was not indeed so. As they eclipsed doors and windows, the sounds and smells of people's lives flowed out, almost as though they were walking through the homes themselves. And then, abruptly, both sides of the street would be stone wall again, and there would be silence.
At their feet, too, earth would be replaced by stone, then earth again, the footing ever uncertain.
The scenes that appeared and disappeared were but tiny glimpses of lives, the overheard voices faint after traversing so many walls.
On and on they walked, reality becoming less and less certain.
It was like a world out of a dream.
The map was finally in their hands; the location of Yoitsu had been given to them. Aided by that euphoria, Lawrence felt a strange comfort in the seemingly endless nature of the street.
Perhaps that was why. For a moment his merchant's caution was left behind, and he murmured thoughtless words.
"Why did I choose Le Roi?"
He had only just been roundly mocked for being sentimental. If she had laughed at him once, she would do it twice, three times. And just as being drunk on wine made him so, the atmosphere of the street was itself intoxicating, and he spoke the words as though accusing himself.
"You wish to come to Yoitsu with me so much, do you?"
The most compelling argument would not calm a crying infant.
Holo smiled an exasperated smile and adjusted her grip on his arm, as though to soothe him.
And then, just as he was about to say something else, Lawrence interrupted himself. "I do."
His tone was so firm it surprised even him. He then looked to the still more surprised Holo and finally came to his senses. He hid his mouth with the map and letter, and looked aside.
Holo's gaze pierced his cheek. At length, though, he heard her muffled laugh. "Heh. We've just terrible timing, you and I."
"...?" Like a stray cat being tempted with food, Lawrence's caution was overcome by his curiosity, and he looked back at Holo—whereupon the malicious trap he expected to see had been replaced by her serene profile.
"I've given it much thought, and I believe you must go after the book. I said it, did I not? We must take the fruitful path."
If all went well, he would be three hundred silver pieces richer, and it might well contribute at least a little to avoiding the ruin of the north. Lawrence understood that much. And yet, the three hundred silvers was profit for Lawrence. The protection of the northlands was Holo's gain.
Considered thus, going together to Yoitsu would be profit for the pair of them, Lawrence and Holo together. It was not entirely unsentimental.
What Lawrence could not bring himself to accept was the reasoning behind throwing away the profit they stood to share together in order to pursue the more realistic profits separately.
"Come, now. How many of us are traveling?" Holo's words were brief, but the question was very clear. Her amber eyes flicked in his direction.
"...Three of us."
"And what does the lad stand to gain from going to Yoitsu?"
Lawrence found himself momentarily dizzy at the question. "W-well...but..."

Output:
They were desolate words and not ones that had simply come to her from nowhere. Holo must have talked to Col about what was truly in his heart, while both Lawrence and Elsa were away.
Just as Lawrence knew that his own decisions affected many others in the world of commerce around him, Holo understood the effects her decisions had on her own small pack.
"It was back in Winfiel, perhaps. Ever since seeing that fool Huskins, he's been thinking about it, it seems."
"Huskins?"
"Aye. Thinking about what he ought to do for the sake of his own town. The pup remembered how he'd set that thinking aside, in order to give himself time to rest and heal."
Lawrence had been paying less attention than he realized, at least outside of the marketplace. Not only to Holo, it seemed, but also to Col.
Holo smiled a sad smile at Lawrence's expression of surprise. "I'm hardly one to talk, but your face tells me you never even noticed, did you?"
"Ugh...," Lawrence moaned and nodded. There was no point in trying to hide it.
"Honestly...And then there was this last adventure up in the snowy mountains. He saw how Fran lived, and it woke him from his slumber. She seemed ridiculous to a wisewolf like me, but her straightforward way of living must have been so refreshing to him. Huskins was so old that even his methods were gloomy, but then there was the girl Fran, as beautiful and sharp as ice."
It was unusual to hear Holo describe her that way. And yet a moment's thought on Holo's disposition made it seem entirely appropriate. How could Holo fail to admire someone who would go to such lengths? Who put everything they had at stake in order to reach their goal?
And as the thought came to him, Holo glared at him with displeasure in her eyes. "Hmph. And then along came that hardheaded girl."
A boy who wanted to study Church law, and a hardworking girl trying to ensure the continued existence of her church in a town that revered a pagan god. As a final blow, it could hardly be more decisive.
"And the Church in this town plays a role in this, too. For this was the first time he saw a grand cathedral. An organization powerful enough to build such a thing could surely protect his home, he realized," said Holo and finished with a small sigh.
Lawrence could understand why Col had never opened up to Holo, to whom he had become so attached. Holo, who was called the Wisewolf of Yoitsu, whose true form would without any doubt see her called a pagan god.
How could he possibly confess his feelings to Holo, of all people?
Just as Philon could not approach the Delink Company, and just as an apothecary cannot patronize a tavern, just as a scale maker could not be friends with a money changer, so too could Col not confide in Holo.
More than she was an elder sister figure to him, she was, by the slimmest of margins, a wisewolf.
Even though he had seen her true form and been unafraid, even though he had clung to her tail—no, because of those things—Col could never forget that Holo was a wisewolf.
And given all this, Lawrence, too, could understand why Holo had given up on his going to Yoitsu with her, and why, too, she had chosen to go to Kieschen.
They had to choose the most fruitful path: Rather than joint profit for two, separate profit for all three. As a reason for the three of them to make for Kieschen and end their travels as a trio, it was good and proper.
Holo had not chosen Kieschen as their place of parting, but rather as a place to begin a new journey.
"At the very least there's profit in it, and that dumpling head will go south, aye? She ought to take the lad with her. As much as her hardheadedness makes me ill, she's perfect for Col. Perhaps he'll even end up settling down in that village church of hers."
This last suggestion was of course a joke. But she did not suggest, even jokingly, that he ought to come with her.


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

Input:
They were desolate words and not ones that had simply come to her from nowhere. Holo must have talked to Col about what was truly in his heart, while both Lawrence and Elsa were away.
Just as Lawrence knew that his own decisions affected many others in the world of commerce around him, Holo understood the effects her decisions had on her own small pack.
"It was back in Winfiel, perhaps. Ever since seeing that fool Huskins, he's been thinking about it, it seems."
"Huskins?"
"Aye. Thinking about what he ought to do for the sake of his own town. The pup remembered how he'd set that thinking aside, in order to give himself time to rest and heal."
Lawrence had been paying less attention than he realized, at least outside of the marketplace. Not only to Holo, it seemed, but also to Col.
Holo smiled a sad smile at Lawrence's expression of surprise. "I'm hardly one to talk, but your face tells me you never even noticed, did you?"
"Ugh...," Lawrence moaned and nodded. There was no point in trying to hide it.
"Honestly...And then there was this last adventure up in the snowy mountains. He saw how Fran lived, and it woke him from his slumber. She seemed ridiculous to a wisewolf like me, but her straightforward way of living must have been so refreshing to him. Huskins was so old that even his methods were gloomy, but then there was the girl Fran, as beautiful and sharp as ice."
It was unusual to hear Holo describe her that way. And yet a moment's thought on Holo's disposition made it seem entirely appropriate. How could Holo fail to admire someone who would go to such lengths? Who put everything they had at stake in order to reach their goal?
And as the thought came to him, Holo glared at him with displeasure in her eyes. "Hmph. And then along came that hardheaded girl."
A boy who wanted to study Church law, and a hardworking girl trying to ensure the continued existence of her church in a town that revered a pagan god. As a final blow, it could hardly be more decisive.
"And the Church in this town plays a role in this, too. For this was the first time he saw a grand cathedral. An organization powerful enough to build such a thing could surely protect his home, he realized," said Holo and finished with a small sigh.
Lawrence could understand why Col had never opened up to Holo, to whom he had become so attached. Holo, who was called the Wisewolf of Yoitsu, whose true form would without any doubt see her called a pagan god.
How could he possibly confess his feelings to Holo, of all people?
Just as Philon could not approach the Delink Company, and just as an apothecary cannot patronize a tavern, just as a scale maker could not be friends with a money changer, so too could Col not confide in Holo.
More than she was an elder sister figure to him, she was, by the slimmest of margins, a wisewolf.
Even though he had seen her true form and been unafraid, even though he had clung to her tail—no, because of those things—Col could never forget that Holo was a wisewolf.
And given all this, Lawrence, too, could understand why Holo had given up on his going to Yoitsu with her, and why, too, she had chosen to go to Kieschen.
They had to choose the most fruitful path: Rather than joint profit for two, separate profit for all three. As a reason for the three of them to make for Kieschen and end their travels as a trio, it was good and proper.
Holo had not chosen Kieschen as their place of parting, but rather as a place to begin a new journey.
"At the very least there's profit in it, and that dumpling head will go south, aye? She ought to take the lad with her. As much as her hardheadedness makes me ill, she's perfect for Col. Perhaps he'll even end up settling down in that village church of hers."
This last suggestion was of course a joke. But she did not suggest, even jokingly, that he ought to come with her.

Output:
Holo had lived so long and witnessed so many lives that her words had more weight than any easily understood platitude could ever have had.
"We should live with smiles on our faces, I think. That way when we meet again, we'll be smiling."
To do that, one had to abide by reason and realism, without a moment of sentimentality.
"It's the same in business."
"Hm?"
"'Profit even from loss,' they say," said Lawrence.
"Ah," said Holo, impressed, and her face twisted in a smile made awkward by the frustration she surely felt.
He could not just let her do all the explaining, and he could not very well forget what he himself had said. They would cooperate with Holo's decision.
The narrow street became still narrower, and Lawrence let Holo walk in front of him.
From behind, her form seemed terribly small, and though she was close enough for him to reach out and touch, it felt as though she might disappear at any moment.
And in Kieschen, he would truly see her off.
It would be nice if they could meet again, smiling. It was not their final parting, not a deathbed good-bye, so there was nothing to fear. They would part ways the same way they had so many times before, over and over again.
Though he understood this in his head, the unease did not fade from his heart. If he were to let slip these worries, the wisewolf would surely either laugh or rage at him.
Lawrence put the question to himself: Was his trust in Holo insufficient? She was not a coldhearted girl. He was painfully aware of that much.
So what was it, then?
Lawrence watched Holo's small form ahead of him.
He wanted to embrace her with all his might, and never let go.
Even knowing how ridiculous that was, it seemed the only possible way to calm his worried heart.
The terrible self-loathing he felt was no figment of his imagination.
Lawrence took a deep, slow breath and exhaled it still more slowly.
***
The next morning, the four of them took breakfast together.
While it was quite normal for travelers to have a meal before setting out for the day, for Elsa it was a wild luxury.
As a compromise, they ate dark rye bread and a few beans. To slake their thirst, she permitted some watery wine.
"Now then, about what we'll do next," started Lawrence, and everyone's gaze focused on him, save Holo. "We'll make preparations today and tomorrow, and so leave the day after tomorrow at the earliest. Today, I'll first go to Mr. Philon's place and work some details out with him and Mr. Le Roi."
Col nodded to prove that he was listening, and Lawrence directed his next words to Elsa. "It would be good if you came along, too, Miss Elsa, and talked about your own plans for what's to come."
Elsa cut even the hard rye bread up, rather than tearing into it, and brought bites politely to her mouth without dropping a single crumb. She treated it as though it were some sort of ritual practice in the concentration of her mind, but amazingly, she had no trouble listening to the conversation around her as she did so. "Very well. I need to send a letter to the village as well, so I'll ask their help in that."
Lawrence nodded and turned to Holo, who, like a child, was tossing beans up one by one into the air and catching them in her mouth. "And what will you do?"
Holo had just tossed aloft another bean, and her fangs showed as she opened her mouth to catch it. Her gaze moved from the bean to Lawrence, but moments later, the bean still landed perfectly in her mouth. She chewed it up, crunching, and washed it down with the thinned wine. "So long as you don't mind me creating new legends about a giant wolf, I've nothing much else to do."
Now that she knew the direction and location, it would be safer and faster for Holo to travel as a wolf. There was no reason for her to go all the way over to Philon's to hear about the conditions on the human road.


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

Input:
Holo had lived so long and witnessed so many lives that her words had more weight than any easily understood platitude could ever have had.
"We should live with smiles on our faces, I think. That way when we meet again, we'll be smiling."
To do that, one had to abide by reason and realism, without a moment of sentimentality.
"It's the same in business."
"Hm?"
"'Profit even from loss,' they say," said Lawrence.
"Ah," said Holo, impressed, and her face twisted in a smile made awkward by the frustration she surely felt.
He could not just let her do all the explaining, and he could not very well forget what he himself had said. They would cooperate with Holo's decision.
The narrow street became still narrower, and Lawrence let Holo walk in front of him.
From behind, her form seemed terribly small, and though she was close enough for him to reach out and touch, it felt as though she might disappear at any moment.
And in Kieschen, he would truly see her off.
It would be nice if they could meet again, smiling. It was not their final parting, not a deathbed good-bye, so there was nothing to fear. They would part ways the same way they had so many times before, over and over again.
Though he understood this in his head, the unease did not fade from his heart. If he were to let slip these worries, the wisewolf would surely either laugh or rage at him.
Lawrence put the question to himself: Was his trust in Holo insufficient? She was not a coldhearted girl. He was painfully aware of that much.
So what was it, then?
Lawrence watched Holo's small form ahead of him.
He wanted to embrace her with all his might, and never let go.
Even knowing how ridiculous that was, it seemed the only possible way to calm his worried heart.
The terrible self-loathing he felt was no figment of his imagination.
Lawrence took a deep, slow breath and exhaled it still more slowly.
***
The next morning, the four of them took breakfast together.
While it was quite normal for travelers to have a meal before setting out for the day, for Elsa it was a wild luxury.
As a compromise, they ate dark rye bread and a few beans. To slake their thirst, she permitted some watery wine.
"Now then, about what we'll do next," started Lawrence, and everyone's gaze focused on him, save Holo. "We'll make preparations today and tomorrow, and so leave the day after tomorrow at the earliest. Today, I'll first go to Mr. Philon's place and work some details out with him and Mr. Le Roi."
Col nodded to prove that he was listening, and Lawrence directed his next words to Elsa. "It would be good if you came along, too, Miss Elsa, and talked about your own plans for what's to come."
Elsa cut even the hard rye bread up, rather than tearing into it, and brought bites politely to her mouth without dropping a single crumb. She treated it as though it were some sort of ritual practice in the concentration of her mind, but amazingly, she had no trouble listening to the conversation around her as she did so. "Very well. I need to send a letter to the village as well, so I'll ask their help in that."
Lawrence nodded and turned to Holo, who, like a child, was tossing beans up one by one into the air and catching them in her mouth. "And what will you do?"
Holo had just tossed aloft another bean, and her fangs showed as she opened her mouth to catch it. Her gaze moved from the bean to Lawrence, but moments later, the bean still landed perfectly in her mouth. She chewed it up, crunching, and washed it down with the thinned wine. "So long as you don't mind me creating new legends about a giant wolf, I've nothing much else to do."
Now that she knew the direction and location, it would be safer and faster for Holo to travel as a wolf. There was no reason for her to go all the way over to Philon's to hear about the conditions on the human road.

Output:
Lawrence sighed and looked over at the table, whereupon was neatly spread the map.
"Still, 'twould be boring to stay here alone."
"Then it's settled."
Thereafter, each of them finished their breakfast. Elsa cleared her throat and began to teach Col about some finer point of scripture, Holo tended to her tail grooming, and Lawrence decided he might as well trim his beard while he was in a town.
There would likely be trouble upon arriving in Kieschen and difficult preparations in the meantime.
In light of that, the quiet serenity of the water well in the inn's courtyard, lit by the morning sun, was a precious thing indeed. The far-off sounds of the busy town gave the quiet a different feeling than the silence of a forest or field.
Lawrence had loved this quiet when he had traveled alone and had come to appreciate it even more since that time had ended.
Would he be able to continue on like this? He smiled a self-reproaching smile at the thought. He would probably abide. He would have to—and anyway, as he told himself before, this was not their final parting.
His worry was purely of his own creation.
"...Well, then." He brushed his hands free of crumbs.
The day had begun.
Lawrence had assumed that a shop catering to mercenaries would be mostly idle in the morning, but he was mistaken.
While the mercenaries themselves were certainly snoring loudly away in their wagon beds, the men around them were hurriedly buying up supplies. By their aura and manner of speaking, Lawrence at first took them as musicians, but apparently they were merchants who had spent their entire lives running their shops on the world's battlefields. Their cheerful demeanor came from their having long ago lost any fear of death whatsoever.
"Today I've only got one more troop coming by. When things are bad, it'll be ten or twenty in a single day," said Philon, shamelessly draining the contents of a cup that had been left on the table.
When the merchants had left, it was terribly quiet, like a storm had passed through the shop.
"So, many mercenaries come through?" asked Lawrence, surprised, and the general store owner chuckled knowingly.
"The bills are always made out to some big lord somewhere. If you're well-known and have a lot of territory, you can turn a hefty profit buying in one place and selling it off elsewhere."
It seemed likely that Philon had taken advantage of the situation in Lenos and done some speculation himself, but Lawrence said nothing.
No matter who was making what profit, as long as things were moving, there was no problem.
"So, then, what can I do for my extended family here."
"The map from Miss Fran has arrived," said Lawrence, and Philon's face lit up with excitement that was obvious even in the dim shop.
"Oh, that's wonderful!"
He held out his hand in anticipation of Lawrence giving it to him. But Lawrence had very purposefully not brought it with him.
In the silence that fell over Philon's own, Holo chuckled.
"So about the Tolkien region."
"Ah, there's a nice place," said Philon, sitting in a chair he produced from somewhere and taking up a quill pen. "Bit large, though."
Even on the map, Yoitsu had only been one small part of Tolkien. But once she made it to the region, Holo's sense of smell would surely lead her the rest of the way.
"There was a little village there. Less a village, really, than a group of shelters for woodsmen and hunters to stay in."
"And the name?" It was Holo who asked.
Elsa and Col were gazing at the swords on the walls and the parchment bundles on the shelves with intense interest, respectively, but simultaneously looked over at Holo when she spoke.
"It didn't have a name. Isn't really the kind of place you give a name. Did someone tell you they were born in Tolkien?"
Yoitsu, Holo was about to reply, but after a moment's movement of her lips, she said nothing and merely nodded.


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

Input:
Lawrence sighed and looked over at the table, whereupon was neatly spread the map.
"Still, 'twould be boring to stay here alone."
"Then it's settled."
Thereafter, each of them finished their breakfast. Elsa cleared her throat and began to teach Col about some finer point of scripture, Holo tended to her tail grooming, and Lawrence decided he might as well trim his beard while he was in a town.
There would likely be trouble upon arriving in Kieschen and difficult preparations in the meantime.
In light of that, the quiet serenity of the water well in the inn's courtyard, lit by the morning sun, was a precious thing indeed. The far-off sounds of the busy town gave the quiet a different feeling than the silence of a forest or field.
Lawrence had loved this quiet when he had traveled alone and had come to appreciate it even more since that time had ended.
Would he be able to continue on like this? He smiled a self-reproaching smile at the thought. He would probably abide. He would have to—and anyway, as he told himself before, this was not their final parting.
His worry was purely of his own creation.
"...Well, then." He brushed his hands free of crumbs.
The day had begun.
Lawrence had assumed that a shop catering to mercenaries would be mostly idle in the morning, but he was mistaken.
While the mercenaries themselves were certainly snoring loudly away in their wagon beds, the men around them were hurriedly buying up supplies. By their aura and manner of speaking, Lawrence at first took them as musicians, but apparently they were merchants who had spent their entire lives running their shops on the world's battlefields. Their cheerful demeanor came from their having long ago lost any fear of death whatsoever.
"Today I've only got one more troop coming by. When things are bad, it'll be ten or twenty in a single day," said Philon, shamelessly draining the contents of a cup that had been left on the table.
When the merchants had left, it was terribly quiet, like a storm had passed through the shop.
"So, many mercenaries come through?" asked Lawrence, surprised, and the general store owner chuckled knowingly.
"The bills are always made out to some big lord somewhere. If you're well-known and have a lot of territory, you can turn a hefty profit buying in one place and selling it off elsewhere."
It seemed likely that Philon had taken advantage of the situation in Lenos and done some speculation himself, but Lawrence said nothing.
No matter who was making what profit, as long as things were moving, there was no problem.
"So, then, what can I do for my extended family here."
"The map from Miss Fran has arrived," said Lawrence, and Philon's face lit up with excitement that was obvious even in the dim shop.
"Oh, that's wonderful!"
He held out his hand in anticipation of Lawrence giving it to him. But Lawrence had very purposefully not brought it with him.
In the silence that fell over Philon's own, Holo chuckled.
"So about the Tolkien region."
"Ah, there's a nice place," said Philon, sitting in a chair he produced from somewhere and taking up a quill pen. "Bit large, though."
Even on the map, Yoitsu had only been one small part of Tolkien. But once she made it to the region, Holo's sense of smell would surely lead her the rest of the way.
"There was a little village there. Less a village, really, than a group of shelters for woodsmen and hunters to stay in."
"And the name?" It was Holo who asked.
Elsa and Col were gazing at the swords on the walls and the parchment bundles on the shelves with intense interest, respectively, but simultaneously looked over at Holo when she spoke.
"It didn't have a name. Isn't really the kind of place you give a name. Did someone tell you they were born in Tolkien?"
Yoitsu, Holo was about to reply, but after a moment's movement of her lips, she said nothing and merely nodded.

Output:
Philon's tone was light, as though trying to emphasize that it was not worth thinking too deeply over.
But far from relaxing, Holo's face became even sharper. "Are the forests and mountains there yet bountiful?" She spoke slowly and distinctly, as though emphasizing each word.
Philon tapped his quill pen in his opened ledger, then rested his chin in his palm and regarded Holo. "Absurdly so. The word is that the deer are huge."
"And wolves?"
"Wolves?"
Holo looked intently at Philon. The silence that followed was unnerving for those who knew her true form.
Philon suddenly looked up to the ceiling, drawing Lawrence's gaze with it. "The area's thick with fierce wolves."
Holo drew a long breath, and her small body grew larger with it.
If Lawrence had dared to point out that she seemed about to cry, she would have surely denied it with fangs bared.
"Many of the mercenaries imagine themselves to be descended from wolves. And if you did have an ancestor among the wolves of Tolkien, I'm sure it would make you braver on the battlefield."
If a human was the child of something other than a human, it had to be God. Thus was the teaching that the Church spread, and even though Elsa was right there, Philon was speaking of such things as if they were common knowledge.
Elsa made no indication of any concern.
A man who made it his business to trade with mercenaries would have a keen grasp of what different sorts of people held dear.
"Are you...?" began Philon, but then suddenly stopped. If she was born in the north, but had come from the south, with her birthplace unknown, then the chance that the secret of her birth was a happy one was exceedingly low. He must have realized that.
"In any case, you're headed to Kieschen, yes? Or will some of you remain here or maybe make for Tolkien?"
"We plan to go to Kieschen. Would you tell us the way to Tolkien from there? Unless you think we'd be better served by asking once we arrive in Kieschen."
Philon waved his hand to suggest that would not be necessary. He then closed his eyes, scratched his chin with his quill pen, and spoke. "Between Kieschen and the Tolkien region there's a path called the fur road. It's a common enough name, but it's the most important and profitable path for the fur trade in the area. It ought to be passable so long as it's not snowed in. On the way, you'll probably run into the territory of the Bruner mercenary band. I'll write you an introduction letter. If anything happens, you'll never find a more reliable band."
There was no way to tell whether Philon suddenly had sympathy for Holo's birth circumstances or was trying to butter Lawrence up in order to get a look at Fran's map. It was probably both, but there was no reason to refuse such a letter.
"My thanks," said Lawrence, since Holo seemed at a loss for words.
What had been merely old memories and tales had accumulated and finally become a map. Now that it had a form, the rest was so simple.
The path to Yoitsu was becoming clearer and clearer.
Lawrence patted Holo's back the way he would if she had had a bite of food stuck in her throat.
"And the two there? One was from Pinu, as I recall." Philon pointed at Elsa and Col with his quill pen.
Col was completely incoherent, but Elsa was not the least concerned. "No, I have business with Le Roi," she said in a cold and unwavering tone, straightening her posture.
Philon blinked in surprise, then made a great show of clearing his throat before speaking again. "I'm quite confident that anything he can do, I can do as well."
"Is that so? In that case, I'd like to send a letter."
Philon seemed rather taken aback by Elsa's lack of either surprise or levity. But he managed a feeble "Ah, certainly," at which Elsa finally smiled, a bit at a loss herself.
It seemed she had mastered an entirely different way of controlling men than Holo had. It was hard to say which was better.
"I've pen and paper. If you can't write, I'm happy to take your dictation."


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

Input:
Philon's tone was light, as though trying to emphasize that it was not worth thinking too deeply over.
But far from relaxing, Holo's face became even sharper. "Are the forests and mountains there yet bountiful?" She spoke slowly and distinctly, as though emphasizing each word.
Philon tapped his quill pen in his opened ledger, then rested his chin in his palm and regarded Holo. "Absurdly so. The word is that the deer are huge."
"And wolves?"
"Wolves?"
Holo looked intently at Philon. The silence that followed was unnerving for those who knew her true form.
Philon suddenly looked up to the ceiling, drawing Lawrence's gaze with it. "The area's thick with fierce wolves."
Holo drew a long breath, and her small body grew larger with it.
If Lawrence had dared to point out that she seemed about to cry, she would have surely denied it with fangs bared.
"Many of the mercenaries imagine themselves to be descended from wolves. And if you did have an ancestor among the wolves of Tolkien, I'm sure it would make you braver on the battlefield."
If a human was the child of something other than a human, it had to be God. Thus was the teaching that the Church spread, and even though Elsa was right there, Philon was speaking of such things as if they were common knowledge.
Elsa made no indication of any concern.
A man who made it his business to trade with mercenaries would have a keen grasp of what different sorts of people held dear.
"Are you...?" began Philon, but then suddenly stopped. If she was born in the north, but had come from the south, with her birthplace unknown, then the chance that the secret of her birth was a happy one was exceedingly low. He must have realized that.
"In any case, you're headed to Kieschen, yes? Or will some of you remain here or maybe make for Tolkien?"
"We plan to go to Kieschen. Would you tell us the way to Tolkien from there? Unless you think we'd be better served by asking once we arrive in Kieschen."
Philon waved his hand to suggest that would not be necessary. He then closed his eyes, scratched his chin with his quill pen, and spoke. "Between Kieschen and the Tolkien region there's a path called the fur road. It's a common enough name, but it's the most important and profitable path for the fur trade in the area. It ought to be passable so long as it's not snowed in. On the way, you'll probably run into the territory of the Bruner mercenary band. I'll write you an introduction letter. If anything happens, you'll never find a more reliable band."
There was no way to tell whether Philon suddenly had sympathy for Holo's birth circumstances or was trying to butter Lawrence up in order to get a look at Fran's map. It was probably both, but there was no reason to refuse such a letter.
"My thanks," said Lawrence, since Holo seemed at a loss for words.
What had been merely old memories and tales had accumulated and finally become a map. Now that it had a form, the rest was so simple.
The path to Yoitsu was becoming clearer and clearer.
Lawrence patted Holo's back the way he would if she had had a bite of food stuck in her throat.
"And the two there? One was from Pinu, as I recall." Philon pointed at Elsa and Col with his quill pen.
Col was completely incoherent, but Elsa was not the least concerned. "No, I have business with Le Roi," she said in a cold and unwavering tone, straightening her posture.
Philon blinked in surprise, then made a great show of clearing his throat before speaking again. "I'm quite confident that anything he can do, I can do as well."
"Is that so? In that case, I'd like to send a letter."
Philon seemed rather taken aback by Elsa's lack of either surprise or levity. But he managed a feeble "Ah, certainly," at which Elsa finally smiled, a bit at a loss herself.
It seemed she had mastered an entirely different way of controlling men than Holo had. It was hard to say which was better.
"I've pen and paper. If you can't write, I'm happy to take your dictation."

Output:
Philon again thrust his chest out in the face of her straightforward admission. Yet he could not back out now. "I'll send the bill for the paper to Le Roi. That's no problem at all."
Elsa looked evenly at Philon for a few moments. Then she gave a slow smile and said, "If you please."
Philon feigned ignorance at Le Roi, who was running around making preparations for the journey. In fact, on the other side of the ceiling sat a mountain of goods, but he had not the slightest intention of parting with any of them.
While Elsa wrote her letter, Philon began tending to his own work, so Lawrence and the rest left the shop to bask in the sun.
There were still many people walking by, and it was certainly never boring.
"Once you find something, everything else becomes so clear," said Lawrence.
Perhaps Col was being considerate of the two, since he crossed the street to peer into a cobbler's workshop. He was about the age to be handling minor tasks in a workshop or trading company, after all.
Just a moment earlier the master of the shop had returned and smacked him on the head, evidently mistaking him for a lazy apprentice before Col had hastily pointed to Lawrence and Holo.
"Aye, now that we know our destination...all that's left is to point ourselves there and put one foot in front of the other."
They watched Col sit on the stone steps and relax, propping his elbows on his knees. He seemed sleepy, probably because the rays of the sun were warm.
"Simple and clear," said Lawrence.
Holo closed her eyes and chuckled through her nose. "Mm. Nothing to hesitate over."
Her clear profile was as smoothed as the just-shelled white of a boiled egg. All the problems and troubles that had tangled up with one another in her mind seemed to have been swept away, leaving it clean.
It seemed Lawrence really was the only one worried about the business of whether or not they would go to Yoitsu together.
He sighed a tired sigh to hide his frustration, then straightened and stretched. "Still, relaxing in town like this makes one reluctant to start traveling again," he said, looking up and squinting. Holo, too, looked up, opening one eye just slightly and glancing aside at Lawrence.
"With that reasoning, I'd have to give it serious thought."
It was too much trouble to quarrel, so Lawrence shrugged and ignored her baiting.
A goodly amount of time had passed when Elsa finished writing her letter. As logical as she was when speaking, when it came time to collect her thoughts on paper, she evidently found it much more difficult. She had ink on her face and hands, and she seemed somewhat hollowed out by the task.
"...Where did they go?"
"I gave them a few coppers and they went off to the docks. Would you like to go as well, Miss Elsa?"
Elsa shook her head wordlessly.
When Lawrence thought about it, he realized that having lived in such a small village, she had probably never had much cause to put her thoughts into written words. Just figuring out how to address Evan had probably taken a good amount of time.
Lawrence considered this as his gaze swept the room.
"Where did Mr. Philon go?" Elsa asked.
"No idea. I seem to remember him standing up from the table, but..."
Lawrence looked and saw that the door to the courtyard was partially open, and some of the light from outside was doing its best to enter the gloomy workshop. Even if Elsa was a clergy-woman, it was careless of Philon to leave the shop open with a stranger inside.
Or perhaps there was simply nothing to steal. The ultimate merchant could run a shop on nothing but credit. And with nothing but credit, there would be nothing to steal.
"Seems like we ought not to leave, then," said Lawrence.
"...Yes, that's true. But, er..."
"Yes?" Lawrence asked, at which Elsa's face suddenly looked utterly exhausted. Her tone turned apologetic.
"Might I go outside to take some fresh air?"


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

Input:
Philon again thrust his chest out in the face of her straightforward admission. Yet he could not back out now. "I'll send the bill for the paper to Le Roi. That's no problem at all."
Elsa looked evenly at Philon for a few moments. Then she gave a slow smile and said, "If you please."
Philon feigned ignorance at Le Roi, who was running around making preparations for the journey. In fact, on the other side of the ceiling sat a mountain of goods, but he had not the slightest intention of parting with any of them.
While Elsa wrote her letter, Philon began tending to his own work, so Lawrence and the rest left the shop to bask in the sun.
There were still many people walking by, and it was certainly never boring.
"Once you find something, everything else becomes so clear," said Lawrence.
Perhaps Col was being considerate of the two, since he crossed the street to peer into a cobbler's workshop. He was about the age to be handling minor tasks in a workshop or trading company, after all.
Just a moment earlier the master of the shop had returned and smacked him on the head, evidently mistaking him for a lazy apprentice before Col had hastily pointed to Lawrence and Holo.
"Aye, now that we know our destination...all that's left is to point ourselves there and put one foot in front of the other."
They watched Col sit on the stone steps and relax, propping his elbows on his knees. He seemed sleepy, probably because the rays of the sun were warm.
"Simple and clear," said Lawrence.
Holo closed her eyes and chuckled through her nose. "Mm. Nothing to hesitate over."
Her clear profile was as smoothed as the just-shelled white of a boiled egg. All the problems and troubles that had tangled up with one another in her mind seemed to have been swept away, leaving it clean.
It seemed Lawrence really was the only one worried about the business of whether or not they would go to Yoitsu together.
He sighed a tired sigh to hide his frustration, then straightened and stretched. "Still, relaxing in town like this makes one reluctant to start traveling again," he said, looking up and squinting. Holo, too, looked up, opening one eye just slightly and glancing aside at Lawrence.
"With that reasoning, I'd have to give it serious thought."
It was too much trouble to quarrel, so Lawrence shrugged and ignored her baiting.
A goodly amount of time had passed when Elsa finished writing her letter. As logical as she was when speaking, when it came time to collect her thoughts on paper, she evidently found it much more difficult. She had ink on her face and hands, and she seemed somewhat hollowed out by the task.
"...Where did they go?"
"I gave them a few coppers and they went off to the docks. Would you like to go as well, Miss Elsa?"
Elsa shook her head wordlessly.
When Lawrence thought about it, he realized that having lived in such a small village, she had probably never had much cause to put her thoughts into written words. Just figuring out how to address Evan had probably taken a good amount of time.
Lawrence considered this as his gaze swept the room.
"Where did Mr. Philon go?" Elsa asked.
"No idea. I seem to remember him standing up from the table, but..."
Lawrence looked and saw that the door to the courtyard was partially open, and some of the light from outside was doing its best to enter the gloomy workshop. Even if Elsa was a clergy-woman, it was careless of Philon to leave the shop open with a stranger inside.
Or perhaps there was simply nothing to steal. The ultimate merchant could run a shop on nothing but credit. And with nothing but credit, there would be nothing to steal.
"Seems like we ought not to leave, then," said Lawrence.
"...Yes, that's true. But, er..."
"Yes?" Lawrence asked, at which Elsa's face suddenly looked utterly exhausted. Her tone turned apologetic.
"Might I go outside to take some fresh air?"

Output:
It was not small, but neither was it spacious. There was little in the way of decoration, but no space was wasted. The table, chairs, and shelves were purely functional, and there were exactly as many of each as was necessary. It was well cleaned, but not ostentatiously polished. Nowhere was there too much of anything, nor too little. It was a very relaxed space.
Lawrence took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled through his mouth.
The shop was quiet. Ideal for relaxing in.
Although if such a shop were his, he would need to add a window, Lawrence mused. There would need to be a sunlit place for Holo to groom her tail, after all. As he thought more on it, Lawrence waved his hand to clear his mind of the daydream. They were becoming more frequent as the days passed, and more specific, too.
There was not anything wrong with that, per se, but it was something he had to hide so long as he traveled with Holo.
Even if she had not been a wisewolf, he had to shut away the words deep in his heart: Let's open a shop together.
"Kieschen, eh?" he murmured with a smile. If Holo was not going to keep the promise, then Lawrence had no right to object. The resolve was hers; everyone else was merely cooperation. He would do everything he could to help her.
Lawrence had never traveled to Kieschen, but he had heard of the place. It was a well-to-do town situated atop a hill among the rolling plains. He had heard the town was filled with greenery. There were even some who spoke of it as though it were a town swallowed by forest. It would surely be a good place to show Holo and Col.
As far as Elsa went, she had been born in a village with an excellent view, so she might find Kieschen rather confining.
In any case, it seemed like a nice place, which was a relief. And being relatively close to the capital city of Endima, the wine and food ought to be good.
It would be a good place for good-byes.
Lawrence rested his cheek in his hand and spoke the words aloud. "A good place for good-byes."
He was normally stubborn, but he wondered if that wasn't part of his charm.
Why had Holo so easily given up on their promise? Or was the idea of ending their wonderful travels in sight of Yoitsu just too ridiculously sentimental, just as she said? Or was Lawrence the only one who thought so much of what the other was thinking?
In his memories, Holo smiled. The smile was directed at someone he did not know. It was an unfair, reactionary thought. And then—
"Oh, has the holy sister finished her writing?" Philon entered the shop, pushing the half-open door from the courtyard all the way open.
"She seemed to be having quite a bit of trouble with it."
"Hah. That's not such a bad thing." He spoke so plainly that Lawrence found himself staring at Philon, finding him quite a mystery. This man who dealt with mercenaries wore a boyishly mischievous expression.
"I can't imagine there are many happy people who are well accustomed to writing letters to their loved ones. Wouldn't you say?"
These were the words of a man who was living his life with his eyes open. Lawrence smiled to hide his vexation, then sighed. "True enough. You want to be close to the people you love."
Philon nodded, satisfied, and sat himself down in a chair. On the table was the letter that Elsa had written; Philon picked it up and looked it over. He was not reading it, it seemed, but rather checking to see if the ink had dried.
"So, I couldn't help but be a little interested," began Philon, as he folded the letter up. He spoke as though he had been having a conversation with Lawrence about something in particular, right up until that moment.
Lawrence was briefly confused. He flipped back through his memory, trying to guess at what Philon was talking about, but Philon himself cut Lawrence's musing short.
"So I went and talked to the Delink Company myself."


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

Input:
It was not small, but neither was it spacious. There was little in the way of decoration, but no space was wasted. The table, chairs, and shelves were purely functional, and there were exactly as many of each as was necessary. It was well cleaned, but not ostentatiously polished. Nowhere was there too much of anything, nor too little. It was a very relaxed space.
Lawrence took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled through his mouth.
The shop was quiet. Ideal for relaxing in.
Although if such a shop were his, he would need to add a window, Lawrence mused. There would need to be a sunlit place for Holo to groom her tail, after all. As he thought more on it, Lawrence waved his hand to clear his mind of the daydream. They were becoming more frequent as the days passed, and more specific, too.
There was not anything wrong with that, per se, but it was something he had to hide so long as he traveled with Holo.
Even if she had not been a wisewolf, he had to shut away the words deep in his heart: Let's open a shop together.
"Kieschen, eh?" he murmured with a smile. If Holo was not going to keep the promise, then Lawrence had no right to object. The resolve was hers; everyone else was merely cooperation. He would do everything he could to help her.
Lawrence had never traveled to Kieschen, but he had heard of the place. It was a well-to-do town situated atop a hill among the rolling plains. He had heard the town was filled with greenery. There were even some who spoke of it as though it were a town swallowed by forest. It would surely be a good place to show Holo and Col.
As far as Elsa went, she had been born in a village with an excellent view, so she might find Kieschen rather confining.
In any case, it seemed like a nice place, which was a relief. And being relatively close to the capital city of Endima, the wine and food ought to be good.
It would be a good place for good-byes.
Lawrence rested his cheek in his hand and spoke the words aloud. "A good place for good-byes."
He was normally stubborn, but he wondered if that wasn't part of his charm.
Why had Holo so easily given up on their promise? Or was the idea of ending their wonderful travels in sight of Yoitsu just too ridiculously sentimental, just as she said? Or was Lawrence the only one who thought so much of what the other was thinking?
In his memories, Holo smiled. The smile was directed at someone he did not know. It was an unfair, reactionary thought. And then—
"Oh, has the holy sister finished her writing?" Philon entered the shop, pushing the half-open door from the courtyard all the way open.
"She seemed to be having quite a bit of trouble with it."
"Hah. That's not such a bad thing." He spoke so plainly that Lawrence found himself staring at Philon, finding him quite a mystery. This man who dealt with mercenaries wore a boyishly mischievous expression.
"I can't imagine there are many happy people who are well accustomed to writing letters to their loved ones. Wouldn't you say?"
These were the words of a man who was living his life with his eyes open. Lawrence smiled to hide his vexation, then sighed. "True enough. You want to be close to the people you love."
Philon nodded, satisfied, and sat himself down in a chair. On the table was the letter that Elsa had written; Philon picked it up and looked it over. He was not reading it, it seemed, but rather checking to see if the ink had dried.
"So, I couldn't help but be a little interested," began Philon, as he folded the letter up. He spoke as though he had been having a conversation with Lawrence about something in particular, right up until that moment.
Lawrence was briefly confused. He flipped back through his memory, trying to guess at what Philon was talking about, but Philon himself cut Lawrence's musing short.
"So I went and talked to the Delink Company myself."

Output:
"Anyhow, it turns out I got a hit."
"...A hit?"
It was a strange word to use—it implied a sort of good fortune, but depending on the context, the meaning could change quite dramatically.
A glance at Philon's face revealed that whatever it was, it was no good.
"My company supplies mercenary troops, and I act as a sort of agent for them at times as well. The Delink Company is the opposite. There was nothing in my ledger about any mercenaries heading for Tolkien, so I thought there might be in theirs."
He fingered the letter pointlessly.
"Even if a troop winds up taking prisoners of war, depending on where it happens, they'll be turned away at the gates. So when there's a rumor of war, they'll talk to companies ahead of time."
"Meaning?" Lawrence replied, worried.
It might have been that Philon had been testing whether Lawrence would turn worried or not. His eyes were full of sympathy. "Meaning that in all likelihood, there's going to be a battle for control of the Tolkien region."
Philon had come right out and said it in this moment because he was worried there would not be another chance, no doubt. If he was a considerate man, he would not have desired to deliver such news in front of a girl like Holo. Lawrence was the same way, so there was nothing to smile about.
But now that he knew, that meant he would have to be the one to tell Holo.
Unfairly, he wanted to quarrel with Philon on those grounds alone.
"But I have no idea what the goal is. It's just thick forests and endless mountain steppe. There are barely any villages worth naming. Or maybe they're thinking that's the perfect place to source slaves. Or else..." Philon's gaze was far away. "They've struck a lode of ore."
He had told Holo that the mountains and forests of Tolkien were bountiful. Given that, and given the prospect itself that Le Roi had convinced Lawrence to aid him with, anyone could have guessed what they were most concerned with.
A bitter taste filled Lawrence's mouth, but still—it was only one possibility.
Philon seemed to be thinking the same thing.
"Of course, I might be overthinking things. All the Delink Company said was that they'd received word from a mercenary troop that they might be bringing prisoners down from Tolkien."
If a rich lode had really been discovered, the scale of operations would expand considerably. There would certainly be at least one mercenary troop willing to venture forth to a remote location to fight for nothing but money. That was the simple fact of it.
Somebody would be unlucky, of course, but Lawrence was honestly relieved.
He did not think about whether or not that went against the teachings of God.
Holo would be going to Yoitsu alone.
He wanted her to encounter as little difficulty as possible.
A masochistic smile rose to his face at his own selfishness. Then:
"Come to think of it, I think the mercenary troop in question has a wolf on its standard."
"A wolf?"
Philon nodded and tapped at his temple with his finger. "It had a rather strange name. It's not a big troop, but it's been around for a long time. What was it...?" He took a moment to dust off the memories before the right one fell from his lips. "The Myuri mercenary band."
Holo had had friends in her homeland. Lawrence had not forgotten their names: Yue, Inti, Paro—strange names, like ciphers for something. And then there was the last name that Holo had murmured: "Myuri."
"They're a small band, but I've heard they're well disciplined. Their leader's especially clever, it's said. I've never supplied them, though, so I only know the name."
Lawrence breathed in slowly as Philon explained, and when it was finished, he exhaled a long breath.
It was said that over the countless months and years, the fanged ones had dedicated themselves to battle, but finally lost, and become part of the earth. Many died during the battle with the Moon-Hunting Bear, and the rest died fighting humans in the aftermath. This was the story that Hugues had told them in Kerube.


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

Input:
"Anyhow, it turns out I got a hit."
"...A hit?"
It was a strange word to use—it implied a sort of good fortune, but depending on the context, the meaning could change quite dramatically.
A glance at Philon's face revealed that whatever it was, it was no good.
"My company supplies mercenary troops, and I act as a sort of agent for them at times as well. The Delink Company is the opposite. There was nothing in my ledger about any mercenaries heading for Tolkien, so I thought there might be in theirs."
He fingered the letter pointlessly.
"Even if a troop winds up taking prisoners of war, depending on where it happens, they'll be turned away at the gates. So when there's a rumor of war, they'll talk to companies ahead of time."
"Meaning?" Lawrence replied, worried.
It might have been that Philon had been testing whether Lawrence would turn worried or not. His eyes were full of sympathy. "Meaning that in all likelihood, there's going to be a battle for control of the Tolkien region."
Philon had come right out and said it in this moment because he was worried there would not be another chance, no doubt. If he was a considerate man, he would not have desired to deliver such news in front of a girl like Holo. Lawrence was the same way, so there was nothing to smile about.
But now that he knew, that meant he would have to be the one to tell Holo.
Unfairly, he wanted to quarrel with Philon on those grounds alone.
"But I have no idea what the goal is. It's just thick forests and endless mountain steppe. There are barely any villages worth naming. Or maybe they're thinking that's the perfect place to source slaves. Or else..." Philon's gaze was far away. "They've struck a lode of ore."
He had told Holo that the mountains and forests of Tolkien were bountiful. Given that, and given the prospect itself that Le Roi had convinced Lawrence to aid him with, anyone could have guessed what they were most concerned with.
A bitter taste filled Lawrence's mouth, but still—it was only one possibility.
Philon seemed to be thinking the same thing.
"Of course, I might be overthinking things. All the Delink Company said was that they'd received word from a mercenary troop that they might be bringing prisoners down from Tolkien."
If a rich lode had really been discovered, the scale of operations would expand considerably. There would certainly be at least one mercenary troop willing to venture forth to a remote location to fight for nothing but money. That was the simple fact of it.
Somebody would be unlucky, of course, but Lawrence was honestly relieved.
He did not think about whether or not that went against the teachings of God.
Holo would be going to Yoitsu alone.
He wanted her to encounter as little difficulty as possible.
A masochistic smile rose to his face at his own selfishness. Then:
"Come to think of it, I think the mercenary troop in question has a wolf on its standard."
"A wolf?"
Philon nodded and tapped at his temple with his finger. "It had a rather strange name. It's not a big troop, but it's been around for a long time. What was it...?" He took a moment to dust off the memories before the right one fell from his lips. "The Myuri mercenary band."
Holo had had friends in her homeland. Lawrence had not forgotten their names: Yue, Inti, Paro—strange names, like ciphers for something. And then there was the last name that Holo had murmured: "Myuri."
"They're a small band, but I've heard they're well disciplined. Their leader's especially clever, it's said. I've never supplied them, though, so I only know the name."
Lawrence breathed in slowly as Philon explained, and when it was finished, he exhaled a long breath.
It was said that over the countless months and years, the fanged ones had dedicated themselves to battle, but finally lost, and become part of the earth. Many died during the battle with the Moon-Hunting Bear, and the rest died fighting humans in the aftermath. This was the story that Hugues had told them in Kerube.

Output:
But now, as though fate were not such a cruel god after all, it seemed the wolves of Yoitsu had not been so weak.
A mercenary band flying the standard of the wolf, calling themselves Myuri and making camp near Yoitsu—this could not be mere coincidence. The simplest explanation was that Holo's friend Myuri was still alive and, having heard of the Debau Company's schemes, gone to occupy the homeland.
Lawrence could not imagine better news.
"Anyway, I thought this might worry your companion. Shall I try to find more information?"
Lawrence shook his head.
The Myuri mercenaries were encamped in the region of Yoitsu. Just informing Holo of that simple fact would be more than enough. He could so easily imagine her face, at a loss for words out of sheer happiness.
Being the bearer of good tidings was always a popular job. Lawrence wanted to tell her as soon as he possibly could. And yet, he realized that just as much, he did not want to tell her at all.
Because upon hearing of Myuri, Holo would surely be overjoyed. She would suppress her desire to go and see for a time, and go with him to Kieschen. But after she left Lawrence and company, she would cast her human form aside and immediately make for Yoitsu.
Lawrence would have to watch her go. He would have to imagine her reunion with them from afar, alone in the driver's seat of his wagon. There was no way he would be present for the moment.
Once she had reunited with Myuri and had that moment of joy, would she talk about all the things she had done, the time she had been saved by a human? If Myuri did not hate humans, would Myuri be glad to hear the tale?
Lawrence did not want to imagine what would happen next:
Mercenary bands never named themselves after women.
Even if Holo and Myuri had not been lovers, he was still a wolf from her homeland, one whom she had thought long dead.
Before the two giant wolves there would be his insignificant, copper-pinching self, and it was obvious to Lawrence how ridiculous he would feel. That was no place for him. He was not optimistic enough to think so.
He wanted to raise his arms and shout, Huzzah! At least the journey had been fun.
He could only smile at that.
So Lawrence did smile, and spoke.
"The world does not always go as one would wish."
Philon fixed Lawrence in his gaze. "You're right about that," he murmured with a sigh.
Perhaps the outside air had helped ease Elsa's fatigue, for when she returned to the shop, her usual dignified air had returned. She was not the type to eavesdrop, so she had undoubtedly not heard Philon and Lawrence's conversation. But she still seemed to sense the subtly changed atmosphere of the shop.
She looked at Lawrence with questioning eyes, but Lawrence pretended not to notice. A confession like that was not something given easily.
But if there was an answer to the question as to when to tell Holo about Myuri, asking God might not be such a bad idea, he thought.
If he told Holo as soon as she returned, her mind would surely be filled with thoughts of him. And even if it was not, it would certainly be a source of unease for her.
After all, Holo herself had said she would go with them to Kieschen, and there part ways. She could not very well just head off on her own for Yoitsu just because she learned about the Myuri mercenaries.
No—Kieschen would be the place to tell her, when they were about to part, Lawrence thought.
He really did not have much time left with her.
As shameful as he found his selfish thoughts, he wanted her attention to be on the travel that still lay before them.
The problem was whether he could hide that from Holo. It was probably impossible.
But when he considered the question of whether or not she would try to pry it out of him when she noticed he was hiding something, the answer seemed to be in the negative. Regardless of how she had been in the past, the Holo of right now might well notice him hiding something, but she would keep silent.


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

Input:
But now, as though fate were not such a cruel god after all, it seemed the wolves of Yoitsu had not been so weak.
A mercenary band flying the standard of the wolf, calling themselves Myuri and making camp near Yoitsu—this could not be mere coincidence. The simplest explanation was that Holo's friend Myuri was still alive and, having heard of the Debau Company's schemes, gone to occupy the homeland.
Lawrence could not imagine better news.
"Anyway, I thought this might worry your companion. Shall I try to find more information?"
Lawrence shook his head.
The Myuri mercenaries were encamped in the region of Yoitsu. Just informing Holo of that simple fact would be more than enough. He could so easily imagine her face, at a loss for words out of sheer happiness.
Being the bearer of good tidings was always a popular job. Lawrence wanted to tell her as soon as he possibly could. And yet, he realized that just as much, he did not want to tell her at all.
Because upon hearing of Myuri, Holo would surely be overjoyed. She would suppress her desire to go and see for a time, and go with him to Kieschen. But after she left Lawrence and company, she would cast her human form aside and immediately make for Yoitsu.
Lawrence would have to watch her go. He would have to imagine her reunion with them from afar, alone in the driver's seat of his wagon. There was no way he would be present for the moment.
Once she had reunited with Myuri and had that moment of joy, would she talk about all the things she had done, the time she had been saved by a human? If Myuri did not hate humans, would Myuri be glad to hear the tale?
Lawrence did not want to imagine what would happen next:
Mercenary bands never named themselves after women.
Even if Holo and Myuri had not been lovers, he was still a wolf from her homeland, one whom she had thought long dead.
Before the two giant wolves there would be his insignificant, copper-pinching self, and it was obvious to Lawrence how ridiculous he would feel. That was no place for him. He was not optimistic enough to think so.
He wanted to raise his arms and shout, Huzzah! At least the journey had been fun.
He could only smile at that.
So Lawrence did smile, and spoke.
"The world does not always go as one would wish."
Philon fixed Lawrence in his gaze. "You're right about that," he murmured with a sigh.
Perhaps the outside air had helped ease Elsa's fatigue, for when she returned to the shop, her usual dignified air had returned. She was not the type to eavesdrop, so she had undoubtedly not heard Philon and Lawrence's conversation. But she still seemed to sense the subtly changed atmosphere of the shop.
She looked at Lawrence with questioning eyes, but Lawrence pretended not to notice. A confession like that was not something given easily.
But if there was an answer to the question as to when to tell Holo about Myuri, asking God might not be such a bad idea, he thought.
If he told Holo as soon as she returned, her mind would surely be filled with thoughts of him. And even if it was not, it would certainly be a source of unease for her.
After all, Holo herself had said she would go with them to Kieschen, and there part ways. She could not very well just head off on her own for Yoitsu just because she learned about the Myuri mercenaries.
No—Kieschen would be the place to tell her, when they were about to part, Lawrence thought.
He really did not have much time left with her.
As shameful as he found his selfish thoughts, he wanted her attention to be on the travel that still lay before them.
The problem was whether he could hide that from Holo. It was probably impossible.
But when he considered the question of whether or not she would try to pry it out of him when she noticed he was hiding something, the answer seemed to be in the negative. Regardless of how she had been in the past, the Holo of right now might well notice him hiding something, but she would keep silent.

Output:
As any merchant would, Lawrence was making the most effective, profitable plan he could. It seemed sincerely loving someone made one's thinking faster, but turned it in the most ridiculous directions.
It had been an interesting experience, but it might be well to have this be the last, Lawrence mused, and it was as he smiled a self-reproaching smile and heaved a heavy sigh that the party returned.
"Come, we've brought gifts!" came the loud, cheerful words as the door opened with a slam.
Those within the shop had become used to the quiet, so the shock was all the more jarring.
In the brief moment of time it took to look up and wonder what the matter was, Col followed Holo in and set a shallow bucket filled with water on the floor. His breathing was ragged, and he sat down on the floor right there on the spot, exhausted.
The bucket had obviously been heavy for Col's small frame, and, ignoring Lawrence's sympathy for the lad, Holo stood there, her chest thrown out proudly.
"Look, we've found today's lunch!" said Holo, whose cheeks were also red and shiny with sweat.
Lawrence approached, wondering what it could be, when his nose was assaulted by a pungent smell. Its source was soon very clear.
Within Col's bucket swam a number of dark eels.
"Magnificent, aren't they? We were wandering around the docks when we came upon some fool who'd tipped over a great barrel. Inside were all these eels, and they were scattered around like windblown soot!"
The exhausted Col was unable to get to his feet, so Elsa, worried, crouched down beside him to check on him. Meanwhile, Holo smiled triumphantly.
She smelled bad, and her sleeves were damp.
"Don't tell me you stole these."
"Fool! We were asked to help catch them, and this is our reward! I was the best at catching them. Wasn't I?"
Prodded by Holo's question, Col smiled a weak smile.
Philon came over as well and peered inside the bucket. They were fine eels, big and fat.
"Well...still, you ought to change your clothes," said Lawrence.
"Mm? Oh, aye. I am a bit damp. Well, I'll leave the preparation to you. Come, Col!" Holo chattered away, and Col, having finally caught his breath, managed to stand. Given his exhausted state, anyone watching would have wanted to stop him.
But the one who actually did was neither Elsa nor Lawrence.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha!" He laughed a boisterous, infectious laugh, head back and hands on his hips. No actor in a town square could manage such a performance as Philon did naturally in that moment. "Goodness, but you're amusing guests indeed! Don't worry, we'll make ready some hot water and handle the preparation."
"R-really?"
"If you walk around outside like that you'll catch cold. I'll have the lads heat a bath. As far as a change of clothes goes, hmm...," said Philon, thinking, at which point Lawrence got some words in.
"I can get a change of clothes from the inn."
"Hm? Oh well, let's do that, then. In the meantime, we'll deal with these eels. They'll make for an unexpectedly grand lunch!"
Lawrence wondered for a moment if in taking a bath here at the shop, Holo would let her ears or tail be seen, but doubted that Holo would let such a thing happen.
Elsa had helped Col to his feet, but Holo grabbed his hand and pulled him after her as she followed Philon farther into the shop. Lawrence watched her go and sighed helplessly.
He felt foolish for worrying so much about so many things. Holo had burned his gloom away with a brightness that no gold coin could match.
Lawrence scratched his head and looked down into the bucket of eels, a small smile on his face.
"Well, then, I'm off to the inn," he said to Elsa, who was watching Col's bucket with concern. What stopped him just short of leaving the building was not a reply from her, but rather a statement.
"I'm coming, too!" she said, just as an eel splashed noisily in the water. She flinched away from it as though avoiding a dangerous animal and came alongside Lawrence, keeping a wide berth from the bucket.