they sleeping or awake. ’Tis only you humans who are defenseless in slumber.”
“You’d be more convincing if you snored less.”
Holo’s face hardened at Lawrence’s words. “I do not snore!”
“...Well, it’s not too loud, I suppose,” admitted Lawrence. He found her snoring rather charming, but the furrows in Holo’s brow only deepened.
“I do not snore, I say.”
“Fine, fine,” said Lawrence, chuckling, but Holo came back up to the driver’s seat and leaned close to him.
“I do not.”
“All right! Fine!”
Holo seemed to consider this a question of honor, and Lawrence found her sharp expression irritating. She had constantly gotten the best of him since they’d met, and he realized he was generally used to her treatment.
She seemed to have nothing more to say; her expression sour, she turned her back on Lawrence unceremoniously.
“Still, there really doesn’t seem to be anyone around,” murmured Lawrence casually, smiling to himself at Holo’s antics.
In truth there wasn’t a single soul on the expansive plain, as far as the eye could see.
Even given the rumors of wolves, Lawrence would have expected a few people to be taking the shortcut to Ruvinheigen, but when he looked back, there was no one to be seen.
“Rumors are a powerful force,” said Holo.
Even when her back was sullenly turned, her way of carrying on the conversation was amusing, and Lawrence chuckled in spite of himself. “True enough,” he said with a nod.
“Though it’s not quite true that there’s no one about,” said Holo, her tone slightly different now and her tail switching restlessly underneath her robe.
Then she sighed, bored.
So far, Holo had tended to her tail without alarming the merchants they passed on the road. When Lawrence saw her now deliberately hide it away, he wondered why—and soon had his answer.
“I smell sheep. There will be a shepherd ahead—I so hate shepherds.”
If there were sheep on the plains ahead, there would be shepherds as well. Shepherds were legendary for their ability to detect wolves, and Holo must have known this.
Her small nose wrinkled when she spoke of them, making her distaste entirely evident.
Shepherds and wolves were natural enemies.
But as merchants and wolves were also basically antagonistic, Lawrence kept silent on that point.
“Shall we detour?”
“Nay, it’s them who should run from us. There’s no need for us to move aside.”
Lawrence found himself chuckling at Holo’s displeasure. She glared at him, but he pretended not to notice and looked elsewhere.
“Well, if you say so, we’ll stay the course. The fields suit our wagon quite well.”
Holo nodded silently as Lawrence took up the reins.
The wagon traveled along the thin road through the plains, and at length, white dots that might have been sheep became visible in the distance.
Holo’s irritated expression remained.
Lawrence noticed when he stole a glance at her, and the sharp-eyed wolf girl seemed to notice.
She sniffed, twisting her lip. “I’ve despised shepherds longer than you’ve been alive. Getting along with them now is impossible,” she said, sighing as she looked down. “There’s all that delicious meat just walking about, but imagine just having to look at It, never tasting it—you’d hate them, too, would you not?”
Her somber tone was amusing, but it was clear that she was in fact very serious, so Lawrence made an effort to keep a straight lace as he looked ahead.
They had now gotten close enough to the flock of sheep that Lawrence could tell one from another.
The sheep were grouped closely together, so it was hard to be sure of the precise number, but it was a score, certainly, that roamed lazily across the grass, chewing away placidly.
Of course, it was not only sheep on the plains. Holo’s nemesis, the shepherd, was there as well, accompanied by a sheepdog.
The shepherd wore a robe the color of dry grass, and he had a horn fixed at the waist with
“You’d be more convincing if you snored less.”
Holo’s face hardened at Lawrence’s words. “I do not snore!”
“...Well, it’s not too loud, I suppose,” admitted Lawrence. He found her snoring rather charming, but the furrows in Holo’s brow only deepened.
“I do not snore, I say.”
“Fine, fine,” said Lawrence, chuckling, but Holo came back up to the driver’s seat and leaned close to him.
“I do not.”
“All right! Fine!”
Holo seemed to consider this a question of honor, and Lawrence found her sharp expression irritating. She had constantly gotten the best of him since they’d met, and he realized he was generally used to her treatment.
She seemed to have nothing more to say; her expression sour, she turned her back on Lawrence unceremoniously.
“Still, there really doesn’t seem to be anyone around,” murmured Lawrence casually, smiling to himself at Holo’s antics.
In truth there wasn’t a single soul on the expansive plain, as far as the eye could see.
Even given the rumors of wolves, Lawrence would have expected a few people to be taking the shortcut to Ruvinheigen, but when he looked back, there was no one to be seen.
“Rumors are a powerful force,” said Holo.
Even when her back was sullenly turned, her way of carrying on the conversation was amusing, and Lawrence chuckled in spite of himself. “True enough,” he said with a nod.
“Though it’s not quite true that there’s no one about,” said Holo, her tone slightly different now and her tail switching restlessly underneath her robe.
Then she sighed, bored.
So far, Holo had tended to her tail without alarming the merchants they passed on the road. When Lawrence saw her now deliberately hide it away, he wondered why—and soon had his answer.
“I smell sheep. There will be a shepherd ahead—I so hate shepherds.”
If there were sheep on the plains ahead, there would be shepherds as well. Shepherds were legendary for their ability to detect wolves, and Holo must have known this.
Her small nose wrinkled when she spoke of them, making her distaste entirely evident.
Shepherds and wolves were natural enemies.
But as merchants and wolves were also basically antagonistic, Lawrence kept silent on that point.
“Shall we detour?”
“Nay, it’s them who should run from us. There’s no need for us to move aside.”
Lawrence found himself chuckling at Holo’s displeasure. She glared at him, but he pretended not to notice and looked elsewhere.
“Well, if you say so, we’ll stay the course. The fields suit our wagon quite well.”
Holo nodded silently as Lawrence took up the reins.
The wagon traveled along the thin road through the plains, and at length, white dots that might have been sheep became visible in the distance.
Holo’s irritated expression remained.
Lawrence noticed when he stole a glance at her, and the sharp-eyed wolf girl seemed to notice.
She sniffed, twisting her lip. “I’ve despised shepherds longer than you’ve been alive. Getting along with them now is impossible,” she said, sighing as she looked down. “There’s all that delicious meat just walking about, but imagine just having to look at It, never tasting it—you’d hate them, too, would you not?”
Her somber tone was amusing, but it was clear that she was in fact very serious, so Lawrence made an effort to keep a straight lace as he looked ahead.
They had now gotten close enough to the flock of sheep that Lawrence could tell one from another.
The sheep were grouped closely together, so it was hard to be sure of the precise number, but it was a score, certainly, that roamed lazily across the grass, chewing away placidly.
Of course, it was not only sheep on the plains. Holo’s nemesis, the shepherd, was there as well, accompanied by a sheepdog.
The shepherd wore a robe the color of dry grass, and he had a horn fixed at the waist with
Similar Books
