conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a plot for a book about Charlie, Robbie, America entitled The Last Wolf.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Last Wolf: Miya has a grandfather, Michael Mcleod who has pneumonia.\nHe is lonely with nothing much to do, so she gets him into computers.\nMichael comes up with a project that they could do togetherThey agree to discover their ancestors from way back into the 1700s.\nWhile working on the project they find a story that was written by their great-great-great-great-great grandfather.\nTheir great-great-great-great-great grandfather, Robbie Mcleod, talks about his childhood.\nWhen he was a little boy, he was an orphan and his uncle looked after him.\nHis uncle was so cruel that he ran away from him and went to live in the woods.\nHe found the wolf pup whose mother was killed.\nHe took care of him.\nA few days later he and Charlie (the wolf) found a way to get to America.\nThey were hoping that America was better to live in, but they were mistaken.\nIn America there was a war going on between the redcoats and the rebels.\nWhen they arrived in America they went through lots of life-threatening situations.\nAs the years passed, Robbie gets older and Charlie does as well.\nCharlie also gets wilder.\nRobbie notices the change in Charlie and knows it was time for him to go.\nRobbie was very sad, but knew it had to happen soon so he may as well do it now.\nAfter that heart breaking moment he built a farm beside the lake saw Charlie.\nA few years later Robbie got married and had a son named Alan.\nHe saw Charlie a couple more times and the last time they saw each other was when Charlie had a family.\nAfter Miya and her grandfather read this story they decided to go to America and see where Robbie and Charlie lived.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first three paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Last Wolf
  The deer knew the corrie as a place to lie up in oppressive warm weather, and so would the shieling folk of Glen Ample who doubtless named that landscape. And so would its wolves. One effect of the presence of wolves on the ground is to manage deer herds with the kind of relentless efficiency that we (as the only species that now manages deer) could never begin to emulate. A wolf pack is more or less constantly on the move within its territory, and for that simple reason, deer are more or less constantly on the move too. The absence of wolves these last two centuries has made the deer more or less sedentary.
  Great birch woods from both sides of the valley descended to the stream, thereby making the excellence of the Home beat, for the woodland stag is a heavier beast than his brother of the high tops.
  In those parts of mainland Europe where red deer still live mainly in forests you find stags a third bigger than the Monarch of the Glen and his kin. So by keeping deer on the move the herd is smaller, the animals larger and healthier, and woodland flourishes to such an extent that it becomes forest and a healthy forest can sustain a healthy deer population. The agent that makes all this possible is the wolf. It bears repeating: in a northern hemisphere wilderness, with the wolf in place everything in nature makes sense, but in the absence of wolves nothing in nature makes sense. We have taken upon ourselves the role of the top predator, and such is our inefficiency in the job that we first eliminated nature's genius of biodiversity in the wolf, then instructed the landscape to evolve as a bare land overrun by deer and sheep, then – a last madness – we invented a forestry industry to grow trees nature would not have chosen and in a way that nature would never have chosen to grow them. And then we shut the deer out from these forests.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: At which point the man from France smiled and nodded vigorously and said: 'I am impressed. Do you know, this is so like the landscape in France where we reintroduced beavers.' He nodded again. 'So like it.'
  I go often to Lochan Buidhe, and almost as often I think about Don's simple conviction that his dream validated the idea of beavers here. And the more I think about it the more it impresses me too. Because there would have been a time – even among these very hills – when the assistance of dream or second sight or some knowledge acquired intuitively from some realm beyond reason would have informed decisions and determined the course of events. Seers and sages, sung and unsung, are part of the history of such places.
  North American Indian and Inuit cultures are rich in such traditions, and we often know more about them because they stayed closer to nature for much longer than we did (and in some places they still do), and because America's admirable tradition of nature writing has written them down and found a market place in modern popular culture. Don lived his life in nature's company... and if you spend your life working with nature on nature's terms, determined to live as close to it as is humanly possible today, it is far from fanciful to suppose that nature in return might trust you and use you to further its cause, and insinuate its purpose into a dream.
  And if you take that philosophy and present it to such a body as, say, Scottish Natural Heritage, or the petitions committee of the Scottish Parliament, and suggest that it is a more appropriate basis for action on behalf of wildlife than their ponderous bureaucracies, how far do you think you would get?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Swap the first and the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: And if you take that philosophy and present it to such a body as, say, Scottish Natural Heritage, or the petitions committee of the Scottish Parliament, and suggest that it is a more appropriate basis for action on behalf of wildlife than their ponderous bureaucracies, how far do you think you would get? Do you know, this is so like the landscape in France where we reintroduced beavers.' He nodded again. 'So like it.'
  I go often to Lochan Buidhe, and almost as often I think about Don's simple conviction that his dream validated the idea of beavers here. And the more I think about it the more it impresses me too. Because there would have been a time – even among these very hills – when the assistance of dream or second sight or some knowledge acquired intuitively from some realm beyond reason would have informed decisions and determined the course of events. Seers and sages, sung and unsung, are part of the history of such places.
  North American Indian and Inuit cultures are rich in such traditions, and we often know more about them because they stayed closer to nature for much longer than we did (and in some places they still do), and because America's admirable tradition of nature writing has written them down and found a market place in modern popular culture. Don lived his life in nature's company... and if you spend your life working with nature on nature's terms, determined to live as close to it as is humanly possible today, it is far from fanciful to suppose that nature in return might trust you and use you to further its cause, and insinuate its purpose into a dream.At which point the man from France smiled and nodded vigorously and said: 'I am impressed.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last three paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The most frequent objections will centre on the same old fears that emerged from the Dark Ages, and we now know these are groundless. Wolves do not attack people except in circumstances so unusual and so rare that it is impossible to legislate for them, and almost inevitably they result from people tormenting wolves or trying to feed them. Wolves have very good reason to avoid people, a couple of thousand years' worth of reasons. As for wolves killing people, no-one knows when that last happened anywhere in the world, whereas here in Scotland we know for certain that we exterminated them; and whereas here in Scotland we know for certain that at least four children have been killed already this century by their own families' pet dogs.
  The price we must pay, and it is the only price we must pay, is to learn that awareness I encountered at the far end of an Alaskan grizzly bear's gaze across 20 yards of fireweed: that situations will exist out there in which your species and mine will not be in charge. You may confidently expect much more thoughtful and considerate responses from reintroduced wild wolves towards your species and mine than our species has shown towards its fellow travellers of the animal kingdom all across the planet, and forever.
  The slow string of deer out beyond the lochan shaped like a crab with one claw stops again to browse. No wolf leaps across the mirroring water to disturb their torpor. Like the Yellowstone elk, they have long since forgotten how to behave like red deer. Like the Yellowstone elk they will learn again very quickly once the wolf returns to Rannoch, once they have to share their landscape again with the painter of mountains.