conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me a description for a book titled Uncharted Territory about Using with the genre: Literature & Fiction, Action & Adventure.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: You can join me as we explore fear and power, greed and human need in my short stories and novels, articles, interviews and essays. Using family relationships and the backdrop of historical events, I write to bring focus to the themes that drive our human race. My fiction is written for adults and young adults from the perspective of youth. The characters in these stories face a confusing world of hypocrisy and courageous honesty. The humor, friendships, and caring they bring to these situations help them forge new solutions to age-old problems.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Uncharted Territory
  We were still three kloms from King's X when Carson spotted the dust. "What on hell's that?" he said, leaning forward over his pony's pommelbone and pointing at nothing that I could see.
  I still couldn't see anything except the pinkish ridge that hid King's X, and a couple of luggage grazing on the scourbrush, and I told him so.
  He still didn't look up, which didn't surprise me.
  They come in one variety: whiners. They spend every minute of the expedition complaining—about the outdoor plumbing and the dust and Bult and having to ride ponies and everything else they can think of. The last one spent the whole expedition yowling about "terrocentric enslaving imperialists," meaning Carson and me, and how we'd corrupted the "simple, noble indigenous sentients," meaning Bult, which was bad enough, but then she latched onto Bult and told him our presence "defiled the very atmosphere of the planet," and Bult started trying to fine us for breathing.
  Well, as a matter of fact, we'd been arguing long enough that now I could, a kicked-up line of pinkish cloud close to the ridge.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about doing, tallying.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Uncharted Territory
  We were still three kloms from King's X when Carson spotted the dust. "What on hell's that?" he said, leaning forward over his pony's pommelbone and pointing at nothing that I could see. 
  I still couldn't see anything except the pinkish ridge that hid King's X, and a couple of luggage grazing on the scourbrush, and I told him so. 
  He still didn't look up, which didn't surprise me. He was busy doing his favorite thing, tallying up fines. 
  They come in one variety: whiners. They spend every minute of the expedition complaining—about the outdoor plumbing and the dust and Bult and having to ride ponies and everything else they can think of. The last one spent the whole expedition yowling about "terrocentric enslaving imperialists," meaning Carson and me, and how we'd corrupted the "simple, noble indigenous sentients," meaning Bult, which was bad enough, but then she latched onto Bult and told him our presence "defiled the very atmosphere of the planet," and Bult started trying to fine us for breathing. 
  Well, as a matter of fact, we'd been arguing long enough that now I could, a kicked-up line of pinkish cloud close to the ridge.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.. End with the sentence '
  He looked at Carson for a minute like he was thinking of something else, and then said what sounded to me like steam hissing and then metal being dragged over granite.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The ponies picked their way across it like it was quicksand, and Ev just about fell off, trying to lean down to look at it. "The female willowback needs to lay her eggs in still water, so the courtship ritual involves the male doing a swimming dance that dams up sand across the stream."
  I wasn't paying any attention. Bult was peering through the binocs at the hills between us and the Tongue, and Carson's pony was starting to sway. "Here's your big chance, Ev," I said. "Rest stop!"
  After Carson and I did the topographicals and we had lunch, I hauled out my rocks and plastic bags and Carson emptied his bug-catcher, and we settled down to naming.
  Carson started with the bugs. "Do you have a name for it?" he asked Bult, holding it away from Bult so he couldn't stuff it in his mouth, but Bult didn't even look interested.
  He looked at Carson for a minute like he was thinking of something else, and then said what sounded to me like steam hissing and then metal being dragged over granite.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Ev looked up at the heli. "You've already done quite a bit." He shook his head, grinning. "Crystal Falls," he said, looking at me. "I still think we should've named it Heart's Desire."
  I went over to where Bult was sitting, watching the pop-up of Carson holding Skimpy Skirt's hand. "Come with me," Carson said.
  Carson was looking at the falls again. "I still think we should've named it Tssarrrah Falls," he said. He went over to his pony and started rummaging in his pack.
  He got on his pony and we started off down the slope after Bult. Out beyond the cliff the plain was turning purple in the late afternoon. The Wall curved down out of the Ponypiles and meandered across it, and