conversations.from: human
conversations.value: a title for a book about Kalinka, Przewalski's, Max with the genre: Teen & Young Adult, Literature & Fiction
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'The Winter Horses'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first paragraph for this book.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Winter Horses
  IT WAS DURING THE summer of 1941 that, to a man, the management of the State Steppe Nature Reserve of the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic ran away. Before he drove from the reserve in his shiny black limousine, Borys Demyanovich Krajnik, who was the senior manager, ordered Maxim Borisovich Melnik—who looked after all the animals on the nature reserve—to run away, too.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me two more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: In the cold dawn, Grenzmann mounted his horse, and the SS men sat in the sidecars of their motorcycles and checked that their heavy machine guns were loaded, the way they'd done many times before. The guns weren't pointed at Max.
  Max started to walk; there was no point in running. Where could he have gone? Besides, the motorcycles would have caught up with him in seconds.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: This drew a loud shout of approval, although in truth he hardly had to ask his men. The Red Army never needed much of an excuse for a song and dance to keep up their spirits. Polished triangular balalaikas were already being tuned, bulky piano accordions were being buckled onto broad chests and shiny tin harmonicas were searching for middle C. To Kalinka, it all looked and sounded utterly chaotic until, as one man, the army fell silent and, almost imperceptibly, a single note began in the chests of the men like the hum of a huge swarm of honeybees. Gradually, this eternal note gathered in strength until it filled the Black Sea air in a great crescendo of male voices that sounded as if they were nothing less than a heavenly choir. The magnificent sound—for so Kalinka thought it—began and ceased and began again, glimmering and vast, an ebb and flow of both melancholy and joy that seemed to sum up everything the girl had been through; if men could produce such honey-sweet music with what was in their hearts, then surely there was still some hope for the world. And while nothing was or ever could be forgotten, Kalinka could now perceive some idea of a tomorrow for herself, too, not perhaps as the heroine of the steppes—as she had already heard herself described by some of the more poetically-minded soldiers—but as an ordinary Ukrainian woman.
  Kalinka looked over at the two Przewalski's horses, who were now grazing in their enclosure under an armed guard; Temüjin and Börte appeared to be quite oblivious of the song and its meaning, not to mention their improved status in the unpredictable world of men, which was exactly how it should have been, she thought. They were wild horses, after all.
  Then she looked up at the sky above what remained of Simferopol's zoo. The acrid gray smoke of the Red Army bombardment had cleared from the sky, which was as bright a shade of Ukrainian blue as she had ever seen, to reveal a bright, hot sun that warmed Kalinka's cold face and seemed to thaw both it and her emotions, until at last, for the first time in almost a year, Kalinka found that she could smile again.
  Hear Russia's great Red Army Choir sing "Kalinka" here: http://​www.​youtube.​com/​watch?v=​3PkXp​Csgj5U
  All of the world's Przewalski's horses are descended from just nine of thirty-one horses in captivity at the end of the Second World War in 1945. And these same nine horses were themselves descended from approximately fifteen captured around 1900. A few Przewalski's horses have been successfully reintroduced to their native habitat, the steppes of Mongolia, and as of 2011 there is an estimated free-ranging population of over three hundred in the wild. The total number of these horses, according to a 2005 census, was about fifteen hundred.