conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first four paragraphs for a book with the title 'The Dark Griffin'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Dark Griffin
  Extra thanks to OceanicChick for her helpful suggestions and for listening to and commenting on my ideas in their early stages. Your input was invaluable.
  Extra thanks also to Dragonknighttara, a.k.a. Natalie Van Sistine, the great composer. Your talent amazes me. That you decided to use it on a project dedicated to something I created was one of the most incredible things I've ever had happen to me in my life.
  Final thanks for Welsh translations to Janice Jones of Gairynei Bryd (A Timely Word), which provides proofreading, editing and mentoring services (camlas@hotmail.com).
  The valley, overlooked by a trio of craggy peaks, was green and wild, untouched by humans. This was the domain of something else.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me five more paragraphs.. End with the sentence ' He's really lost it, hasn't he?"'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Arren didn't enjoy the process one bit. He yelled and struggled and mouthed abuse at them when they refused to let him go. It was an ugly scene, but Flell only gritted her teeth and worked on. When she had finished, she tied the last hastily made bandage into place and pulled him to his feet. He stood, trembling slightly, but didn't try to make good on any of the threats he'd made.
  Flell put the blanket over him, careful not to touch the bandages. "Just get some sleep now, Arren. I'll come back in the morning, all right?"
  She hustled the other two out of the house and locked the door behind her with the spare key. The moon was up by now, and the torches in the street were lit.
  Gern leant against the wall of the house and wiped his forehead with his arm. "Phew! That was horrible!"
  Bran shook his head. "I've seen him drunk before, but never that bad. He's really lost it, hasn't he?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last five paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Arren stopped and looked back at him. The black griffin's presence was still menacing. He was still dangerous. He was still a man-eater. And yet...
  A cold determination came over him. He pulled the robe more tightly over his shoulders and snuggled against Skandar's flank. North. They would go to the North. There were hundreds of people there who looked like him. He would not be noticed.
  For a moment, he thought of Rannagon. And Flell. And the burning Eyrie. Had he really done those things? Had he?
  Griffiners were not quite human. Many people said so. After so long living among griffins, they became griffish themselves. And griffins killed. For food, for pride, for revenge. For survival. They did not understand weakness or timidity. His old self—the man he had been—was completely alien to them. Why should he be weak and submissive, always looking to others for approval, always afraid of himself and his own nature? He had killed, and it had been right. Not good, not kind, but right for him. The only way. A griffin's way.
  He looked at Skandar. The griffin's huge sides moved in and out in time with his deep, rumbling breaths, but in his sleep he looked almost peaceful.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The griffin's huge sides moved in and out in time with his deep, rumbling breaths, but in his sleep he looked almost peaceful..
  He looked at Skandar. A griffin's way. The only way. Not good, not kind, but right for him. Why should he be weak and submissive, always looking to others for approval, always afraid of himself and his own nature? He had killed, and it had been right. His old self—the man he had been—was completely alien to them. They did not understand weakness or timidity. For survival. For food, for pride, for revenge. And griffins killed. After so long living among griffins, they became griffish themselves. Many people said so. Had he really done those things? Had he?
  Griffiners were not quite human. And the burning Eyrie. And Flell.
  For a moment, he thought of Rannagon. He would not be noticed. There were hundreds of people there who looked like him. They would go to the North. North. He pulled the robe more tightly over his shoulders and snuggled against Skandar's flank.
  A cold determination came over him... And yet. He was still a man-eater. He was still dangerous. The black griffin's presence was still menacing.Arren stopped and looked back at him