Upload LlamaForCausalLM

README.md

@@ -1,20 +1,160 @@
-
 ---
-base_model: LouisML/tinyllama_32k
-
 tags:
 - datadreamer
 - datadreamer-0.28.0
 - synthetic
 - text-generation
-
+base_model: LouisML/tinyllama_32k
 widget:
-  - text: "Chapter Eight: Whisper of the Woods\n\nIn a hidden nook of the forest just east of the lake, nestled amidst bushes and glowing flora, lay the Brush Den, a sanctuary created by fae hands with a deep reverence for nature's grandeur. The entrance, a portal of entwined twigs and leaves, beckoned the woodland creatures towards the heart of their heartwarming home.\n\nThe den's interior was a union of organic contours and woodsy hues, remarkably crafted from the forest's generous bounty. Nature's workmanship was evident in chairs of intricately woven roots, as comfortable as they were alluring. A wooden table adorned with vibrant forest flowers showcased its glorious transformation under the diligent hands of the fairy folk. On one side, three petite beds made from an intermingling of grass and leaves lay upon the earthy floor. The ethereal light of a lone, dangling glowing flower illuminated the Brush Den, its radiance lending the room a feeling of tranquility.\n\nAmong the exquisite furnishings, the indomitable spirit of the fae trio danced. Faelin, flush with nimble energy, twirled a small wooden knife in his hand as he talked animatedly about his adventures in the dense woods earlier that day, his sparkling green eyes a sparkling reflection of his love for their humble forest abode. \n\n\"There's a grove of fireflies near Ant Hill, glowing brighter than ever,\" he announced, grinning widely, his palm lightly grazing the sturdy leaves of his armor.\n\nSeated across from him, Lila admired the soft petals of her dress, her mind getting lost in the sea of magical herbs she had discovered today. She was a quiet river, gentle and serene, her illuminating wings blending beautifully with the array of flowers on the table. \n\n\"Maybe we could use the light for growing these new herbs I found,\" she chimed in, her fingers brushing the surface of the intriguing flora that she'd placed on the table.\n\nSurveying the tableau before him, Renn was the subtle wind beneath their wings - silent, yet potent. His wisdom resonated in the place he now called home, a testament to his dedication towards protecting his clan. He leaned forward, studying the tattered map spread before him on the table. His fingers traced the paths marked across it, his mind rendering the invisible threats tangible.\n\n\"It's important we stick together,\" he advised, glancing at the eager eyes of his companions, \"Many parts of the forest remain uncharted territory. The Ant Hill up North, the Pine Tree Graveyard to the East, we need to tread cautiously.\"\n\nAs the mood shifted from reminiscence to strategizing, their camaraderie sparkled like their humble glowing beacon. Their concerns echoed off the arched bushes, their resolve interlacing like the roots beneath them. They were born of the forest, part of its life-giving rhythm, destined to defend it from the imminent tempest.\n\nTheir collective decision hung in the air, a pact sealed within the Brush Den's intimate sanctum. Each of them - Faelin with his innovative ideas, Lila with her tranquil wisdom, and Renn with his superior guidance - brought their strengths together for the love of their homeland.\n\nUnited, they stood stronger, the essence of their resolve intertwining with the faint glow of their radiant shelter, ready to hurdle any storm that dared to disrupt the pulse of their sacred forest. Their forest, their home."
-    example_title: "Example 1"
-  - text: "The Ant Hill quivered under the relentless sun, sitting at the base of a towering pine tree like an ancient and fabled crypt. Forming large, complex tunnels and chambers, the hill was alive with activity. The red auburn dirt of their home riddled with the macabre mementos of mortality protruding from its mounds - bones of animals and even humans, inspiring awe and dread in equal measure. Despite being the scourge of the kingdom, from the hulking cattle to as grand as the baby elephants, an undeniable sense of savage magnificence hung in the air.\n\nFront and center of this buzzing superorganism was the Worker Ant. Her size equivalent to that of a rat, berobed in the dusted red of the soil from the ant hill. With tireless diligence, she ventured out to forage, her path lit by the shimmering tracery of pheromone trails. Her mandibles held a medium-sized green leaf piece and grains of sand, resources that would nourish and fortify the colony\u2019s burgeoning hill. The colony always came first, its mandate threaded into every fibre of her being.\n\nAway from the feverish activity, in the colony's inner sanctum, the Sergeant Ant stood vigil. His exoskeleton was a grim carapace of battle scars, speaking sagas of dangers faced and battles won. Adjacent to him, the Ant Queen, the matriarch of this teeming civilization, was an awe-inspiring sight. Her monstrously-large, bloated abdomen glistened in the dim light, intricate patterns of growth adorning her segmented body. Protocol and respect demanded his approach with the decapitated head of an enemy ant in his mandible, a rich source of pride radiating from his form.\n\n\"My queen,\" he began, his tone reflecting the steadfast loyalty he felt, \"the enemy colonies prepare for another assault.\"\n\nKeenly aware of the menace her subjects faced, the queen regarded the Sergeant Ant, who was her first line of defence. He felt the pulse of her pheromone messages - a mix of urgency and reassurance. \"We shall meet them, Sergeant. Our breed must advance. It's time for our new progeny to safeguard us,\" she replied. A crackling energy pervaded the chamber as though the hill was thrumming with the pulse of a thousand hearts - the beat of survival.\n\nAny conversation of the Ant Queen's brewing plans was disrupted when a cry echoed through the hilly corridors of the ant house. A Worker Ant lost her struggle with a predatory bird while procuring resources. Despite the everyday possibility of terror and death, the loss stung each ant - a collective pain.\n\nIn the arduous aftermath, an atmosphere of impending change was cast upon the ant hill. The Ant Queen, although resolute, could not entirely obscure her brooding turmoil. Her royal pheromones, usually markers of her royal authority were subtly tinged with a scent of vulnerability. The inevitability of her ageing and the precarious balance between life and demise sent a shiver down the collective consciousness of the colony.\n\nHowever, amid this minor disquietude, the ant hill remained a beacon of unity and collective strength. The Worker Ant, steeled with duty and resolve, returned to her tasks - the loss adding to her resolve rather than diminishing it. The Sergeant Ant, her courage reinvigorated, pledged an unspoken vow to protect with all he had. The items and inhabitants of the great Ant Hill, from the large pine cone to the grains of sand, from the Ant Queen to the diligent workers, were each a testament to this legacy - the legacy of survival. The circle of life, of unity, and the inevitable change hovered around the ant hill in a silent, quintessential dance. The mystique and grandeur of Ant Hill were a testament to nature's undaunted spirit. There it stood - a cenotaph of relentless survival and collective ambition, chiseling a saga of life in the very heart of the wilderness."
-    example_title: "Example 2"
-  - text: "The Pine Tree Graveyard, a bed of moss-covered tombstones and shadow-laden pine trees, lay shrouded in an oppressive silence. The entrance, choked with ancient tree trunks, opened onto a world swallowed by an eerie fog that appeared to quarantine the graveyard from the rest of the world. It was a dismal landscape, teeming with the stillness of the ritually returned and the whispers of the dead. Dead grass and creeping critters traced paths over the graves, silent guides to the passages carved in stone with names reclaimed by the ravages of time. No sunlight dared to pierce its canopy, further sharing in the crypt-like solitude. \n\nFrom the hallowed silence emerged a figure, Gravedigger Agnes. Gaunt and time-worn, she trod the graveyard with a familiarity that balanced on reverence. A rusty shovel over her shoulder and a heart announced her unending search for the lost resting place of her heart's one true companion. A locket secured around her neck bore witness to their dwindled romance, locked in the faded semblance of their young selves. \n\nFrom the veils of silence, there drifted another, a spectre swaddled in regret and tragedy. The ethereal figure of the nobleman, Bartolomeo, flickered amidst headstones haunting the graveyard. His trembling glow the only sorry solace in this enclave of desolation. Bartolomeo, in his cryptic existence only longed for escape, his mournful gaze looking for keys to this terrestrial shackle. \n\nThe graveyard played host to another enigma, Pine Maiden Lucia. Her piercing pine-green eyes sparkled against the grey palette, punctuation to the yard's dire desertedness. Her goals were to protect her aged wards, her determined efforts to sprout life where death reigned indisputable added an air of strangeness to this place of dread. \n\nAs Bartolomeo's mourning echoed amidst the tombstones, Agnes, sharing a fate no different, spoke gently of her perpetual search for her lost love. Lucia, contrary to the graveyard's narrative, suggested that perhaps infusing the graveyard with life, she could offer release to the lost souls. \n\nThe graveyard, with its haunting Ghostly Veil, the glow of the ghostly lantern and the gothic silence, played as a surrealist stage to this ensemble of characters. Their conversations, the teetering hope of redemption, and the shade of unexpressed grief brought alive countless tales hiding beneath the moss and grave dirt. The merging atmosphere and character arcs promised a thrilling saga, shrouded in dread and fear but tangled with hope and redemption. \n\nThe whispers of the desolation ebbed away, leaving the resonating echoes of their conversation threading like a requiem through the graveyard. Something, unfathomable yet emotional, had stirred in the quiet depths of Pine Tree Graveyard, and a tremor of anticipation crept down the marrow of every tombstone for the untold future that lay ahead."
-    example_title: "Example 3"
+- text: "Chapter Eight: Whisper of the Woods\n\nIn a hidden nook of the forest just\
+    \ east of the lake, nestled amidst bushes and glowing flora, lay the Brush Den,\
+    \ a sanctuary created by fae hands with a deep reverence for nature's grandeur.\
+    \ The entrance, a portal of entwined twigs and leaves, beckoned the woodland creatures\
+    \ towards the heart of their heartwarming home.\n\nThe den's interior was a union\
+    \ of organic contours and woodsy hues, remarkably crafted from the forest's generous\
+    \ bounty. Nature's workmanship was evident in chairs of intricately woven roots,\
+    \ as comfortable as they were alluring. A wooden table adorned with vibrant forest\
+    \ flowers showcased its glorious transformation under the diligent hands of the\
+    \ fairy folk. On one side, three petite beds made from an intermingling of grass\
+    \ and leaves lay upon the earthy floor. The ethereal light of a lone, dangling\
+    \ glowing flower illuminated the Brush Den, its radiance lending the room a feeling\
+    \ of tranquility.\n\nAmong the exquisite furnishings, the indomitable spirit of\
+    \ the fae trio danced. Faelin, flush with nimble energy, twirled a small wooden\
+    \ knife in his hand as he talked animatedly about his adventures in the dense\
+    \ woods earlier that day, his sparkling green eyes a sparkling reflection of his\
+    \ love for their humble forest abode. \n\n\"There's a grove of fireflies near\
+    \ Ant Hill, glowing brighter than ever,\" he announced, grinning widely, his palm\
+    \ lightly grazing the sturdy leaves of his armor.\n\nSeated across from him, Lila\
+    \ admired the soft petals of her dress, her mind getting lost in the sea of magical\
+    \ herbs she had discovered today. She was a quiet river, gentle and serene, her\
+    \ illuminating wings blending beautifully with the array of flowers on the table.\
+    \ \n\n\"Maybe we could use the light for growing these new herbs I found,\" she\
+    \ chimed in, her fingers brushing the surface of the intriguing flora that she'd\
+    \ placed on the table.\n\nSurveying the tableau before him, Renn was the subtle\
+    \ wind beneath their wings - silent, yet potent. His wisdom resonated in the place\
+    \ he now called home, a testament to his dedication towards protecting his clan.\
+    \ He leaned forward, studying the tattered map spread before him on the table.\
+    \ His fingers traced the paths marked across it, his mind rendering the invisible\
+    \ threats tangible.\n\n\"It's important we stick together,\" he advised, glancing\
+    \ at the eager eyes of his companions, \"Many parts of the forest remain uncharted\
+    \ territory. The Ant Hill up North, the Pine Tree Graveyard to the East, we need\
+    \ to tread cautiously.\"\n\nAs the mood shifted from reminiscence to strategizing,\
+    \ their camaraderie sparkled like their humble glowing beacon. Their concerns\
+    \ echoed off the arched bushes, their resolve interlacing like the roots beneath\
+    \ them. They were born of the forest, part of its life-giving rhythm, destined\
+    \ to defend it from the imminent tempest.\n\nTheir collective decision hung in\
+    \ the air, a pact sealed within the Brush Den's intimate sanctum. Each of them\
+    \ - Faelin with his innovative ideas, Lila with her tranquil wisdom, and Renn\
+    \ with his superior guidance - brought their strengths together for the love of\
+    \ their homeland.\n\nUnited, they stood stronger, the essence of their resolve\
+    \ intertwining with the faint glow of their radiant shelter, ready to hurdle any\
+    \ storm that dared to disrupt the pulse of their sacred forest. Their forest,\
+    \ their home."
+  example_title: Example 1
+- text: 'The Ant Hill quivered under the relentless sun, sitting at the base of a
+    towering pine tree like an ancient and fabled crypt. Forming large, complex tunnels
+    and chambers, the hill was alive with activity. The red auburn dirt of their home
+    riddled with the macabre mementos of mortality protruding from its mounds - bones
+    of animals and even humans, inspiring awe and dread in equal measure. Despite
+    being the scourge of the kingdom, from the hulking cattle to as grand as the baby
+    elephants, an undeniable sense of savage magnificence hung in the air.
+
+
+    Front and center of this buzzing superorganism was the Worker Ant. Her size equivalent
+    to that of a rat, berobed in the dusted red of the soil from the ant hill. With
+    tireless diligence, she ventured out to forage, her path lit by the shimmering
+    tracery of pheromone trails. Her mandibles held a medium-sized green leaf piece
+    and grains of sand, resources that would nourish and fortify the colony’s burgeoning
+    hill. The colony always came first, its mandate threaded into every fibre of her
+    being.
+
+
+    Away from the feverish activity, in the colony''s inner sanctum, the Sergeant
+    Ant stood vigil. His exoskeleton was a grim carapace of battle scars, speaking
+    sagas of dangers faced and battles won. Adjacent to him, the Ant Queen, the matriarch
+    of this teeming civilization, was an awe-inspiring sight. Her monstrously-large,
+    bloated abdomen glistened in the dim light, intricate patterns of growth adorning
+    her segmented body. Protocol and respect demanded his approach with the decapitated
+    head of an enemy ant in his mandible, a rich source of pride radiating from his
+    form.
+
+
+    "My queen," he began, his tone reflecting the steadfast loyalty he felt, "the
+    enemy colonies prepare for another assault."
+
+
+    Keenly aware of the menace her subjects faced, the queen regarded the Sergeant
+    Ant, who was her first line of defence. He felt the pulse of her pheromone messages
+    - a mix of urgency and reassurance. "We shall meet them, Sergeant. Our breed must
+    advance. It''s time for our new progeny to safeguard us," she replied. A crackling
+    energy pervaded the chamber as though the hill was thrumming with the pulse of
+    a thousand hearts - the beat of survival.
+
+
+    Any conversation of the Ant Queen''s brewing plans was disrupted when a cry echoed
+    through the hilly corridors of the ant house. A Worker Ant lost her struggle with
+    a predatory bird while procuring resources. Despite the everyday possibility of
+    terror and death, the loss stung each ant - a collective pain.
+
+
+    In the arduous aftermath, an atmosphere of impending change was cast upon the
+    ant hill. The Ant Queen, although resolute, could not entirely obscure her brooding
+    turmoil. Her royal pheromones, usually markers of her royal authority were subtly
+    tinged with a scent of vulnerability. The inevitability of her ageing and the
+    precarious balance between life and demise sent a shiver down the collective consciousness
+    of the colony.
+
+
+    However, amid this minor disquietude, the ant hill remained a beacon of unity
+    and collective strength. The Worker Ant, steeled with duty and resolve, returned
+    to her tasks - the loss adding to her resolve rather than diminishing it. The
+    Sergeant Ant, her courage reinvigorated, pledged an unspoken vow to protect with
+    all he had. The items and inhabitants of the great Ant Hill, from the large pine
+    cone to the grains of sand, from the Ant Queen to the diligent workers, were each
+    a testament to this legacy - the legacy of survival. The circle of life, of unity,
+    and the inevitable change hovered around the ant hill in a silent, quintessential
+    dance. The mystique and grandeur of Ant Hill were a testament to nature''s undaunted
+    spirit. There it stood - a cenotaph of relentless survival and collective ambition,
+    chiseling a saga of life in the very heart of the wilderness.'
+  example_title: Example 2
+- text: "The Pine Tree Graveyard, a bed of moss-covered tombstones and shadow-laden\
+    \ pine trees, lay shrouded in an oppressive silence. The entrance, choked with\
+    \ ancient tree trunks, opened onto a world swallowed by an eerie fog that appeared\
+    \ to quarantine the graveyard from the rest of the world. It was a dismal landscape,\
+    \ teeming with the stillness of the ritually returned and the whispers of the\
+    \ dead. Dead grass and creeping critters traced paths over the graves, silent\
+    \ guides to the passages carved in stone with names reclaimed by the ravages of\
+    \ time. No sunlight dared to pierce its canopy, further sharing in the crypt-like\
+    \ solitude. \n\nFrom the hallowed silence emerged a figure, Gravedigger Agnes.\
+    \ Gaunt and time-worn, she trod the graveyard with a familiarity that balanced\
+    \ on reverence. A rusty shovel over her shoulder and a heart announced her unending\
+    \ search for the lost resting place of her heart's one true companion. A locket\
+    \ secured around her neck bore witness to their dwindled romance, locked in the\
+    \ faded semblance of their young selves. \n\nFrom the veils of silence, there\
+    \ drifted another, a spectre swaddled in regret and tragedy. The ethereal figure\
+    \ of the nobleman, Bartolomeo, flickered amidst headstones haunting the graveyard.\
+    \ His trembling glow the only sorry solace in this enclave of desolation. Bartolomeo,\
+    \ in his cryptic existence only longed for escape, his mournful gaze looking for\
+    \ keys to this terrestrial shackle. \n\nThe graveyard played host to another enigma,\
+    \ Pine Maiden Lucia. Her piercing pine-green eyes sparkled against the grey palette,\
+    \ punctuation to the yard's dire desertedness. Her goals were to protect her aged\
+    \ wards, her determined efforts to sprout life where death reigned indisputable\
+    \ added an air of strangeness to this place of dread. \n\nAs Bartolomeo's mourning\
+    \ echoed amidst the tombstones, Agnes, sharing a fate no different, spoke gently\
+    \ of her perpetual search for her lost love. Lucia, contrary to the graveyard's\
+    \ narrative, suggested that perhaps infusing the graveyard with life, she could\
+    \ offer release to the lost souls. \n\nThe graveyard, with its haunting Ghostly\
+    \ Veil, the glow of the ghostly lantern and the gothic silence, played as a surrealist\
+    \ stage to this ensemble of characters. Their conversations, the teetering hope\
+    \ of redemption, and the shade of unexpressed grief brought alive countless tales\
+    \ hiding beneath the moss and grave dirt. The merging atmosphere and character\
+    \ arcs promised a thrilling saga, shrouded in dread and fear but tangled with\
+    \ hope and redemption. \n\nThe whispers of the desolation ebbed away, leaving\
+    \ the resonating echoes of their conversation threading like a requiem through\
+    \ the graveyard. Something, unfathomable yet emotional, had stirred in the quiet\
+    \ depths of Pine Tree Graveyard, and a tremor of anticipation crept down the marrow\
+    \ of every tombstone for the untold future that lay ahead."
+  example_title: Example 3
 pipeline_tag: text-generation
 ---
 # Model Card