Leonardo da Vinci Portrait of Ginevra Benci

Leonardo da Vinci Portrait of Ginevra BenciLeonardo da Vinci The Madonna of the CarnationLeonardo da Vinci da Vinci Self Portrait
cold," she conceded, "I just ain't shivering."
"We used to have winters like this when I was a lad," said Cutangle, blowing on his fingers. "It doesn't snow in Ankh, hardly."
"Really," said Granny, peering ahead through the freezing fog.
"There was snow on the tops of the mountains all year round, I recall. Oh, you don't get temperatures like you did when I was a boy."
"At least, until now," he added, stamping his feet on the ice. It creaked menacingly, reminding him that it was all that , of course."
"I don't remember you," said Cutangle. "Of course, it was a long time ago. There was always a lot of children around our house." He sighed. "I suppose it's possible I pulled your hair once. It was the slay between him and the bottom of the sea. He stamped again, as softly as possible. "What mountains were these?" asked Granny. "Oh, the Ramtops. Up towards the Hub, in fact. Place called Brass Neck." Granny's lips moved. "Cutangle, Cutangle," she said softly. "Any relation to old Acktur Cutangle? Used to live in a big old house under Leaping Mountain, had a lot of sons." "My father. How on disc d'you know that?" "I was raised up there," said Granny, resisting the temptation merely to smile knowingly. "Next valley. Bad Ass. I remember your mother. Nice woman, kept brown and white chickens, I used to go up there to buy eggs for me mam. That was before I was called to witchingort of thing I used to do."
"Maybe. I remember a fat little boy. Rather unpleasant."