Juan Gris The Guitar

Juan Gris The GuitarJuan Gris BreakfastGeorge Bellows Stag at Sharkey's
Pratchett
currently wearing high cheekbones and hair tied in a pony-tail; it wore odds and ends of rags and lace and fur, confi-dent in the hid-den in the trees.”
There was indeed a rustling in the trees on one side of the track, but it was followed by a thump. The elves looked disconcerted.
“Get out of my way,” said Magrat.
“I think you have a very wrong idea,” said the elf. Its smile widened, but vanished when there was another sylvan crash from the other side of the track.
“We felt you coming all the way up the track,” said the elf. “The brave girl off to rescue her knowledge that anything would look good on an elf.It wrinkled its perfect nose at her.“There is only one Queen in Lancre,” it said. “And you are, most definitely, not her.”Magrat tried to concentrate.“Where is she, then?” she said.The other two raised their bows.“You are looking for the Queen? Then we will take you to her,” Lankin stated. “And, lady, should you be inclined to make use of that nasty iron bow there are more archers