Fur. It is practical for the blending in and the showing off. My special ice crystal I also wear for the perpetuating of bodily coldness of my home.
I am lacking in the tact. At altitude, talking is an oxygen waste so words are pointed. I am often puncturing the feelings here down below. I am not wishing to fill others with the sadness but sometimes I do. Also I am cold, both in the touching and being touched.
The cheese of the yak and pancakes.
The ritual of the dating. I do not understand the trapping of the boy with the bait of flirtation...it seems to me not honorable.
Boarding on the snow is maxed out totally to the awesome.
Math. Numbers are the mountain beneath the snow.
Shiver™ is my wooly mammoth. Her feelings being the kind not so easily punctured.