Curled into a circle, I hang with cheer, a touch of the forest, bringing the season near. Sometimes I celebrate, sometimes Im placed to grieve, on doors or tables, I take my leave.

In the original I was not a girl, rather I was a woman of old, but the bears wouldn't digest me, so someone suggested, that this character be made a young girl. Lock the front door, and put your food away, as She cares not for what is not hers.

Named for wolves, yet I live inside you, A pointed spear, able to tear through. When bared I am a cornerstone.

I’m no horse of course, though I’m often confused, I carry your burdens and still get accused. My voice is a laugh, my ears steal the show, I’m smarter than people are willing to know.

No one knows why it crossed the road... No one knows which came first... Sasly, this bird don't fly... Who am I, with such awesome thighs?