Small and sharp, I’m made to stab. In belt or boot, I’m often hid. Shorter than a sword, What am I?

In the grass I stand so bright, A yellow sun in morning light. But when I turn all white and gray, You’ll huff and puff me far away.

A little shake, a fiery flair, I sit with salt most everywhere.

Find me in caves Along with my brother Don't mix up our names We're not one another We may both be sharp And hard to recall I'm surely the best And above it all

I’m a part of you. Hard to pick off but not impossible. I’m small and skinny. What am I?