I can wrinkle, I can scar, I can change with the years, yet I’m the first line of defense when danger appears.

Spin me from fleece or pull me from a ball, I can measure a garden, a quilt, or a hall. In a fable I’m woven by gossiping queens, Or pulled from a sweater that’s coming apart at the seams.

Sounds come out of the kitchen, what could it be? It stirs your mind and you really want to see. Can't believe your eyes when Seu P. and mister T, getting cozy, close, they're comfy and cuddly.

I'm an important part of a tree, but I can also alert you to a burglary. Without me a tree would be in pain, but you can also hear me at the end of a chain.

Cryptic: Bugs' favourite found in Madagascar, rotting