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I can howl, cut, and bite, but I can also be gentle, light, and remain out of sight. You may feel me in certain weather and praise me in the summer, yet you will scold my existence when fall brings rain or snow.
A room of red with no way in, my walls are paper-thin. Inside you will find only white, and maybe a few babies within. In the middle of my roof there is a chimney, you will find no jobs within me.
A man turns left three times, but won't go home because of the masked man. What is this game?
I emerge in the presence of light, and am as dark as night. My shape constantly changes, and at times I vanish.
A yummy treat of the color yellow, I may be made to make a path that's hard to navigate; I am also a homonym of such a path.
You may kill me, but you cannot stop me; I am often wasted, yet I remain your most valuable resource. I have always existed.
I have a mouth but do not speak, a bank but no money, and a bed but never sleep.
Back and forth with a bow, you use me to make sweet sounds.
I can howl, cut, and bite, but I can also be gentle, light, and remain out of sight. You may feel me in certain weather and praise me in the summer, yet you will scold my existence when fall brings rain or snow.