I may capture your artistic vision, line by line, or summon danger, in a duel’s design. You might find me in art class or the Wild West, but in both, I test your hand, and your best.

It is, arguably, the most expressive mountain in the world

I'm slang for one's prison history or something your girlfriend takes and never gives back. Everyone uses me at one point, and I rest upon your back. I can be a light coat or even Full Metal, where Pyle is kinda wack.

I creep without legs, slow but sure, A frozen river, ancient and pure. I carve valleys without hands, leave scars in stone, Carry giants where they’re never known. I whisper in creaks, I roar in collapse, Time rides my back in icy maps.

I hung in gardens of emperors and kings, A jewel of purple in medieval springs. Preserved in brandy, baked into a pie, Sought by monks where old orchards lie. Not apple nor pear, though kin I assume What fruit am I?