It's finer than lace, from a spinner's warm embrace. Soft as a cloud on a breezy day, it whispers gently, come what may.

I touch the earth and I touch the sky, but if I touch you, you’ll likely die. What am I?

From awkward youth to elegant sight, I trade dull down for feathers of white. I drift with calm with regal air, but test my patience if you dare

A mythical creature that farts rainbows. The most notable one went on a quest to reach Candy Mountain.

I walked the earth in ages past, through eras far too old to last. Some wore feathers, some wore scales, now I survive in bones and tales.