Across
- 2. - I march at dawn in memory, poppies whispering over names etched in stone. What am I?
- 4. - I’m not alive, but I grow; I don’t have lungs, but I need air; I don’t have a mouth, but water kills me. What am I?
- 6. - I was born in Texas, but my legend lives in mountains. My coolers are beasts, my bottles unbreakable. What am I?
- 9. - My iron tower was once mocked, my cafés hum with art, and my language is called the tongue of love. What am I?
- 10. - I chase an oval storm, tackle with shoulders of courage, and kick goals through twin trees. What am I?
- 12. - I’m tiny yet curly, bred from royal grace and clever charm. My coat is soft as a cloud, my eyes melt hearts, and I fit in laps like a jewel. What am I?
- 13. - I began as a boat shoe, mocked for my holes, yet embraced for my comfort. My foam molds to feet, my colors shout loud, and my name snaps like a reptile. What am I?
- 14. - If two’s company and three’s a crowd, what are four and five?
Down
- 1. - I can speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I’m made stronger by walls. What am I?
- 3. - I’m a game of seven voices, each with a different duty. Some guard, some guide, some feed, some finish — but none can win alone. Feet must stay honest, passes must be sharp, and the circle decides the score. What am I?
- 5. - I’m full of knowledge but never a teacher; I sit on shelves and open doors to worlds you can’t visit. What am I?
- 7. - I ride giants that never sleep, balancing on moving glass. My racetrack has no end, and each ride writes a new story before it fades. What sport am I?
- 8. - I keep secrets on lines that vanish when wet, then return when dry. What am I?
- 11. - I move worlds without walking; I pull oceans twice a day. What am I?