Answer:
I help you carry your books.
I am a mountain at night, meadow at day. What am I?
Sometimes dark and sometimes bright I make my way among twinkling lights. Seas and oceans obey my call yet mountains I cannot move at all. My face is marred and gray But I'm majestic anyway
I fly forever Rest never.
Die without me, never thank me. Walk right through me, never feel me. What am I?
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?