When I was a kid, 25 or so years ago, there was an old man Frank, that lived in my great grandparent's woods. He was a friend of the family for many years prior, and earned his keep and a little extra money by doing odd jobs for everyone. Frank had always been an outdoorsman, and he preferred to live off the land. One winter Frank stayed out hunting in the cold air for a little too long and got severe frostbite on his ears. The top of his ears curled up right to a point -- permanently. You might call Frank a hobo, or a hermit, but if Frank were around today he'd be accused of attempting an Elven body mod.