The thousand-headed monster returns

I smell dragon breath.

It comes in the form of an oft-repeated question that the friends of my newly found beloved pose to me within the first few minutes of every encounter.

"Do you climb?"

I'm at a loss for an answer, but the significance of the question is slowly starting to dawn on me. The climbing theme gets a lot of air play in my beloved's modus operandi.

I formulate an answer that seems to satisfy what sounds more like a statement than a question.

"Not yet!"

The thousand-headed monster of fear is peering at me with evil intent.