Answer:
They have not flesh, nor feathers, nor scales, nor bone. Yet they have fingers and thumbs of their own. What are they?
The root tops the trunk on this backward thing, that grows in the winter and dies in the spring.
I fly through the air on small feathered wings, seeking out life and destroying all things.
What gets closer when you blink?
I drift forever with the current down these long canals theyβve made, Tame, yet wild, I run elusive Multitasking to your aid. Before I came, the world was darker, colder, sometimes, rougher, true. But though I might make living easy, Iβm good at killing people too.
I have two eyes in the front and a lot of eyes on my tail