Answer:
Some live in me, some live on. And some shave me to stride upon. I rarely leave my native land. Until my death I always stand. High and low I may be found. Both above and below ground.
As I walked along the path I saw something with four fingers and one thumb, but it was not flesh, fish, bone or fowl.
He stands beside the road. In a purple cap at tattered green cloak. Those who touch him, curse him.
What gets wet while drying?
Thirty white horses on a red hill, First they champ, Then they stamp, Then they stand still.
Dark, feathery, and popular in Baltimore and fantasy books.