Answer:
Thousands of these come together to make a digital image. What is it?
I love to dance and twist and prance. I shake my tail, as away I sail. Wingless I fly into the sky.
With pointed fangs it sits in wait. With piercing force it doles out fate, over bloodless victims proclaiming its might. Eternally joining in a single bite.
Used left or right, I get to travel over cobblestone or gravel. Used up, I vie for sweet success, used down, I cause men great duress.
What do people want the least on their hands?
How can you tell when a mummy has a cold?