Answer:
When the horse strokes the cat, the wood begins to sing.
I march before armies, a thousand salute me. My fall can bring victory, but no one would shoot me. The wind is my lover, one-Βlegged am I. Name me and see me at home in the sky.
I am the outstretched fingers that seize and hold the wind. Wisdom flows from me in other hands. Upon me are sweet dreams, my merest touch brings laughter
What is it that was given to you, belongs only to you. And yet your friends use it more than you do?
I have a face, yet no senses. But I don't really care, because time is of the essence.
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