Answer:
The eight of us move forth and back. To protect our king from the foes attack.
Always old, sometimes new. Never sad, sometimes blue. Never empty, sometimes full. Never pushes, always pulls.
Do you know what you can hold without ever touching it?
I count time, but have no end. Tick tick, but I am not a clock. What am I?
I am never quite what I appear to be. Straight-forward I seem, but it's only skin deep. For mystery most often lies beneath my simple speech. Sharpen your wits, open your eyes, look beyond my exteriors, read me backwards, forwards, upside down. Think and answer the question...
Often cooked as fillet, this meat comes from an animal that swims underwater.