Answer:
Through its wounds, water does run. It once held many but now has none. What is it?
What kind of running means walking?
Three lives have I. Gentle enough to soothe the skin. Light enough to caress the sky. Hard enough to crack rocks.
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...
To cross the water I'm the way, for water I'm above. I touch it not and, truth to say, I neither swim nor move.
How can you add eight 6s together so that the total adds up to 750?