Answer:
I move without wings, Between silken string, I leave as you find, My substance behind.
It can pierce the best armor and make swords crumble with a rub, yet for all its power It can't harm a wooden club.
What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?
Two little holes in the side of a hill. Just as you come to the cherry-red mill.
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 can only be played on a windy day