Answer:
Do you know what you can hold without ever touching it?
What do you throw out to use and take in when you're done?
I fly through the air on small feathered wings, seeking out life and destroying all things.
This thing runs but cannot walk, sometimes sings but never talks. Lacks arms, has hands; lacks a head but has a face.
When the horse strokes the cat, the wood begins to sing.
When is it bad luck to see a black cat?