Answer:
I have three hundred cattle, with a single nose cord
White bird, featherless, flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand.
What do you purposefully put lots of in and on your body, but run away from when you encounter it outside?
What must be in the oven yet can not be baked? Grows in the heat yet shuns the light of day? What sinks in water but rises with air? Looks like skin but is fine as hair?
The more of them you take, the more you leave behind. What are they?