Answer:
Stealthy as a shadow in the dead of night, cunning but affectionate if given a bite. Never owned but often loved. At my sport considered cruel, but that's because you never know me at all.
Lighter than what I am made of, More of me is hidden Than is seen.
What tastes better than it smells?
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...
What is lighter than what it is made of?
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?