Answer:
They have not flesh, nor feathers, nor scales, nor bone. Yet they have fingers and thumbs of their own.
What tastes better than it smells?
My thunder comes before the lightning. My lightning comes before the clouds. My rain dries all the land it touches.
I can be written, I can be spoken, I can be exposed, I can be broken.
A tiny bead, like fragile glass, strung along a cord of grass.
Black we are and much admired. Many seek us if they are tired. We tire the horse, and comfort man, and turn White when we've fulfilled your plan.