A small container, in an out of the way place, not in the thorns, behind the log, near Riddle Ln.
At night they come without being fetched. By day they are lost without being stolen. What are they?
I fly without wings, I cry without eyes. What am I?
The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?
I can be long, or I can be short. I can be grown, and I can be bought. I can be painted, or left bare. I can be round, or square. What am I?
I'm simple for a few people But hard for them to hear I live inside of secrets I bring people's worst fears What am I?
I'm tall when I'm young, I'm short when I'm old. What am I?