In shadows I dwell, where the ancients sleep, With whispers of fire, my secrets I keep. A guardian of treasures, both precious and rare. In myths I am woven, a creature of air.

I have waves and an abundance of space, but I do not have enough water. I am known for my dryness.

Originally known for my love of the hunt, now my notoriety has gotten a shunt. No mention of the sting that I felt, for now I’m most known because of my belt.

I dance in the dark, a tiny, fleeting gleam, No ignition have I, yet I light up the dream. I carry my lantern, but have no oil to fill, A summer night's wonder, silent and still.

Add an S and I’m either on your foot OR Shooting liquid to wash off soot But truly I carve out space for roots