Ouija and Rio are short, in the race. Warts the name of that white head with red spots they chase? A croaker, not Kermit A mushroom with face.

I drift across the silent ground, a gentle glow without a sound. Born of distant fire, yet still I gleam, a borrowed light, a midnight dream.

Slow and sturdy and also lively, Lived for centuries but not ready to party. Enjoyed slow walks and also munching daily

I will suck you in. Spaghetti for lunch. Gravity? Well I have a bunch. Time dilates, much like an eye. Get too close and say goodbye.

I swallow the unwary, but have no mouth. I hold you fast, but have no hands. The more you struggle, the deeper you sink. What am I?