I'm a beast of myth, a rhyming feat, Said to shake the earth with massive feet. My name's a word for something grand and vast, A creature whose power is meant to last. What am I?

I carry two swords but am gentle by nature. I fear nothing, except a mouse maybe? I speak in a voice so deep and low, that human ears will never know. My memory is famously excellent, Have you guessed, I am an ...

Arr, in the orchard where legends be told, A treasure awaits with skin o' red and gold. Aye, it be crisp and sound when ye bite, Whispers o' knowledge from a tale-taking sprite.

I'm the color before a nut, one that spreads well. When used before wood, I'm the crafty kind. Following a witch, my astringent touch is used in beauty's name.

I shed my past without regret, slipping through grass without a step.