These three sounds compose me: My first is the prefix to do once again. My second begins a Pokemon type that Ness had in spades. My last, some hear in the wild, and all hear from nature. Finally, consider these hints as three arrows guiding you.

I hung in gardens of emperors and kings, A jewel of purple in medieval springs. Preserved in brandy, baked into a pie, Sought by monks where old orchards lie. Not apple nor pear, though kin I assume What fruit am I?

My children sound like where I empty my bowels, My middle is made of the very first vowel, Use 'big' before me and I swell with pride, Beloved by many; I am known far and wide.

I can be a solid, liquid, or venom. Clone me and I'm solid with 'us', but the real me? I'm naked. You can find me in a box, yet to some, I'm invisible.

I travel the world but never walk You can hear me but I can’t talk I carve mountains grain by grain And can shape deserts without touching sand