I grow round and orange under the sun, carved with a grin when the fall is begun. I sit on porches or float in a stew, what am I, that Halloween loves too?

With my armour I'm like a living stone the path that is sideways is my own my claws grasp those who cannot flee every animal will become like me

I’m four that act as one. One grows, one glows, one reaps, one sleeps. Yet, we circle back without a wheel. What am I?

I'm a good servant but a bad master. The forest feeds me but water kills me.

We guide and separate, we divide and devastate, we make much noise but never speak with our mouths.