You may register for me, you may inherit me. You may steal me, you may buy me. I’m here to perform a job for you and while you will wear me, you’ll never wear me out but you will likely wear me thin.

Babbling beggar? Flower in a square? Bend to my mouth, I spit in the air.

I fall from flight, gently drifting to the ground, no longer keeping its origin afloat. I keep you warm, bundled tight, I quiver on an arrow’s delight. I help divine the wind’s path, and am soft and gentle to the touch.

I stand on legs but never roam, A steady heart of work and home. I hold your meals, your cards, your tales, Your books, your crafts, your scales and scales. From dinners shared to games and fable, You gather around me when you’re able. What am I, sturdy, firm, and stable?

The first half of me is a group of musicians, The second half of me tells us how long something has been around. Put them together and I am the stopper of flowing fluid.