You don’t want to miss me, or be late again. Remove my first three letters and I’ll soothe your skin.

I am an odd number, and in my prime. But, most of me is even.

I am always ahead but never seen, I'm promised to all,yet belong to none You can chase me but never reach me, For once I arrive, I am already gone

My first three are a friendly pet, a favorite of witches when their fur is jet. My last six are upstanding sorts, of wood or stone they make sublime supports. The whole of me is a hungry chap, who often dreams of having wings to flap.

I am a flat space, I make a flat plank, and I fly. An expanse of grass sounds like me, but it's not I.