A grain from sea, now dried and white, with pepper near, I make things taste right.

When the food tastes too good, it's personified. It's something taken from the recently died. The tide takes my prints, but I have two each. I'm the part of you left after a walk on the beach.

Batman, protector of Gotham, Always behind you, Hiding in his natural habitat, The ...

Two bodies have I, though both joined in one; the longer I stand the quicker I run. What am I?

The quicker picker upper, I’m the reward at a pirate’s plunder; The booty, the loot, the harvest’s reap, all of these lead to me; My last comes from the old West, a wanted sign posts me in dollars.