When liquid splashes me, none seeps through.
When I am moved a lot, liquid I spew.
When I am hit, color I change.
And color, I come in quite a range.
What I cover is very complex, and I am very easy to flex.
What am I?
My first letter is in follow but not in lead, and the second is in write but not in read.
My third letter is in sky but not in cloud, my fourth is in humble but not in proud.
My all makes circles in a bowl, or lies on a plate cooked up whole.
What am I?
Marble walls as white as milk, lined with skin as soft as silk, in a fountain crystal clear, a golden apple will appear, there is no key to this stronghold, yet theives break in and steal the gold. What is it?