Find me at your core, Or through which an African or Indian beast would snore, Or in which your clothing to store, Or from which a mighty oak's branches can soar. If you add eight to me I sound awfully short. What am I ?

A large body of water, close to the sea and surrounded by cliffs and rockfaces, in which you might find a small bird...

Where corvids come to to drink al'caw'hol.

I am a companion to your light, a mimic of your form. Ever close, yet never touch, and vanish at the break of dawn.

I’m a meat eating theropod from the late Cretaceous, I might have been bigger than T Rex and just as ferocious. If you’re not sure how to spell me, just ask any eight year old with a dinosaur jammie.