You'll find me in the darkest caves, trickling forth in cleansing waves. Sometimes I grow too much, too quick, and block the path with amber ick. Spelunkers come, lanky and pale, they try to best me and often fail.

I make single letters in to words, but I am not made of words without you. You might see me in front of you when making a guess after the clue.

I begin with a bang, though my flight is quiet. I have a head and a body, but no face to speak. Loaded with purpose, I travel with immense speed. My mark is often final, a testament to my swift deed. What am I?

Pass me if you want to represent. Come to me to order anisette. I might be dry, might be wet. Raise me if you want more to get.

I've got many teeth, but never chew; I can come in wood or plastic. You pick me up to fix your 'do; I'm a simple tool, not drastic.