The potter shapes with careful hand, a spinning wheel at their command. But soft and damp will never last, I finish what their fingers cast. Through patient heat, I seal the art, what am I that plays this part?

I stamp things shut so none may pry, or bask and bark where sea meets sky. On wax I rest or waves I feel, both mark and beast, what am I?

I am a tool used to row, but I sound like a choice between two. I help you move through the water, but I am not a motor. What am I?

Elsa really wants to build me. And Sven likes my nose a bit to much.

Water or walk-in. Shut my door when you're done. Inside me sometimes there's a skeleton. Remove my last letter: you're near or you shut. Remove first and last: I'm a win undercut.