I have a skin but no bones, I have a heart but no blood. I am born in a cluster, but I can die alone in the sun to become something else. I am the blood of kings. Yet if you step on me, I do not cry, only let out a little wine.

A tiny knight on a fabric quest, holds layers firm with metal zest. Secure yet small, it stands its ground, keeping your style neatly bound.

Supreme I stand above all else. The place every climber seeks. Ambitious people aim for me. I can dress you as well.

I am a wooden boat that never sails, rocking gently as the daylight fails. I hold a treasure, small and sweet, though I have no hands and have no feet.

I trim your nails, or sail the sea, what am I that both can be?