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In the woods we call him shy, but really he's quiet by choice. He stays close to the soft shadows, like mist when the forest breathes, and still those bright dreamy eyes give him away. He looks at the world as if it were a story waiting to be finished.
He's about 20cm tall with red hair, the kind of red you get from a twig in the fire or a sunset that lingers. When he thinks no one's watching, he leaves stars in his wake, like someone dropping breadcrumbs to find the way home. And yes, he carries one dangling from his hand, ready for whenever it's needed. Not for drama, just from a habit of a good heart.
- He gets lost listening to rain on tin cans and dry leaves.
- He says a quiet hello to kids, but inside he's having a little party.
- He keeps spare stars in silly places, inside chipped teacups.
If you find him standing still, don't rush him. He's working out where to put the next spark so someone's day turns around without them even noticing.
