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32,00€
Born in the forest workshop, handcrafted in cold porcelain, he's full of those tiny imperfections that make him feel real. He's 21 cm tall and still struts around like a little conqueror. He wears a yellow hat, a Scottish tartan suit, and the dreamiest little face, one that lights up whenever a shiny button goes rolling across the floor, as if treasure had just dropped out of the sky.
By day he acts all absent-minded, but at night he prowls around washing lines and jackets, rescuing loose buttons before they end up in the bin. He says cities are far too buttoned-up, and the woods breathe better with a bit of fog. If you catch him in the act, he'll grin, say hello like it's no big deal, and offer you tea in a chipped cup, because it tastes more real that way.
- He sorts his haul by sparkle, not by size, the shine calls the shots.
- He listens to rain tapping on tin to decide which pocket to explore next.
- Sometimes he sews one back onto somebody else's coat, just to see that look of surprise.
When someone loses an important button, he already knows. The stray cats tip him off, those nosy little philosophers. Then he leaves behind a ridiculous clue, a glint beside a crack in the pavement where grass is growing, and wanders off happy, feeling like he's won one more battle against human forgetfulness.
