This little forest sprite knows everything there is to know about forest magic.
He wears an old pointed hat β as all proper wizards must. It's a hat with history: dark, creased at the crown, sitting slightly askew over his branching antlers. In one paw he holds a magic wand β wooden, carved from a forest branch, with a character of its own. In his other paw sits an owl. White, snowy, with watchful amber eyes. She doesn't fly away. Apparently she knows a thing or two about this forest herself.
Forest magic, they say, is a particular kind. It doesn't come from books or incantations. It comes from the whisper of wind in the canopy, from the smell of wet bark after rain, from that particular feeling when you walk through the forest at dusk and suddenly understand that the forest is watching you back. The Forest Sprite Wizard lives at the very heart of that knowing.
The owl helps him find his way in the dark. The wand helps him direct what would otherwise scatter in all directions. The hat β well, the hat is for gravitas. A wizard without a hat is just a forest sprite with a stick.
Place him on a shelf and he will watch you with green eyes from beneath his hat brim. Calmly, and with a touch of mystery. As though he already knows what you're looking for.
Perhaps he does.