Fresh

Acridity is sharp, almost aggressive freshness—imagine biting into unripe citrus peel or the piercing green snap of crushed grass after rain. It's not sweet or juicy; instead, it carries a slight metallic, almost peppery bite that catches the back of your throat pleasantly. Think of walking through a garden where herbs have just been bruised underfoot, releasing that raw, almost astringent green volatility. It's confrontational in the best way: bracing rather than comforting.

Woody

Musk is the scent of warmth itself—imagine the gentle heat radiating from skin after exercise, mingled with soft suede and a whisper of vanilla. It's deeply intimate rather than floral or sharp; think of wrapping yourself in a cashmere blanket warmed by the sun, with a faint animalic undertone that's almost imperceptible. Pure musk has a powdery, almost imperceptible sweetness, like the inside of a lover's wrist or the comfort of well-loved fabric. It doesn't announce itself boldly; instead, it envelops and lingers on your skin like a second layer.