Fresh

Aldehydes smell like a crisp, almost electric freshness—imagine the sharp, waxy brightness of a newly opened bar of soap, or that clean snap you get when you peel the white pith from inside a lemon skin. There's a slightly soapy, almost metallic quality that's oddly luxurious and powdery. They're not quite fruity or citrus themselves, but rather the *idea* of cleanliness—the scent of polished surfaces and starched linen. Some find them slightly peppery or even a touch metallic, like touching a cool stainless steel sink on a bright morning.

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.