Woody

Amber smells like warmth itself has been bottled. Imagine sun-baked resin, honey left out on a hot day, and the comforting scent of your skin after lying on a warm blanket. There's sweetness here—almost vanilla-like—but deeper, earthier, with hints of powdered spices and the faint smokiness of incense. It's simultaneously creamy and slightly bitter, like caramelised sugar with a woody undertone. It wraps around you like cashmere, never sharp or jarring.

Green

Dust is deceptively subtle—imagine walking into an old library where sunlight streams through tall windows, catching particles in the air. It smells like the mineral earthiness of concrete after a dry spell, mixed with the faint staleness of undisturbed corners and aged paper. There's a green, slightly metallic quality, reminiscent of disturbed soil or the smell of stone when you brush your hand across it. It's not unpleasant; rather, it carries a dry, almost papery crispness with whispers of geranium leaf and dry hay—nostalgic, quiet, and unexpectedly grounding.