Green

Clover smells like a sun-warmed meadow on a lazy summer afternoon. Imagine crushed green stems releasing a slightly sweet, herbaceous aroma—fresh like cut grass, but softer and almost powdery. There's a delicate floralness underneath, reminiscent of honey without being sticky, with whispers of vanilla and hay. It's gentle and approachable, never sharp or aggressive, evoking childhood memories of rolling through fields and clover chains made for bracelets.

Green

Moss smells like the cool, earthy embrace of a forest floor after rainfall. Imagine pressing your nose against damp bark and decomposing leaves—there's a mineral, slightly sweet green quality, reminiscent of petrichor mixed with crushed ferns and old stone. It's neither floral nor fruity, but rather a subtle, velvety earthiness with faint woody undertones, like inhaling the air in a shaded woodland where sunlight barely penetrates.