Woody

Cypress smells like walking through a Mediterranean forest on a crisp autumn morning. It's dry and slightly resinous, reminiscent of pencil shavings and cedarwood, but with a distinctly herbaceous, almost minty freshness that catches the back of your nose. There's an underlying earthiness—the smell of weathered wood and dry leaves—mixed with a subtle piney sweetness. It's not heavy or oppressive; rather, it's clean and grounding, with a whisper of incense-like smokiness that feels both ancient and somehow austere.

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.