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.

Woody

White woods smell like the clean, almost silvery heart of freshly sawn timber—imagine walking into a high-end carpentry workshop where pale birch or ash has just been cut. There's a subtle coolness here, almost minty-fresh, paired with a dry, slightly powdery quality reminiscent of cedarwood but airier and less resinous. It's the olfactory equivalent of pale sunlight filtering through a sparse forest. Some describe it as having a whisper of aldehydes—that soapy, slightly metallic brightness you'd find in expensive laundry water. It's refined, almost ethereal, and never heavy.