Green

Oakmoss smells like standing in an ancient forest after rain—earthy, slightly bitter, with a dry, woody undertone reminiscent of damp bark and lichen-covered stones. There's a faint greenness to it, almost herbaceous, mixed with something mineral and slightly musty, like opening a wooden chest that's been sealed for years. It's not fresh or sharp; rather, it's contemplative and deeply grounded, with whispers of leather and tea leaves underneath.

Floral

Orris root smells like powdered iris flowers left to dry in a sunlit linen cupboard—delicate, almost chalky, with a whisper of violet and a faint woody earthiness underneath. Imagine freshly ironed fabric with a dusting of talcum powder and a subtle sweetness reminiscent of old-fashioned face powder or the gentle floral smell of a grandmother's dressing table. It's refined and slightly peppery, never heavy or cloying; instead it feels airy and intimate.