Citrus

Blueberry is deceptively subtle—nothing like biting into the fruit itself. Imagine the wispy sweetness of berry jam at the moment it's being made, before it darkens and concentrates. There's a faint powdery quality, almost like dusting your fingers with icing sugar mixed with crushed violet leaves. The scent whispers rather than shouts: slightly tart, gently fruity, with an underlying earthy undertone reminiscent of wet soil after rain. It's more perfume-sketch than photorealistic berry—ethereal and impressionistic.

Citrus

Woodland strawberry smells like sun-warmed berries crushed between your fingers—tart, slightly jammy, with a whisper of green leaf underneath. There's a delicate tartness reminiscent of biting into a fresh strawberry, but softer, more perfumed than the actual fruit. It carries subtle citrus undertones (hence its classification), lending a brightness that feels almost ethereal, like the berry has been kissed by morning dew and filtered through woodland air. It's never cloying or candied—more like the fleeting scent of a strawberry patch in midsummer.