Citrus

Calamondin smells like a brighter, sharper cousin of mandarin—imagine biting into a small, intensely acidic citrus fruit on a humid tropical morning. There's a piercing green-orange zestiness, almost lime-like in its tartness, but with creamy, waxy undertones reminiscent of bitter orange peel. It's less sweet than orange and more austere than lemon; imagine the puckering brightness of seville orange crossed with the green, slightly herbaceous snap of unripe citrus. The aroma is simultaneously juicy and dry, with a faint floral whisper.

Woody

Ebony smells like the dark, polished wood of a grand piano—rich, austere, and deeply mineral. Imagine walking into an exclusive library where ancient hardwood furniture has absorbed decades of leather-bound silence. There's a slight smoky undertone, almost like the faint char of expensive wood shavings, paired with an earthy dryness that recalls freshly sanded timber. It's sophisticated without being sweet, possessing an almost austere, ink-like quality that feels noble and withdrawn.