Woody

Cistus absolute smells like sun-baked earth after a Mediterranean heatwave—dusty, warm, and slightly resinous with an almost leathery quality. Imagine the scent of hot rock and dried herbs (somewhere between sage and hay), wrapped in a soft, amber-like sweetness. There's something ancient and mineral about it, reminiscent of incense smoke clinging to stone walls, with subtle hints of honey and tobacco leaf. It's grounding without being heavy—more like breathing in the warmth of a hillside than sitting in a forest.

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.