Green

Green tea smells fresh, slightly grassy, and delicately herbaceous—imagine steaming a cup of premium sencha and catching that initial vaporous breath. It's herbaceous without being medicinal, with subtle vegetal sweetness reminiscent of fresh-cut grass after rain, dried hay, and a whisper of subtle bitterness. There's an almost powdery, mineral quality that feels clean and contemplative. It's nothing like the floral sweetness of other florals; instead, it's crisp, refined, and vaguely astringent on the nose.

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.