Green

Lemongrass smells like someone's just crushed a handful of fresh lemon zest between their fingers, but with an herbaceous twist—there's a grassy, almost hay-like undertone that keeps it from being purely citrus. It's brighter and sharper than a lemon itself, with a slightly peppery, almost minty freshness that makes your nose tingle pleasantly. Imagine walking through a tropical garden after rain, where citrus trees meet dried herbs. There's a clean, almost soapy quality that feels simultaneously tart and green.

Woody

Rosewood smells like walking through a freshly sanded furniture workshop—warm, creamy, and gently sweet, but distinctly wooden rather than floral. Imagine the aroma of a pencil shaving mixed with subtle cinnamon warmth and a whisper of something almost creamy, like sandalwood's mellower cousin. It's soft and approachable, lacking harshness; rather like inhaling the scent of polished mahogany with a touch of honeyed spice underneath. There's an inherent smoothness that feels both elegant and grounding.