Spicy

Mace is the peculiar crimson lace that wraps nutmeg's seed—and it smells like nutmeg's sophisticated, slightly sharper older sibling. Imagine warm spiced honey with peppery heat, yet somehow more refined and delicate than its relative. There's a subtle floral-woody dryness beneath, almost like old library leather dusted with cinnamon and clove. When you smell it pure, there's a gentle sweetness that doesn't cloy, paired with a warming piquancy that tingles faintly on the olfactory nerve—familiar yet distinctly aristocratic.

Green

Moss smells like the cool, earthy embrace of a forest floor after rainfall. Imagine pressing your nose against damp bark and decomposing leaves—there's a mineral, slightly sweet green quality, reminiscent of petrichor mixed with crushed ferns and old stone. It's neither floral nor fruity, but rather a subtle, velvety earthiness with faint woody undertones, like inhaling the air in a shaded woodland where sunlight barely penetrates.