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.

Fresh

Salicylate smells like the sharp, clean bite of wintergreen sweets—think of those old-fashioned lozenges or the tingle of peppermint toothpaste, but softer and more rounded. There's a medicinal freshness layered with subtle warmth, slightly spicy and vaguely herbal, reminiscent of birch or eucalyptus. It's crisp without being aggressive, with an almost cooling sensation on the olfactory nerves that makes you think of menthol, though it's distinctly its own thing—fresher, greener, slightly herbaceous.