Oriental

Omani frankincense smells like walking into an ancient temple at dawn. Imagine warm, slightly peppery resin with a honeyed undertone—reminiscent of burnt amber mixed with subtle lemon zest and a whisper of smoke. There's an almost medicinal clarity to it, like inhaling the steam from spiced tea, yet it remains deeply sensual and creamy. It's both austere and comforting, with a dry, woody quality that feels both mysterious and somehow familiar, as if you've encountered it in incense smoke drifting through a sacred space.

Oriental

Spanish labdanum smells like warm, resinous amber kissed by sun-baked stone. Imagine honey that's been drizzled over leather and left to caramelize in the heat—sticky, slightly smoky, with undertones of incense and dried tobacco. There's a honeyed sweetness lurking beneath an almost animalic earthiness, reminiscent of walking into a centuries-old church filled with burning candles and wooden pews. It's hedonistic and slightly intoxicating, never delicate.