A deep forest exhale—aged cedarwood and dry vetiver roots entwined with the smoky whispers of charred sandalwood. Patchouli’s earthy richness lingers like moss on oak bark, while a trail of pine resin glistens in the cold air. This is the scent of time-worn libraries, of campfire embers fading into starless nights, and of sun-bleached driftwood carried ashore by patient tides.
