Black Stone

Pine needles crack and splinter under foot as Black Stone opens, their resinous bite sharpened by agarwood's smoky depth and labdanum's amber-sweet grip. The green sharpness softens as tuberose blooms heavy and creamy, flanked by jasmine's indolic whisper and the pale, almost watery green of lily-of-the-valley. What emerges is an odd sweetness—honeyed florals tethered to stone and smoke. The base settles into musk, soft and skin-close, carrying the fading warmth of those dark resins into a tender, animalic drydown.