Treazon

Treazon opens with an unsettling clash of bright spice—cinnamon and star anise—threaded through crisp birch and fir that smell like torn bark and resinous cold. Black currant cuts in, tart and almost green. The heart softens into tuberose's creamy, almost damp warmth, anchored by orange blossom's honeyed skin and a whisper of iris powder. Beneath, hyrax adds an animalic rasp—leathery, slightly urinous—while benzoin's burnt sweetness and massoia's warm, woody coconut drift in to ground the drift, turning skin-warm and faintly strange at the close.