Fumabat

Galbanum and mint split open into a cool, almost herbal gasp—green tea floating beneath like steam off wet leaves. The heart pulls earthier as carnation's spice and pine needles emerge, grounding the brightness. Fumabat settles into something worn and meditative: oakmoss and vetiver anchor deep, while olibanum smolders gently, leather creases against skin, and patchouli darkens the base. Smoke drifts through it all—not sharp, but lingering like the tail of incense in a room long after it's burned, until leather and dry vetiver root everything to earth.