The fire crackles, casting flickers on wide-eyed faces as voices drop to a whisper. Blood orange zest drifts through the air—the final taste of sweetness before the tale takes a turn.
A heart of toasted vanilla bean and cade smoke smolders, drifting like memory itself—comforting, until it isn’t. Grounded by charred birchwood and black patchouli, the scent lingers like the last sentence of a story you didn’t see coming.
Tales from the Hood is equal parts nostalgia and flickering unease, a fireside fragrance where every shadow might be hiding a story.