AN MORRIGAN

Born of prophecy and battle-wind, this scent rises dark and knowing, carried on the hush before blood is spilled. It smells of omens read in flight and shadow, of desire sharpened into fate, and of sovereignty claimed through transformation rather than rule. This is power that watches, waits, and chooses.

Heather – Wild and wind-brushed, purple with resilience. The beauty of the moor under open sky, stubborn and untamed, thriving where others falter.

Blackberry – Dark and ripe, stained with sweetness and thorn. Temptation and violence intertwined, the taste of victory edged with blood.

Musk – Animal and intimate, close to skin and breath. The pull of instinct, the truth beneath titles and promises.

Leather – Worn and commanding, supple with use. Armor and sovereignty fused, the scent of readiness and unflinching resolve.

Sacred Forests – Deep, green, and ancient, layered with moss and shadow. The presence of old places where fate is decided and remembered long after names fade.

She is the cry on the battlefield and the silence that follows, the chooser of endings and beginnings alike. The scent lingers like ravens circling at dusk—feral, prophetic, and impossible to deny.