SCANLAN SHORTHALT

Fruit and earth hit at the same time, bright and indulgent, like a party that starts before anyone else arrives. This one is playful, vain in a charming way, and just a little chaotic, which fits Scanlan Shorthalt without pushing too hard.

Patchouli – Earthy and musky. The lingering scent of spell smoke, ego, and someone who has seen more than he lets on.

Wild Strawberry – Jammy and sweet, a little wild around the edges. Flirting, impulse, and the desire to be adored.

Red Wine – Dark and tannic with slow warmth. Late-night songs, slurred confessions, and confidence that swells after the second glass.

Fig Leaf – Green and milky, grounding the sweetness. Small moments of sincerity, loyalty hidden under bravado, and the rare times he actually listens.

As it settles, there is the sense of laughter echoing through tavern rafters, someone tuning a lute with a flourish, and the realization that beneath all the jokes and swagger is a heart that cares far more than it ever planned to.