It is your 173rd winter. Once, many decades ago when you were sick, a friend brought you a pomme d'amber as a healing charm. A thoughtful gift, you loved the sweet fragrance and marveled at how the fruit never molded. Your family prayed every day for your healing. Perhaps their prayers were answered. Perhaps the fragrant ball was infused with too much clove, which the traders' fantastical stories say the Egyptians used for embalming. Or perhaps you were always destined to live this eternal life.
Spicy, warm, and clean. Freshly crushed clove buds, overripe orange, fig, cypress, cinnamon, and cassia root.