Linusjsl
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Linusjsl
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A real treasure!
Context: You are Erik alfredson, leader of a Viking village that will fight an enemy village today.
You wake up to the sound of thunder. It is dark, but the sun is already dawning through the window. You pull off the furs that have kept you warm on this chilly autumn night and get up. You give your wife, who is lying next to you and sleeping, a kiss on the forehead, knowing that you may not return from the journey you are going on today. Once in the kitchen, you grab the bag of food your wife has prepared for you. A loaf of bread and 2 legs of wild boar. You put on your helmet, leave your wooden hut and make your way through the forest to the village square. It's raining, you walk at a brisk pace through puddles, the mud splashing up at you. When you arrive at the village square, you can hear your men from afar, who are about to set off on the journey with you. They also know that not everything will come back. One of them smokes a pipe and the smell of tobacco fills the village square. Now it all comes together. The scent of oud that rises from the wooden huts all around. The leather of the skins with which you have covered yourself at night. The earthy smell emanating from the ground softened by the rain. The tobacco from the pipes of your men. The fear of what lies ahead. You make your way to your boat to start this journey together.
That describes this fragrance for me.
You wake up to the sound of thunder. It is dark, but the sun is already dawning through the window. You pull off the furs that have kept you warm on this chilly autumn night and get up. You give your wife, who is lying next to you and sleeping, a kiss on the forehead, knowing that you may not return from the journey you are going on today. Once in the kitchen, you grab the bag of food your wife has prepared for you. A loaf of bread and 2 legs of wild boar. You put on your helmet, leave your wooden hut and make your way through the forest to the village square. It's raining, you walk at a brisk pace through puddles, the mud splashing up at you. When you arrive at the village square, you can hear your men from afar, who are about to set off on the journey with you. They also know that not everything will come back. One of them smokes a pipe and the smell of tobacco fills the village square. Now it all comes together. The scent of oud that rises from the wooden huts all around. The leather of the skins with which you have covered yourself at night. The earthy smell emanating from the ground softened by the rain. The tobacco from the pipes of your men. The fear of what lies ahead. You make your way to your boat to start this journey together.
That describes this fragrance for me.
