The note unfolds with an immediate, profound intensity, a dry, almost arid embrace that conjures visions of sun-baked earth and charred wood. It possesses a deeply aromatic, balsamic smokiness, reminiscent of smoldering embers and distant wildfires, rather than a sharp, acrid soot. Beneath the initial plume of smoke, one discerns the intricate, resinous character of the Mediterranean maquis itself: the spicy, leathery warmth of Cistus labdanum, the herbaceous tenacity of Immortelle, the dry, slightly medicinal whisper of myrtle, and the green-resinous snap of lentisk. There's an underlying phenolic warmth, hinting at a tar-like richness, yet it remains distinctly clean and vital, not heavy or suffocating. The texture is rough, almost coarse, like aged leather or sun-scorched bark, with a persistent, dry sillage. It projects with a commanding presence, not overwhelming, but deeply resonant, settling as a long-lasting, complex base note that evolves from fiery intensity to a more subdued, earthy warmth, clinging to the skin for hours, even days.