Brown Sugar Bard

Brown Sugar • Amber • Pistachio • Sandalwood
 
She never stayed anywhere long, but you always knew when she’d been there. Laughter still caught in the beams of the ceiling, a forgotten melody curling at the edge of the air like something half-sung and half-smiled.
 
The space she left behind smelled like sweet brown sugar and golden amber—warm and lingering, like the last light before evening settles. Pistachio added something unexpected—soft and bright, a little out of place in the best possible way—while sandalwood rested low and steady beneath it all, like the worn neck of a well-loved lute.
 
She moved through the world to a rhythm only she could hear—telling stories too brightly, singing songs too sweet, and leaving behind the kind of sweetness that made people smile without meaning to.
 
For the Wanderer with a Tune All Her Own.