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05/25/2021
NuiWhakakore
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NuiWhakakore
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The Eye of the Tiger
He had been terrifying the village for weeks. Hardly a night in which he had not come, silently from the jungle. Then the shrill bleating of a sheep or a goat, the squealing of a pig in its death throes, and then silence again. The next morning then only the bloody traces.
He was Dawon, the holy tiger, but all holiness has an end when it comes to their own lives. And so guards with guns were posted after the tiger attacked Bao. Yet Bao had still been lucky and survived the attack, though his right arm would probably never be the same again.
Anyway, there I was, standing in the darkness, the village at my back, the jungle in front of me. In my sweaty hand the old, heavy carbine, much older than me, slightly rusty on the barrel, but well oiled and undeniably deadly. The moon brought little light and so I listened and smelled everything around me. The spices of dinner from the village were still in the air. The wood was still wet after the last rain shower and the earth was steaming. The dense jungle in front of me was like a black wall in the already black night.
I didn't hear him coming, so quietly he crept up. But I smelled him. Sweet and warm, with the indescribable intensity that only a wild animal has. It smelled attractive and terrifying at the same time. Under its mighty paws, it crushed the wildflowers, so that something almost lovely was in the air as well.
Then suddenly he stood before me. A shadow, only the two eyes glowed golden. They regarded me and I lost myself in their unfathomable depths. Something utterly alien looked at me there: an indifference, no pity or compassion, those are human concepts, only the need to survive. The rifle trembled in my hand. I knew I would not be able to pull the trigger. An eternity we stared at each other, it seemed. But it was only a moment, I guess. Then he came toward me, his animal scent enveloping me completely. I closed my eyes and awaited my end. I felt his fur against my leg, a rough tongue brushed briefly over my hand, and just as silently as he had come, he was gone.
The rifle I left in place. He was Dawon, the holy tiger, I would not be able to shoot him. He had touched me and left me alive. The eye of the tiger had beheld me and now it is impossible for me to forget that this eye sees me.*
Never again do I want to face him.
-------------
Whether there's a tiger hiding in the Lui I don't know, but a big animal it definitely is. And wild it is too, at least at the beginning.
It starts with sweetish spices, clove I detect, some coumarin and cinnamon I suspect. The whole thing is warm and quite pleasant. Then comes the Animalik, probably fed from musk and ambergris, although I can not smell out both explicitly. It hits me like a hammer, which is intense. Underneath is leather and dark, damp wood. The patchouli is also earthy and dark. The only bright spot in this darkly vaporous concoction is the florals, but they also come across as very spicy at the beginning. The silage is also spacey at this point, so there's no escaping it. I couldn't find any citrusy notes.
Over time (so after about 2 hours) the scent becomes calmer and softer. The flowers are now more distinct and not so spicy. The Animalik is but always toneangebend and remains in the foreground. Slightly sweet resins still mix in and so he could slowly fade.
Does he but not with me. In the base (so after 6-7 hours), the fragrance is again really rough. The leather, which was previously only subliminally perceptible, comes out, very animalic and raw. With the woody notes, I could swear there is oud in it, but that's probably just the combination of the different notes.
I quite like subtle animalic notes in fragrances sometimes. Here, however, nothing is discreet, this is hardcore animalic and for fans certainly a pleasure. However, my limit has long been exceeded, I prefer to run away (even if that is probably not the best survival strategy with a tiger).
If he's too strong, you're too weak...
* freely after Sören Kierkegaard
He was Dawon, the holy tiger, but all holiness has an end when it comes to their own lives. And so guards with guns were posted after the tiger attacked Bao. Yet Bao had still been lucky and survived the attack, though his right arm would probably never be the same again.
Anyway, there I was, standing in the darkness, the village at my back, the jungle in front of me. In my sweaty hand the old, heavy carbine, much older than me, slightly rusty on the barrel, but well oiled and undeniably deadly. The moon brought little light and so I listened and smelled everything around me. The spices of dinner from the village were still in the air. The wood was still wet after the last rain shower and the earth was steaming. The dense jungle in front of me was like a black wall in the already black night.
I didn't hear him coming, so quietly he crept up. But I smelled him. Sweet and warm, with the indescribable intensity that only a wild animal has. It smelled attractive and terrifying at the same time. Under its mighty paws, it crushed the wildflowers, so that something almost lovely was in the air as well.
Then suddenly he stood before me. A shadow, only the two eyes glowed golden. They regarded me and I lost myself in their unfathomable depths. Something utterly alien looked at me there: an indifference, no pity or compassion, those are human concepts, only the need to survive. The rifle trembled in my hand. I knew I would not be able to pull the trigger. An eternity we stared at each other, it seemed. But it was only a moment, I guess. Then he came toward me, his animal scent enveloping me completely. I closed my eyes and awaited my end. I felt his fur against my leg, a rough tongue brushed briefly over my hand, and just as silently as he had come, he was gone.
The rifle I left in place. He was Dawon, the holy tiger, I would not be able to shoot him. He had touched me and left me alive. The eye of the tiger had beheld me and now it is impossible for me to forget that this eye sees me.*
Never again do I want to face him.
-------------
Whether there's a tiger hiding in the Lui I don't know, but a big animal it definitely is. And wild it is too, at least at the beginning.
It starts with sweetish spices, clove I detect, some coumarin and cinnamon I suspect. The whole thing is warm and quite pleasant. Then comes the Animalik, probably fed from musk and ambergris, although I can not smell out both explicitly. It hits me like a hammer, which is intense. Underneath is leather and dark, damp wood. The patchouli is also earthy and dark. The only bright spot in this darkly vaporous concoction is the florals, but they also come across as very spicy at the beginning. The silage is also spacey at this point, so there's no escaping it. I couldn't find any citrusy notes.
Over time (so after about 2 hours) the scent becomes calmer and softer. The flowers are now more distinct and not so spicy. The Animalik is but always toneangebend and remains in the foreground. Slightly sweet resins still mix in and so he could slowly fade.
Does he but not with me. In the base (so after 6-7 hours), the fragrance is again really rough. The leather, which was previously only subliminally perceptible, comes out, very animalic and raw. With the woody notes, I could swear there is oud in it, but that's probably just the combination of the different notes.
I quite like subtle animalic notes in fragrances sometimes. Here, however, nothing is discreet, this is hardcore animalic and for fans certainly a pleasure. However, my limit has long been exceeded, I prefer to run away (even if that is probably not the best survival strategy with a tiger).
If he's too strong, you're too weak...
* freely after Sören Kierkegaard
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