You're standing at the rim at dusk, close enough to feel the heat on your face, watching lava push slow and inevitable through the cracks. Nothing else moves. The air smells like sulfur and something older than memory. You don't talk. There's nothing to say.

Scent: Bonfire Embers — maple and clove lead in warm and sweet, giving way to moss, patchouli, and vetiver before settling deep into smoke and charred embers.

A collection of calderas is sculpted across the top, bright orange lava running in channels between them.