We didn't set out to make perfume.

What began as a move away from the city became something quieter, slower, and far more profound. We left behind noise and haste and found ourselves in North Wales — where the land opens out, the sea presses in, the lakes stand still and the air itself seems to carry memory.

Here, scent is everywhere. Salt carried on the wind. Wet stone after rain. Crushed pine underfoot. Warm earth, cold mornings, wild grasses, distant smoke.

Living closer to the land sharpened our senses. Walks became rituals. Weather became language. And slowly, almost without noticing, we began to pay attention to smell — not as fragrance, but as feeling.

For years we've been exploring, refining, and quietly obsessing. Blending oils at the kitchen table. Letting accords rest and evolve. Returning to them weeks later to see what they had become. Learning patience. Learning restraint. Learning when to stop.

Our perfumes are shaped by this place and this pace. They are unisex, understated, and designed to sit close to the skin — unfolding throughout the day rather than announcing themselves all at once. Each scent is a moment captured: a season, a landscape, a feeling you can't quite put into words.

Four times a year, we release a new scent to a small group — the Môr Circle. A curated community connected by scent and season. Each release is paired with original work from artists, poets, writers, and makers who share our connection to this landscape.

We don't make perfume for everyone. And we don't try to.

Instead, we create small-batch scents to be shared with a few — those drawn to slowness, subtlety, and connection. People who understand that some things are better kept close.

If you're here, you're already near the circle.