#odorat

The rotting rose woman first brought the overwhelming, pungent, metallic iron smell of blood. Its rusty tag almost, almost, overpowered the miasma of decaying flowers surrounding her. Almost. The smell of roses, of beauty gone wrong, of death, with the scent of blood, of injury, of infection, it left them choking, gasping. It wrapped around them, in a dizzying cloud, made their heart ache.

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