The scent of home is a peculiar thing. It's special.
No matter how long you venture far from it, no matter how distant the lands you wander through or how many unfamiliar skies you sleep beneath, that scent of your home never leaves you.
You could never truly forget it.
Sure, there are times when you may not remember it.
But it still lingers somewhere deep in the mind, quiet and patient, just waiting for the moment you cross the invisible line that says you have returned.
And when that moment comes, when you finally return home, you immediately recognize it as if you'd actually never left at all.
Now, this scent varies from person to person.
For some, it is the hint of rain-soaked soil in their garden. For others, it is the aroma of spices from their kitchen. For many, it is the very fragrance of their house.
…For me, however, the scent of home was something far stranger.
