Thanks to Marianne for her review.
Pine, as suggested by Hanna.
In case it isn't clear, the three POVs are Bella, Narcissa, Andromeda.
The scent is so familiar – wide gardens of her childhood. But the memories have a devastating bitterness to them.
She remembers being pushed to the ground.
Falling, losing control – vertigo hitting her.
Failure.
The scent reminds her of races and distant laughter, a long broken harmony.
Shrill screams are still ringing in her ears – her hair feels dishevelled, pretty face ruined by streams of tears.
Mess.
The scent carries a taste of storm, and her smile falters. But regret was never too biting for her.
She remembers flying. Freedom smelt so much more addictive than old trees.
Loss.
She flew.