"The first time I met you, you smelled of human and baboon, from the hideous body and ugly pelt you wore. I thought you were human till I scented the aura of a demon underneath, and you wanted my brother dead, so I gave you the time of day.
"The second time I met you, you smelled the same, but I noticed your hair smelled of dirt. Not grease and dust, but rich clay-filled soil, moist and heavy.
"And when I met you a third time, I smelled you. I'd like to say you smell of perfume, of lemon and grass, wind through the trees, but I'd be lying. You smell singed and toxic, like a lit torch shoved into a bowl of poison."
"Wow," said Naraku, "that's quite possibly the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Which is kind of sad."
Sesshomaru sighed. "And how do I smell, then?"
"Er." Suddenly Naraku looked evasive. "My senses aren't as keen as yours..."
"Naraku," growled the demon.
"Well, to be honest," said Naraku to the ceiling, "to me you've always smelled like a wet dog."