Oz nodded in satisfaction as she recognized some of the scents (not what he would have guessed she would say, but nothing too strange, either). He held his wrist below his own nose for a second with a smirk. "Petrichor," he announced, then raised his eyebrows at his sister as if to say well, are you impressed yet?

"I'm filing a patent and they sent it back because I haven't given it an official name yet," he continued, brandishing the letter in his other hand as though it were a torch and he was warding off approaching monsters. "So, Miss Artiste, what would you name it?"

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