Midnight-seance to summon the dead

As the foul witch was bleating inconsequentially into the night the voice was unexpected. It was low, with an agreeable trace of huskiness and with a hint of more power than her frail, skeletic body would possess. It was a male voice and it came...from....

There!

Within the next moment the witch already turned on her heels as if a spell was cast against her, commanding her body to move without her will. Her cerulean orbs dug through each and single shadow in order to find its source but what hit her was a surprise. His cologne. Oh, his cologne brought memories before her very eyes and even the hallucinations did not dare to make another appearance after she moaned, inhaling more vapors of that deliciously familiar scent.

Harbringr?

She turned right and left and right and left, turning her skeletical form into a 360 degrees circle.

Harbringr! The plume of her breath billowed out, and quickly dissipated in the cool midnight air and she could never whisper because her voice always had a million reasons to shout.