A pair of dark wolves departed the Bifrost, talking quietly amongst themselves as they went. As far as they were concerned their job here was done, their part of the bargain upheld. They'd only been told to make her disappear , but the nuances and details had been skipped over in place of urgency. Loopholes were easy to find and exploit and like any good pair of mercenaries, the dark wolves knew what was and what wasn't worth their effort. And maybe they felt a little bad for what they'd been paid to do, for as far as kidnapping victims she'd been kind of nice. Kinda.

And thus they left, never looking back as the tide slowly rose, sweeping over the thin bridge of the Bifrost. Leaving a lumpy and wriggling sack that was tied at the neck behind. Slowly but surely the waves rolled back and forth, swallowing the thin slither of land and soaking the sack that seemed to recoil at the sensation. It wouldn't be long till the bridge was submerged in its entirety, at least till the tide rolled back out.

It was becoming habit, to venture south towards the land bridge when the weather was fair. Perhaps he was searching for someone... a blond, brindled someone. Not that he would admit something so frivolous and juvenile. Today, he arrived at nearly sundown. The day had gotten busy, as he had been clearing snow from the roof of the outbuilding where he'd taken up residence. It was in the glinting of the sun's dying rays against the lapping waves that he noticed an odd shape, right in the middle of the Bifrost. Picking up his pace a little in the interest of avoiding the nuisance of wading through shoulder deep water as the tide continued to roll in, he trotted towards what appeared to be a very frantic lump. Upon closer inspection, it was a very wet burlap sack, and whatever was trapped within was alive. At the moment, at least. As the tide rolled in, whatever was tied up in there was going to drown slowly. So with practiced ease, he started picking at the knotted cord around the bag's neck until it frayed and broke open. It was with an idle curiosity that he pulled the waterlogged cord away from the bag and tossed it across his shoulder. He could probably reuse it later.

Deft digits pulled at the edges of the bag, unveiling its contents with a soft "Hm," of surprise. It was alive. A canine, for certain. As he removed more and more burlap from around the writhing figure, he finally realized it was another wolf. "what are you doing in a bag, about to be swallowed by the sea, little red?" he questioned with a curious tilt of his head. The scents of the mercenaries had long since been covered by the rising tide, and they had left in the opposite direction from whence he had come. Which left the conundrum of a young woman discarded at the maw of encroaching waves.

"Pontifex" || "Hallux" || "Pollux"