Disclaimer: Not mine, Tolkien's.
To turn west -- Gondor.
Walls, weapons and the mustering of Men, prideful and flawed.
To turn east -- Mordor.
Fear, shadow, flames of torment, and power unbridled.
Death also certain…
Haste is needed, but fear clouds all thought. What choice lies between death… and death?
A looming shadow draws nigh, kindly offering counsel. The face smiles warmly, yet the eyes...
The eyes tell of betrayal.
And slowly, clarity returns. The err does not lie in the choice (for such choice is clear), but rather in the indecision.
I’ve lingered far too long…
What price will it bring?