Word count: 100
Character : Frodo
Disclaimer: JRR’s, PJ’s and by default, New Line’s – I’m just borrowing their toys.
Too tired to open his eyes, Frodo let surrounding scents identify this place - dank, wet, green and chill – the mill-pond at Hobbiton then? The cool murkiness of churned up river-mud splashing over the mill-wheel; no - the noise was greater. Behind the waterfall in Ithilien? The cavern bordered with a carpet of green moss feed by the living water, soothingly cool to his sore feet. No, here there were shrill screams. Dark, rank, stones bled cold into his bound arms. Shouts, more screams and finally a longed for voice,
“Mr Frodo, I’m here!”
Frodo forced his eyes open, realising his mistake.