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My Collection of Drabbles   by Periantari

Mordor

The terrain was hard.**

His back ached, lips were parched, and his tummy rumbled with hunger. No position was comfortable to sleep on, in the stony, cold ground of Mordor. 

Worried about his master, over the quickly diminishing lembas, and scared that any minute Stinker would reappear to attack, Sam found no way he could sleep in this inhospitable land. Debates ran through his mind about the futility of continuing given the deteriorating state of his master.

He sighed as his mind wandered back to the evil days ahead, the worth of it all, and how it would eventually play out in the end.

**First line by Iorhael.





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