100 words originally written for an OSA challenge

Last Hope

Sam wrapped his cloak closer around his master: trying to shield him from the searing heat.

Here at the end of all things; Frodo had given up. His body and spirit finally broken on this grim mountainside. A mountain that was blowing itself apart piece by awful piece.

Sam pondered to make sense of it. One question still unanswered: what was it that had drawn the Dark Lord's eye?

The Hobbit turned to look towards the Black Gates, he blinked, rubbed the soot from his eyes. There was no mistake. Birds, huge birds screaming down the North Wind toward them.