Crossings
A Drabble

Water splashed. The horse underneath him whinnied in sudden panic, then reared. He slipped. Water, chill from the mountain heights, engulfed him, his weapons dragged him under. His horse was gone, hopefully safely back on the south-eastern bank, and he kicked, pushed and clawed against the current, against the chill, and against the weight of his gear. At long last his knees touched ground and with his last bit of strength, Boromir crawled onto the shore. As he collapsed, the white walls of Minas Tirith appeared before his mind's eye, and he was no longer sure he would ever return.

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A/N: The result of another InstantDrabble session. The drabble was inspired by the prompt: The River: A pathway between worlds.

Posted: 2012-02-07