Frodo trudged through the ankle deep snow, looking for someone. He did not recognize the place he had come to, and was quite sure it was not in Middle Earth, but he did not care. He just needed someone to help him bandage his hand. The little rat Gollum had chewed off his finger trying to get at the Ring. Serve him right that he died.

The place that Frodo had come to could be any small liberal arts college in the US. The buildings were fairly large, and made of stone, brick, cement, or a combination of the three, many with glass doors. Frodo trudged to the nearest building, hoping to find someone. He put his hand up to the glass to knock. He saw no one through the panes, and nobody seemed to hear him knocking.

Frodo looked around, wondering what building to try next. No one was out and about today, either all gone for some reason, or all inside, away from the cold. Frodo went to the next building, hoping to find someone, but had the same luck as he had at the first building. At the third building, he continued to have no luck. He looked around again, wondering where he could go. He could see a trail of blood in the snow, from his hand indicating where he had been.

Then, Frodo saw it. A column of smoke rose from behind a building across the snow-covered lawn in the ring of buildings he now stood in. He tried to run, hoping to find a friendly person there, but halfway across the lawn, he felt himself starting to faint. He fell, and struggled to rise, but couldn“t. He struggled for several minutes, and then felt a pair of arms lifting him up, and a voice saying 'Welcome to Rivendell'.