El Hobbit 2- La — Desolacion De Smaug

The mist over the Long Lake did not rise; it crawled, like the breath of a dying thing. Bilbo Baggins stood on the shore of Esgaroth, clutching the cold ring in his pocket. He had not put it on—not yet—but its weight had grown heavier since Mirkwood.

The dragon lay half-buried in gold, one yellow eye cracked open, the pupil a vertical slit of ancient malice. When Bilbo stepped on a coin—just one—the sound echoed like a scream. El Hobbit 2- La desolacion de Smaug

Smaug shifted. Gold cascaded like a waterfall of bones. “They sent you for the Arkenstone, yes? Pretty little light-giver. Do you know what happened to the last creature that tried to take it?” The dragon’s lips curled back from teeth like swords. “He is still here. Somewhere. Under all this shine.” The mist over the Long Lake did not

Bilbo stopped. His blood turned to ice water. The dragon lay half-buried in gold, one yellow

Smaug did not sleep. That was the first terror.