(no subject)
*rustles his wings and looks down at the strange little animal that appeared at the entrance to his lair. Flares his nostrils, taking in the scents around him...gold, tarnish, steel, mithril, rock, dead dwarf...barrel rider. His thick scaled lips peel back from his teeth as he catches the last scent. Not exactly like that annoying little thing from before, but similar enough to warrent anger. The little creature was passed out, slender white limbs tangled together and raven-wing black hair fanned out over the ground. It would be easy to crush. It would never even know what was coming to it. The little creature makes a soft sound, interupting Smaug's contemplations of its death, and rolls onto its back. Its stomach is slightly swollen, a fact which makes Smaug's eyes narrow. Perhaps...perhaps this is the little thing that He wants. Earlier, Chaos had come to him, bubbling up from a crack in the rocks, flowing over the sleeping dragon's head in an attempt to suffocate...listen, or die. Listen or die. Smaug looked around him for that peculiar blackness. It was nowhere to be seen. He could eat this morsel and He would never know it. Or,he could give it to Chaos and save himself the trouble of being suffocated. Dying always put a hamper on things. He plucked it gingerly from the ground, enfolding it in his taloned hand. He would have to think about what to do. Until he'd made a decision, and gilded cage suited this creature. Yes, that's exactly where he would put it.*