Smaug was laying. resting. Thinking the thoughts of dragons. Dark, twisted dreams are what pleased him. Smaug was slowly beginning to rise up from his long slumber. He had, after all, been asleep for just about 60 years. He arose, with a low guttural growl. smaug smiled. no gold stolen, yet. he knew he'd soon smell the familiar odour of dwarves raiders or curious goblins, maybe even an orc or two, snooping around his throne of jewels and metals. He looked around. There was dead silence. Smaug crawled to the entrance of the great jewel hall and sniffed. There was an odd smell, an unfamiliar smell. He spoke out, confused. " well, theif.....I smell you...."