The Art of Flailing: A Hobbit’s Tale by the Bagginses
‘The land about them grew bleak and barren, though once, as Thorin told them, it had been green and fair. There was little grass, and before long there was neither bush nor tree, and only broken and blackened stumps to speak of ones long vanished. They were come to the Desolation of the Dragon, and they were come at the waning of the year.’ — The Hobbit
See this bunch of Scotsmen, so strong a handsome built?
I wonder if it’s true what they don’t wear beneath the kilt
So, have a whole gang now. Blame yourselves for asking me to make a series. BLAME YOURSELVES
I could kiss you for these.
“Kili! Grab my hand!”
The pale peaks of the mountains were coming nearer, moonlit spikes of rock sticking out of black shadows. Summer or not, it seemed very cold. He shut his eyes and wondered if he could hold on any longer.