Cloudy, splintered fingernails that armed the spindly, bony black fingers of the creature Gollum gently caressed his own skeletal frame, rocking himself back and forth… back and forth.

"How dare they," he breathed too himself, his mad black eyes flickering against the powerful silvery glow of the low hung full moon, as they fixated on that one spot. That one spot on the rock in front of him, where he had last placed his treasure. His precious.

"How dare they… precious," he wheezed, shuddering against the icy breeze that swept the cavern, creating a howling squeal in the still air. How dare they? Who, who in all of middle earth gave them the power, the authority, the sheer audacity too coldly take away the creatures only reason for living. HIS treasure. HIS precious.

"Dirty, tricksey Hobitses," he growled, hushing himself and caressing himself, his split mind bickering profusely in the back of his head as his only small piece of sanity tried to make understanding of his situation.

"Baggins. Shire."

Dirty Hobbits.