This is an experiment writing dwarves. I hope you like it. :)


The sun was beginning to peek her head over the Misty Mountains, igniting the sky in glorious shades of pink and orange. Mist rolling off the rocky face of the mountain-sides reflected her rays brilliantly. "Wake up!" Thorin shouted. He had been up for some time and was eager to get moving.

All the dwarves startled from their sleep except Óin, of course. He must have been sleeping on his "good ear," thought his younger brother Glóin as he stretched and stood. The red-haired dwarf leaned over Óin's sleeping form and shook him firmly. Glóin's long, wild beard dangled tantalizingly close to the elder's large nose; it twitched in a most humorous way.

"Wake up! Thorin wants to get moving!" Glóin yelled perhaps a little louder than necessary.

Óin opened his eyes. The glistening morning sun made him cringe slightly. He looked up at his younger brother and scowled. "Let me sleep!"

His younger brother's reply was much quieter. "We need to chop wood!"

Óin looked at him in anger. "There ain't no way I'm chopping wood at this time!" The grey dwarf stubbornly snuggled deeper into his blankets. It was far too early to be chopping wood, he thought.

Glóin cocked his head. "What do you mean?"

Óin growled, "Now listen here! It is too early to be chopping wood or cleaning! I am sleeping!" He settled his head onto his pillow and shut his eyes. "Thorin can kiss my-Glóin, finally understanding (or done with his game), interrupted the ruffled dwarf. "Fine! Sleep! We'll leave without you!" This he yelled. A devious grin was spreading across his face.

Óin opened one eye; then it suddenly dawned on him. "No!" He quickly got up from his comfy position. "There ain't no way anyone is leaving without me!" he yapped.