"The last gleam of evening..."
"Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the key-hole..."
The Dwarves stared eagerly into the distant sunset, murmuring to themselves with utmost anxiety.
Seeing the setting sun already half-sunk behind the mountain, the daylight grew dimmer and dimmer while the glow turned blood-red, the Dwarves could not help turning back to constantly grope along the stone wall, searching desperately, occasionally casting a glance back at the sunset gradually being swallowed by the evening glow, their hearts shifting step by step from anxiety to agitation.
"Why hasn't it appeared yet? How can this be!"
"We only have this one chance! We must find it!"
"Where is it! Where! How can there be nothing!"
"The sun is going down, hurry!"
"Search faster!"
Thorin's expression grew increasingly flustered. The pale gold light on the stone wall gradually moved upward until it left the stone face, vanishing completely in the blink of an eye, and only then did he turn away with a lost expression.
The setting sun was already out of sight, and the afterglow was gone too.
"Ah!"
He struck the stone wall fiercely with his fist.
An Yang reminded him from the side, "There's still a chance. Maybe it's not the sunset's afterglow, but the moonlight of the midwinter month."
Thorin turned his head, looked at him seriously, and asked, "Are you sure you didn't misread those runes? Is it really Durin's Day? If you got it wrong, we'll miss the chance to open the door!"
"That's what the writing says."
"Hah!" He let out a long breath, no longer questioning An Yang, and instead turned to constantly murmur words of comfort to himself.
In less than three minutes, the