As promised, Cenrid lead the group to the mountain, and he'd given them each a weapon from a makeshift camp of sorts. Apparently the man had been anticipating the arrival of Thorin, for he had been staked out some time beforehand. 

Thankfully, their weapons were not needed. There wasn't a soul in sight.
The closer Kili got to the mountain, the more amazed he felt to see it up close. This had always been his dream, and now it was real. Seeing the destruction left by Smaug filled him with dread; what if Thorin and the rest of the company had been killed?

"I don't see anyone," Kili's voice was low, his expression troubled. They should have seen someone by now.
"Maybe there is no one to see." Cenrid answered, hand near the hilt of his sword. "If you'd rather...I can go ahead to make sure..."

Disturbed by the suggestion, Kili stopped in his tracks. "What are you saying?"

Cenrid stopped, looking to the youngest with skepticism. "You saw what the beast did to the town...do you really think he left any survivors?" With a low scoff, he glanced towards Saeril. "Surely you are not that naive." 

Without warning, Kili shoved past him and ran towards the place that should have been their home. Cenrid had to have been wrong. Thorin couldn't be dead.