#otrop

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

Hey Pep, were you... stuck in your pizzeria? Couldn't you leave? How did you get ingredients for your pizzas?

Pep: "Hcum evael ot ekil t'ndid tsuj I, airezzip ym ni kcuts t'nsaw I."

Pep: "Yletelpmoc meht diova ot reisae tsuj saw ti os, thgis no dekcatta senolc rehto eht fo ynam tub, stneidergni teg ot semitemos tuo og ot evah did I."

Pep: "Deirrow tog llits I, enog saw I nehw meht hctaw ot Olleb dna Otrop detsurt I dna, sselpleh ton erew seno elttil eht elihw tub, airezzip ym morf yawa yats ot dednet yeht..."

Pep: "Deneppah ti nehw deticxe os syawla erew seno elttil eht tub, morf saw ti ohw erus ton ma I. Niaga dna won yreve stneidergni fo yreviled a teg osla did ew tub!"

Pep: "Ecalp eht dnuora saw revetahw pu gnikcip naht doof rehserf hcum. Oot saw I dna."

Pep: "Heh. Ydal ynnub ytterp eht, mhu... Ion... Mu... N... Hu ees d'I osla dna..."

Pep: "Emoh kcab ekat ot doof em evag dna ecin os syawla saw ehs dna, tol a reh ees d'I."

Pep: "Oot sgniht rehto emos dna azzip eht a-kooc ot elba saw I emit eht fo tsom os."

[aasraw-mary]

5 Best peptides for Weight Loss

1 Best Peptide for Weight Loss: Semaglutide

Semaglutide belongs to a class of medications known as glucagon-like peptide-1 receptor agonists, or GLP-1 RAs. It mimics the GLP-1 hormone, released in the gut in response to eating. The Semaglutide injection works by slowing down how quickly food leaves your stomach and allows you to feel full for a longer period of time. By reducing hunger, lowering your appetite and increasing feelings of fullness, it will reduce your calorie intake and allow you to lose weight, 1-2 pounds a week.

2 Peptide for Weight Loss: Tirzepatide

Tirzepatide is a novel medication that is FDA approved for the treatment of type 2 diabetes mellitus. Given its potent weight loss properties, tirzepatide be used off-label for obesity treatment. It works as a dual GLP-1 agonist and GIP agonist to maximize similar benefits that are seen with GLP-1 medications such as semaglutide. It is currently implemented as a second-line diabetes medication, similar to GLP-1 medications, and given as a once-a-week subcutaneous injectable.

3 Peptide for Weight Loss: Liraglutide

Liraglutide, is an anti-diabetic medication used to treat type 2 diabetes, and chronic obesity. It is a second line therapy for diabetes following first-line therapy with metformin. Its effects on long-term health outcomes like heart disease and life expectancy are unclear. It is given by injection under the skin.

5 Peptide for Weight Loss: Retatrutide

Retatrutide is an agonist of the glucose-dependent insulin otropic polypeptide, glucagon-like peptide 1, and glucagon receptors. As can be expected, such a significant reduction in body weight in overweight and obese people also resulted in an improvement in blood pressure, cholesterol, and glucose parameters. 

How do Peptides for Weight loss Work?  

Most of the peptides, if not all, work via a common mechanism of action. They increase the release of Growth Hormone from the anterior pituitary gland, which leads to systemic effects. This is primarily seen in peptides used explicitly for muscle growth and endurance.  

As far as weight loss peptides are concerned, it gets pretty interesting!  

Some of these peptides work by increasing growth hormone levels. The growth hormone, in turn, targets specific sites like adipocytes and hepatocytes, causing raised cellular metabolism and fat burning.  

Besides this, most peptides also work by rapidly increasing the process of lipolysis and simultaneously inhibiting excess lipogenesis from occurring. This leads to a net loss of fat.  

A few peptides also work by regulating hormones responsible for glycemic control, like insulin and glucagon. With more insulin, glucose is transported inside the cells for energy expenditure. This subsequently aids in further weight loss.  

热推

[wilderalison]

a cat occurs /n curse: hel/otrope shades—curls— 55.1" x 60.6" sl/pped—green—f/st \formaya\ dr/psdry 55.1" x 59.1"

Both: Dyed wool & thread, 2023 On view in Let the World In group show at Center for Maine Contemporary Art, Rockland, ME, US 27 January - 5 May, 2024

[polypeptide555]

5 Best peptides for Weight Loss

1 Best Peptide for Weight Loss: Semaglutide

Semaglutide belongs to a class of medications known as glucagon-like peptide-1 receptor agonists, or GLP-1 RAs. It mimics the GLP-1 hormone, released in the gut in response to eating. The Semaglutide injection works by slowing down how quickly food leaves your stomach and allows you to feel full for a longer period of time. By reducing hunger, lowering your appetite and increasing feelings of fullness, it will reduce your calorie intake and allow you to lose weight, 1-2 pounds a week.

2 Peptide for Weight Loss: Tirzepatide

Tirzepatide is a novel medication that is FDA approved for the treatment of type 2 diabetes mellitus. Given its potent weight loss properties, tirzepatide be used off-label for obesity treatment. It works as a dual GLP-1 agonist and GIP agonist to maximize similar benefits that are seen with GLP-1 medications such as semaglutide. It is currently implemented as a second-line diabetes medication, similar to GLP-1 medications, and given as a once-a-week subcutaneous injectable.

3 Peptide for Weight Loss: Liraglutide

Liraglutide, is an anti-diabetic medication used to treat type 2 diabetes, and chronic obesity. It is a second line therapy for diabetes following first-line therapy with metformin. Its effects on long-term health outcomes like heart disease and life expectancy are unclear. It is given by injection under the skin.

5 Peptide for Weight Loss: Retatrutide

Retatrutide is an agonist of the glucose-dependent insulin otropic polypeptide, glucagon-like peptide 1, and glucagon receptors. As can be expected, such a significant reduction in body weight in overweight and obese people also resulted in an improvement in blood pressure, cholesterol, and glucose parameters. 

How do Peptides for Weight loss Work?  

Most of the peptides, if not all, work via a common mechanism of action. They increase the release of Growth Hormone from the anterior pituitary gland, which leads to systemic effects. This is primarily seen in peptides used explicitly for muscle growth and endurance.  

As far as weight loss peptides are concerned, it gets pretty interesting!  

Some of these peptides work by increasing growth hormone levels. The growth hormone, in turn, targets specific sites like adipocytes and hepatocytes, causing raised cellular metabolism and fat burning.  

Besides this, most peptides also work by rapidly increasing the process of lipolysis and simultaneously inhibiting excess lipogenesis from occurring. This leads to a net loss of fat.  

A few peptides also work by regulating hormones responsible for glycemic control, like insulin and glucagon. With more insulin, glucose is transported inside the cells for energy expenditure. This subsequently aids in further weight loss.  

[homebrew4you]

Retro Otrop v2021.08.21 (Nintendo Game Boy (Color) Game)

Retro Otrop v2021.08.21 (Nintendo Game Boy (Color) Game) Retro Otrop by Iuri Guião is an adventure game created for Nintendo's Game Boy Color, and is still in development. The game is simple. It is about writing and discovering, finding inspiration in little moments. Move the player with the pads, find and interact with different things. Talk with people, find items and discover the family secrets in the little town of Otrop. ​ Read the full article

[otropstories]

Lady Rouge (2015) - Prólogo

Sinopse:  10 de Abril de 1912, Nova York.

Marbleize Floyd é uma pobre enfermeira, que por obra do destino, é obrigada à viajar às pressas de Fincheley, Inglaterra; à bordo do tão famoso recém-inaugurado RMS Titanic, deixando sua filha mais nova, Serena. Porém, dias depois o Titanic é dado como afundado, matando sua mãe entre os outros 1.517 passageiros. 

Marion Lowe, um filho de uma família rica e soberba, descobre que sua casa recebeu altas multas e atrasos de pagamentos, e poderá perder a mansão onde vive, até mesmo ser preso. Durante sua desolação, é seduzido por uma mulher rica é engravida dele, sendo obrigado à se casar com a cobra em troca de dinheiro para salvar a mansão, sendo traído assim. Mas o que apenas um dia de 12 de Junho do ano seguinte poderia reservar? Marion precisa fugir da polícia com a mãe e a esposa mentirosa grávida até o Nova York, se encontrando com Serena, naquele mesmo barco. 

"Seu primeiro erro, foi deixá-la entrar..."

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Título Oficial: "Lady Rouge - Amor de uma Noite". © Copyright. Personagens fictícios. Fanfiction escrita por A. A Otrop; sem fins lucrativos. Publicado originalmente no Nyah! Fanfiction de acordo com a nova Ordem Ortográfica, em 2015. ♞ Conto Original. ♞ Revisão e Beta-reader: Anna L. ♞ Agradecimento Especial: Lazy Liesel (Autora da obra "Change!") ♞ Capa: Anikenkai (Photoscape) ♞ Edição/acabamento: Anikenkai --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 — Se você pensa que vou me casar com uma mulher que eu não amo, nem ao menos conheço, está muito enganada mesmo!

A voz de Marion já tremia as paredes da casa, aquela situação já estava totalmente fora de controle.

— Ora, pelo Amor de Deus, você a engravidou! E, além disso, Ronnie é uma mulher linda, carinhosa, e sei que lhe dará muitos filhos; por favor, é a única maneira, meu querido...

Ethel ainda tentava acalmar a grande fera que despertava no coração do seu filho; negra, raivosa e rugindo de fúria. Sabia que não poderia segurar as rédeas do filho, mas ele precisava aceitar as consequências dos seus pecados.

— Única maneira de o quê, mamãe?! Tirar proveito dela? Já não nos basta o dinheiro sujo que nós temos, ainda quer roubar mais dela? — perguntava frio, aproximando-se da própria mãe e controlando-se para não cometer nenhuma loucura. — Não farei nada contra minha vontade!

— Ora, cale a boca, Marion! — ordenou ela. — Veja que bagunça fez no meu quarto! Francamente! Você não tem mais dezessete anos, Marion, já é um homem de vinte oito anos, já está ciente de que precisamos construir laços com a família dela! Sabe a confusão de nos dará por você rejeitar sua prometida? Além disso, é uma única maneira de conseguirmos nos livrar dessa nossa dívida, meu filho.

Murmurava Ethel, com uma voz desta vez calma e tão doce em seus ouvidos: — Pagaremos o que devemos ao banco americano com o dinheiro da família da Ronnie. É uma maneira fácil; eles não irão se importar com a falta de alguns míseros dois milhões. E também, os credores aparecerão amanhã mesmo para levar esta casa! E... a polícia! Por isso, ouça-me, levaremos as minhas sobrinhas daqui e sua noiva grávida para o cais e pegaremos o primeiro barco que avistarmos e que fugir para as Ilhas Escapadas. Vamos voltar para a Inglaterra. Sei que Larry pode nos abrigar até essa maré de susto acabar.

Disse, explicando-se e arrumando sua peruca loira.

— Durante esta guerra? Você deve estar louca!

Até um certo tempo, ele conhecera sua nova noiva. Era uma moça bem-vista, bonita, mas em uma noite de luxúria e loucura, acabou dormindo com ela e a engravidando.

Ethel, sua mãe, não poderia ficar mais feliz do que a situação do casal, aniquilando qualquer chance de haver amor nos dois e roubando o dinheiro dela sem que ela visse. O loiro não podia denunciar sua mãe, não suportaria vê-la presa.

Apesar de estarem com os nomes sujos por dívidas, ele não queria se aproveitar assim da jovem como Ethel fazia. Ambos já estavam assustados e, apesar de ser um adulto, Marion nunca tinha passado por uma situação como aquela. Já estavam de olhos vendados em um mar de tubarões, em meio de todos aqueles ricos em sua volta. Queria ficar ali, na América. Mas o que foi feito não podia mais ser desfeito.

Sem saída.

Marion virou-se e observou as mãos manchadas de um sangue desconhecido. Logo, notou que havia revirado todo o quarto de sua mãe, quebrando e arremessando os móveis feito um animal selvagem, cortando-se por contra própria por acidente, mas nem percebendo por estar sobre o efeito da fúria. Respirando fundo, afastou-se dela, e esta pôde suspirar aliviada por ver o filho esta voltando finalmente a si. Seus profundos olhos azuis voltavam ao normal.

Observando o pôr do sol lá de fora, Peeta fechou os olhos e encostou a testa no ombro, apoiado na janela e refletiu brevemente sua vida. Teria com uma mulher que não amava para consertar um erro! Teria que fugir da cidade, abandonar amigos e outros familiares, até um local desconhecido com uma noiva grávida para cuidar.

Um filho. Marion estava mais nervoso que qualquer outra pessoa no mundo. Além disso, nunca teria a oportunidade de se apaixonar um dia de verdade.

— Eu concordo com você. É tudo culpa minha. Arrumarei minhas coisas e buscarei Ronnie logo de madrugada e fugiremos. Não quero que se machuque também, mamãe. Venha conosco... — Respondeu ele, desconfortável. É claro, ele precisava de algum tipo de afeto naquele instante, mesmo que viesse da própria mãe aproveitadora.

Ethel não evitou de abraçá-lo e afagar seus cabelos loiros.

— Alegre-se, querido. Amanhã é o Dia dos Namorados... Talvez possamos passar em uma banca e comprar flores para ela antes de fugirmos para não assustá-la com tudo isso...

— Não — o rapaz disse. — Não há necessidade disso. Vou lidar com as consequências de meus atos, como homem. Não vou fingir que amo Ronnie, não preciso disso, nem ela.

Ele se afastou dos braços de Ethel, afastando-se para a porta para chamar a criada para limpar toda aquela destruição de longas horas de raiva e gritos ecoando pelos corredores. Algumas empregadas fitava-o incrédulas.

O loiro então saiu, e por toda casa, ouviram-se os passos pesados que deixava nos corredores frios da mansão.

[mcatmemoranda]

Good mnemonic for remembering what meds to give for HF: BALD IS IN = Beta blockers, ACEIs, Lasix (furosemide)/Loop Diuretic, ISDN, Spironolactone, Inotropes (dobutamine or milrinone).

To review, there is the New York Heart Association HF classification:

Class I - no symptoms with activity

Class II - symptoms with strenuous activity

Class III - symptoms with normal activities of daily life

Class IV - symptoms at rest

The treatment for all HF pts is beta blocker + ACEI. Then with each class, you add on something. So for class II, add Lasix; for class III, add ISDN/hydralazine (Bidil) and spironolactone; for class IV, add inotropes.

[alltastestropical-blog]

more OTROPICO ILLUSTRATIONs @ https://alltastestropical.tumblr.com

[otropwrites]

Hello, world. I’m Otrop.

Hello everybody, my name is Adnerb Otrop, but you guys can call me just A. A Otrop. I decided a long time ago to create an blog for me, just to post my new chronicles, tales, fables, texts and olds fanfictions and of course - original histories. I hope you guys enjoy. I’ll do my best. I invite everybody to interact with me, helping me create and correcting me. 

With much luv,

- Otrop.

[codenomesailorv]

FANFICTION:

"Harry Potter and the DeadlyHallows - Final Chapter"

◇ (This fanfiction is an alternative version of the last chapter of the book "Deadly Hallows", after the last chapter and before the prologe, and It's whitout relationship with "Cursed Child" or the Harry Potter movies).

● Original History by JK Rowling

● Fanfiction by Anikenkai/A. A Otrop

FINAL CHAPTER

The four paintings at Grimmaud Place

 

 

 The first rays of sunlight passed through the transparent stained-glass windows in the calm morning air, touching Harry's face as the boy shifted on the bed. After a few brief seconds he opened his eyes and felt around on the desk, taking his glasses and putting them weakly on his face, still completely exhausted as if he hadn't slept for a whole month.

He got up slightly from the bed, and still a little dizzy, focused only on a small figure moving around nearby pulling something heavy, shrieking and letting out an exclamation of relief afterwards. Soon, Harry saw who it was.

"What are you doing, Neville?" Harry asked, rising a little further from the bed, watching his friend rummage in his trunk.

"Ah" Neville turned and smiled at him. "Good morning, Harry. Sorry, did I wake you up with the noise? You know my trunk is absurdly heavy, I was barely able to pull him to bed." 

The plump boy with scarred face smiled slightly at Harry, feeling his fingers in the huge suitcase he founded on the bed next to him. 

"It doesn't even seem like I had the strength just a few days ago to face Death Eaters. Compared to my trunk now, they were very light." 

And saying that Neville laughed, and bent down again to open the wooden lid in front of him.

Yes, it was true. For a brief moment, a flash of memories rushed through Harry's mind, recalling everything that had happened in just under two days. The Battle at Hogwarts. The deaths. The meeting with Dumbledore in his head. And Voldemort's defeat at his hands, everything quickly passing by in a glance at his still sleepy eyes. But then he felt suddenly awake, as if someone had thrown a bucket of cold water down his spine, and then his body relaxed.

"You can sleep later today. You will not have an exact time for the Expresso departure. He will pick up the remaining students at different times until after lunch." Neville added, tossing a few pieces of clothing in his trunk.

Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head and trying to find Ron on the bed next to his, but he didn't find him immediately.

"Ew, Neville... has Ron got up yet?"

"Oh, yes. For the breakfast, I saw him come down the stairs to Hermione when I came up just now. It looks like they were called earlier to speak to McGonagall."

"Right." Harry nodded, trying not to be intrigued by the reason for his friends' haste, and again lay down on the bed, struggling to get the faces out of his head and everything else that had happened so many hours ago.

After several minutes, Neville spoke again.

"Hey, when you get up, could you move the gifts out of the way in the bedroom? You know, I don't know if I'm going to be able to lift my trunk to bed again if I want not to crush one of them, you know."

"Gifts?"

And then Harry stood up again, looking sideways and at the dormitory floor and gaping. Scattered on the floor, and in everything that his field of vision could see next to his bed and beyond Seamus's and Ron's to the walls, boxes and more boxes lay there, some lined up and others in piles, forming piles on one another, with multicolored packages and some with sparkling ribbons, some large and small, huddled up to Harry's knee. The boy got up from the bed, looking around the room, amazement on his face. It was as if he were in the Room of Requirement, among the numerous objects lined up on top of each other.

"They're for you." Neville added, without taking his eyes off what he was doing in his trunk, laughing. "I think the news of what you did with You-Know-Who has already spread everywhere. They brought you these gifts at night. It seems that many people wanted to thank you, you know."

Harry was stunned, looking at each gift spread out in front of him, boxes and more boxes piled up, and finally he stood up, totally amazed. It was as if it were Christmas, but as if all the gifts from each student were crammed there, as if Harry's room and the boys were some kind of storage. He quickly took some packages out of the way and reached for his own trunk, taking his clothes and carefully spreading some on the way to the door so that it would be free.

"Phew, thanks." Neville said getting up and closing his trunk ready. The boy was now wearing his muggle clothes, very dark jeans with a cool multicolored knit shirt and numbers on the back, a sort of Hockey team T-shirt.

Harry turned to the bed and was about to lie down again, when he heard the crash of his friend's trunk again turning to the floor and unable to control the voice that had been stuck in his throat for many days, he turned and said to Neville:

"You deserved those gifts much more than I did, if it weren't for you cutting off that snake's head, I…"

"Harry, stop. I've won too many things from my grandmother and the Gryffindor guys, man. Relax. I don't care about that, and you deserved so much more."

 "Neville listen, I …" Harry started as soon as he sat on the bed, staring at his bare feet but it was the colleague who interrupted him before he could even finish the sentence.

"No, Harry. It's all right. You don't have to say anything."

Neville said in one breath and even though she was loud and clear, she sounded gently in the room. Harry looked up to face his friend and just managed to smirk at him.

"I didn't have the opportunity to thank you and the others. For everything."

 Harry continued, taking hold of everything that had happened in the last days in his memory, remembering what Neville had done at Hogwarts with his friends while he, Ron and Hermione did while traveling across the continent in search of the Horcruxes. The way Neville had led Dumbledore's Army, how he had brought everyone together in the Room of Requirement and fought alongside him. As he did not even hesitate when the Death Eaters marked his skin with scrapes and bruises, as he did in the first bruise, he carried out Harry's request and without blinking, killed Nagini in front of Voldemort himself.

"Don't worry." Neville stepped forward, approaching Harry and patting his friend on the shoulder, as if they were talking about some Quidditch match, as his voice was as calm as any that Harry had heard a long time ago. "It was all thanks to you. I had faith in you. But now we are talking by owls, ok?"

Harry looked up again and saw Neville's plump hand stretched out in front of him, his palm open and inviting.

"I have to leave, my grandmother is waiting in the common room. Let's take the next train and go home."

"Does that mean ..." Harry was momentarily surprised and Neville nodded.

"Yes Yes. We finish the school year. I'm a graduate of Hogwarts."

And he held out his own hand, shaking his friend's. He wanted to get up and hug him, thank him for his courage and not have doubted him, wanted to hug each one, but Harry still didn't have the strength to do either. Instead he smiled and Neville took it out of his hand, raised his wand, and his trunk began to levitate, heading straight for the slowly opening door.

"See you next time, Harry. I'll wait for your owl, huh!"

"Shure!" And Harry smiled more gratefully and waved his hand, watching Neville walk through the portal and disappear into the stairway to the Gryffindor Common Room.

(...)

Harry didn't know how many hours he had been standing there, inert but already fully dressed, staring at the dormitory ceiling without even moving, the only noise he dared to make was his breathing. He was not hungry, although there were still remnants of a deep sleep that was caused by the hours of confinement in bed weighing his eyes, as if he could not get enough sleep, as if the tiredness did not leave his back, but not any real sleep, forcing him to stand there, disabled and thinking about everything that had happened to him until then. He hadn't seen anyone for three days, not even Teacher McGonagall, not Teacher Flitwick, not Luna, Ginny, Mr. and Mr. Weasley, not even George or Percy or any of his friends. 

Harry had locked himself in the dorm hours after he left Headmaster Dumbledore's office, when McGonagall finally released him to rest and heal his wounds, stunned and impressed by everything Harry, Ron and Hermione had told her what they had done, before they returned to Hogwarts. Harry had told her everything, to the teachers and the new Minister of Magic, who met there shortly after Voldemort's inert body had been thrown away from the castle boundaries, when he learned in detail about Dumbledore's plan for the Horcruxes, about the months in the forests, about how he had found Griffindor's sword and how Harry had apparently risen from the dead. The boy told them, but hid about the Deathly Hallows. 

He did not want anyone else, other than friends and those who had already talked about objects, to know about them, their existence and formidable powers, and surprisingly no one asked them about it, they only looked at Harry when at last he finished his account of Snape, and his Patron charm  - hidden over his mother, leading him towards the Ice Water Pit that kept Griffindor's ruby-studded sword.

"But ... but ..." Professor Slugorn stammered when Harry finally finished, almost immediately and in a shaky voice. "We were sure that Snape definitely turned to the Death Eaters. You, yourself told us how he killed Dumbledore in cold blood with an unforgivable curse, and your term as Headmaster proved it, the terror of the students, the way his followers of You-Know-Who acted freely in the school, and... and…"

"I know," Harry began, still as dirty from head to toe as the others present around the director's table, with blood that had been dry for a long time on his forehead, which at that point was starting to bother him a little. "But I saw it all through Snape's last memories when he handed it to me before he died. When I got back to the castle, I just thought of going back here, right here, and dumping the memory in Pensieve."

And then he lifted the tiny shards from the small bottle that Snape had given him, which had broken from his pocket when he received the Avada Kedavra curse on his body and fell to the floor. The teachers stared at the pieces, as if they couldn't believe it.

"Don't trust me, do you? You can use a tracking spell on the flask to discover its previous content, if you want. If that's still possible…" Added Harry, now a little irritated.

"Amazing. Very amazing!" From above, Flineus Fletcher, the former director of Hogwarts and a proud member of Slytherin shouted from his painting, screamed, looking around and trying to share the astonishment in the eyes of the other directors and directors, who were watching everything very quietly.

"There's no need, Potter." Professor McGonagall replied first, raising a hand to Harry, still very stunned. "We have no reason to doubt you and everything you did today. I'm sure everyone here will agree with me."

And almost immediately the teachers nodded, Flitwick, Sprout, Firenze, the centaur and even Hagrid, and the other teachers and present together with the Minister of Magic. Even Sibila Trewloney was there, curled up in a corner, but she nodded firmly. Finally, everyone looked at each other and McGonagall turned to Shacklebolt.

"Well, that's enough for now. Now, we need to discuss what to do about the School, since it was very destroyed. Prepare funerals and alert family members who have not yet been notified, bring them as soon as possible. Potter, you can go wash up and go to the infirmary with the others." And then the teacher turned again and looked kindly at him. "You, most of all, deserve to rest."

Harry didn't agree with that. It was obvious from his countenance that he felt deeply exhausted and hurt, however, he was not in a position to lie down and sleep for a long time, have his wounds taken care of and close his eyes and pretend that nothing had happened, but he just turned around, looking to friends and simply obeyed.

Before they leave, he can see the teacher looking back, her hair loose and streaked, her clothes sooty and dark blood somewhere on her arm with a completely exhausted expression, sitting with some discomfort in the chair that had once belonged Albus Dumbledore, before the three of them crossed the room. Harry, however, went directly to the Fat Lady painting towards the Gryffindor Common Room, still devastated by the battle, where many students crowded dragging suitcases and hugging friends, but did not see them, since Harry, once again, covered up and Ron and Hermione with the Invisibility Cloak, crouched through and stepping on the rocks and dirt on the floor, crossing smashed busts to the railing of the stairs. 

Even with protests from Hermione insisting that Harry go directly to the Infirmary - or even then, the Castle Entrance, where several combatants were still lying on makeshift stretchers and being cared for by healers who had just arrived from St Mungos - Harry ignored her, stating that he didn’t want to be in the middle of everyone and being ovulated or even cursed. She didn't understand his train of thought. In any case, he did not want to receive any kind of treatment different from the others, whether it was pleasant or bad.

"Take the Invisibility Cloak if you want, bring me tomorrow. I will not be leaving the room until everyone, or almost everyone, leaves Hogwarts." Harry had said in a low voice, while Hermione pulled from his beaded purse one of the last healing potion that she still had miraculously, into the boy's hands.

"B-but ... Harry…"

"Leave him, Mione. Harry needs to be alone." Ron said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow morning."

"Okay." Harry had replied and even though she was upset, Hermione followed Ron back to the Common Room, while the boy locked himself in the dorm.

Harry then suddenly returned to the present.

He blinked his eyes and realized that he had dozed off again, as his belly finally snored, and looking at the golden watch on his wrist that still worked, it indicated that it was just after two in the afternoon. He once again lifted the body from the bed, feeling his sedentary muscles protest with the sudden act, and tried to see with his crooked glasses the empty, dark and silent room, still crammed with innumerable packages and gifts up to the walls. Don't feeling no one was there. On the other side of the window, he heard the sound of almost nothing at all, just a faint patter of drops hitting his pane. The light rain then cooled the room, making Harry decided to get out of bed for good and then leave the dorm for the first time in almost two weeks since the Battle was over.

(...)

He was now on the edges of one of the parapets on one of the upper floors of the castle, along with Ron and Hermione, the three of them with pale faces and bandages spread across their arms and legs, especially Harry, who had a large bandage on his forehead where there was been hit by the stone debris that fell on him the moment Fred was attacked. Now they sat on the parapet, watching the sky painted orange and gray, shortly after the improvised dinner at the Castle, which Harry had obviously avoided as well as the other meetings with the residents of Hogwarts. So Ron snatched a small basket of caramel pies and breads with fried sausages, and inside was a bottle partially filled with pumpkin juice and brought it to his friend when they found them. 

They spent a long time silent, watching the sun go down, while Harry's mind wandered far away, when it was Hermione who finally broke the silence.

"Everyone's been asking about you, you know, Harry. Everyone wants to hug you, thank you, kiss you, shake your hand and everything. They want to talk to you, but as they have avoided leaving the dormitory, I feel an air of disappointment in the air." She said, giving a light chuckle at the end of the sentence. "I don't think they would ever understand, you know."

"Uh, I understand." Ron replied, making a face as he turned to Hermione on Harry's other side. "Like, come on. Even I would like to thank Harry, but the air is very heavy. I hope they all leave soon, then we can also take the train back home in peace."

"So, have all the students left Hogwarts yet?" Harry asked his friend, a little exasperated.

"Almost all." Hermione who answered. "I was still left, Ron, Luna, some students of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and a few wounded from the battle, too hurt to stupor to St Mungos, but I think they all fit in the Hospital Wing and released the Hall. he ordered Goblins and some building wizards to come until the day after tomorrow to begin repairs on the Castle. I think practically, everyone in Gryffindor has already left."

Hermione turned her head to the side and looked at the large missing piece of wall that followed the castle to the towers on the west side, where its parts lay inert, destroyed on the charred grass of the countryside around below, even towards of the lake.

"Looks like they're going to have a long job, poor people." Ron sighed deeply as he poured a glass of pumpkin juice into his mouth next.

"Yeah. I only hope they finish by the beginning of the school year. I don't want to go back with everything still destroyed, you know. It would make me sad just to think."

Harry knew why Hermione talked about returning to the castle, of course. Since the three of them had missed almost the entire school year while looking for the Horcruxes, there was still a year to complete their education at Hogwarts, and of course, if they wanted to continue looking for a job in the wizarding world, they needed to complete the last exams, just like the others. That remained. Harry hadn't thought about going back to school, hadn't even thought about leaving, yet he had a glimpse of a certain plan that would make it now that it was over and Voldemort wouldn't bother him again, now that he was free of his own destiny for the first time. Time since he was born. But for that, of course, they had to finish their studies. They could not go back to attending classes normally, they were too old, so learned that Hermione had asked Professor McGonagall, the next day that Harry had locked himself in the dormitory, to do some supplementary type to make up for the countless missed classes - and that, of course at the teacher's own suggestion, they enrolled to perform. So they would only have to return for a few days, take some tests of school summaries and finally Harry, Ron and Hermione would graduate and leave Hogwarts for good. 

He then found himself thinking about Fred, George and others Ron's brother, and all the Weasleys and especially - as many, many times - about Ginny, and the funeral that followed the day after the Battle, when those left behind prepared the seats ideals and preparations to bury all who had died on the castle grounds. Many had died. Bellatrix Lestrange, the other Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself had been huddled together in a mass grave deep in the Forbidden Forest, burned and then buried, as they deserved to be. 

They should not be buried with honors, or tears or even a tombstone, because not one cried forthey. He remembered Ron knocking frantically on the bedroom door that afternoon, Harry hadn't wanted to get up since breakfast to watch the Heroes' Funeral, and everyone wondered where Harry Potter was. Why was he not there to pay his respects to those who had sacrificed for him? Why didn't you have the courage to look the family in the eye without being able to apologize for taking their lives? Harry's only thought of consolation was that they would have fought anyway, even if he hadn't been the cause, to defend the wizarding world had it been at the hands of the Death Eaters or anyone who hurt more innocents.

Ron was gone from the other side of the door after he shouted his name, and called for many minutes, but Harry remained in bed, silent, on his side and hiding his face from anyone who managed to open the lock and see him there, huddled and weeping for those he loved and had lost. Again he remembered that he was about to leave Hogwarts forever, to leave that place destroyed, but still in his heart, his eternal home. He chased away his thoughts and tried to change the subject.

"I forgot to ask Neville, you know. Before I left this morning." Harry said, watching now the last copper-colored sun rays lying down at the sunset and shy stars shine in the distance of the deep and increasingly dark sky. "Asking how he got the Griphook Griffindor's sword, since he stole it from us while we were at Gringotts.

"Ah," Hermione exclaimed and swung her legs over the balcony railing, still a little distracted by the sight of the wreckage beneath the three. "He told me, you know. When we went to the St Mungus. Neville said he took the sword when it appeared to him, it appears that it disappeared when Griphook was killed. He just didn't want to tell me where and when, he looked mysterious." And then Hermione turned to pour another glass of pumpkin juice and brought it to her lips.

"Well, Harry, you've been thinking about Ted, right? I mean…" And she turned to look Harry in the eye. "You have responsibilities for him, now that Professor Lupine and Tonks... well... you know."

Ron stared at the two of them with a half-rigid face, frightened by Hermione's unexpected change of subject, and turned his eyes to his own drink, muttering something inaudible. The sky was now dyed an indigo blue as it was covered with sparkling dots, and that sight distracted the boy for a millisecond before leaping back to the ground, leaving the parapet and picking up the food basket. Harry hadn't thought about Ted until then. His head was so full of thoughts and obsessions, afraid of what would come next, of what he would become when he graduated, of how he would live, in the guilt of the deaths he could have avoided that he had not even thought of Ted Lupine, son of Nymphadora Tonks and her father's old friend, and former professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Remus Lupin. 

He was now the godfather of the baby they both left to save Harry, and then a new wave of guilt and pain washed over his head, piling up another stone on top of the others he felt carrying heavily on his back.

A horrible thought came to light. Ted had lost his parents to save Harry, leaving him with less than a year to live, just like himself. What if the little boy had to take shelter with distant relatives, with Muggles, who hated and mistreated him as the Dursleys did for so many years? No, he couldn't think of that. Harry shook his head when he stood up and felt that he was tightening the handle on the basket too hard. At least Ted was left with his grandmother, Andromeda - a wizard - who would certainly give all the necessary love and care that Ted deserved. And when, if he wanted to, and so he could, when he reached the age of attending Hogwarts, he would offer him the same house that now belonged to Harry, the same that his own godfather also offered him to live in, the same place that Sirius wished he had gone.

"Of course I will take care of him, I will be close to him. If he wants." Harry replied to his friend, after long seconds that seemed like an eternity of reflection. "I can't take the place of his parents, but... nor Sirius wanted him when mine died, but I can try to be a good godfather. I hope so."

"Brillant." Hermione stepped forward, to the two friends. "I guess I decided what I'm going to do when we officially graduate from Hogwarts. I mean, in future plans, you know."

Ron and Harry looked at her in surprise, as it seemed like centuries that they heard their friend say something like that, in the moments when they asked them what they would do with the notes O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts. At that time, Harry had said that he really wanted to be an Auror, but then at that moment, he wasn't so sure anymore. Harry’s entire focus in recent years was just the Dark Lord and Prophecy, who had barely thought about the possibility of it all ending so soon - and with his whole body to seriously think about what profession he would pursue.

"In what?" Ron's voice echoed to the side, with a somewhat mocking tone and Hermione frowned at him, annoyed. She ran her hands through her thick hair and replied:

"Well, I was thinking... to join the Ministry of Magic for some position, or…"

She paused and took a breath. Again he continued: "Proceed with what Bathilda Bagshot worked on. I mean, continue with the book A History of Magic from the point that it ended. Writing, you know. Write about... about everything that happened to us. About Voldemort. About Harry."

Then there followed a few minimal seconds of silence, and Ron with Harry who had turned to his friend and stared at them completely surprised. That was certainly new, since they had no idea that Hermione might have shown any interest in pursuing a writing career. Harry - more than anyone, even Ron - believed faithfully that the friend with all that intelligence, would try to go as far as possible, as Dumbledore had done as a young, and had already caught himself once or twice imagining Hermione arriving at Minister of Magic a few years later. But, he also knew more than anyone, that all those experiences had abruptly sealed their reality with what they dreamed of being, and that would really hinder how they saw each other when it was over, and everything was fine. But even so, he felt a wave of disappointment and embarrassment go through his body to the back of his neck. She didn't understand how her friend had arrived at that decision.

"Don't look at me like that."  She said, looking at the two a little angry, as she clearly expected another reaction from both. "I believe I'm doing it right thing. I believe that people should know the truth, know what happened. Knowing what has been done so that Evil doesn't affect the wizarding world again than pretending that nothing has happened, and helping who knows in the near future, some Hogwarts students to defend themselves better, knowing the story, don't you agree?"

"Bloody Hell, Mione." Ron snorted, rolling his eyes up. "It sounds like Rita Skeeter talking, huh? After all that she did with Harry and Professor Dumbledore's phony biography, and even more what she did to you, I thought you were the last person to want to pursue a career in something like that."

Ron had said the wrong thing, it was evident from the scary face that Hermione threw at her friend, as if she was going to stun him right there on the parapet, without any pity. Harry exclaimed but she was quicker to respond.

"That's not it." Hermione hissed at Ron. "I don't want to do anything, absolutely nothing, like that little Skeeter bug. Do not."

"Then…?"

"Something totally different from her, Ron!" Hermione roared. "Rita Skeeter is a troll on a woman's body, she wanted to gossip, spread lies, everything to sell and guarantee more galleons. Of course, as much as it pains me to say, she got some points in her research right, but the way she did it is purely disgusting to me. Not! Me," And then he pointed at himself, with an air of satisfaction in his voice now. "I want to correct the lies that that toad made. I want to write about the history of the wizarding world since the beginning of the 20th century, how Hogwarts grew up, how Voldemo…"

Ron cringed when she spoke the name of the Dark Lord. 

"Oh, no Ron! He's gone, you don't have to be afraid of his name anymore. How Tom Riddle's Voldemort achieved so many atrocities, how Dumbledore formed the Order of the Phoenix, and how Harry and we found the Deathly Hallows and the Horcruxes. You know, I really think that everyone needs to know, keep all this and keep it from happening a second time."

"What? Second time? Write about the Death Hollows and the Horcruxes? You are crazy!? This is quite the opposite of what we want. I mean, if people know about them… bloody hell, we work so hard to avoid talking about it with the teachers as Dumbledore ordered, and you want…"

"No, Ron. I don't want to teach you how to make Horcruxes or where the Death Hallows were, don't you both understand?" Hermione waved her hand, somewhat patiently. "I don't want to explain how to get them, but how and for what they existed. I think that all students should have the right to remedy their curiosity about what we did during the months of escape, how Harry managed to come back to life, like... well, you know."

And then she looked over his shoulder and saw Harry standing there looking at her still. 

"Of course, I'm just telling you a plan. I won't do anything if you don't agree, of course. I haven't even started anything."

Harry knew what she meant when she said that wish. He knew that Tom Riddle had used extraordinary and cruel methods due to the lack of descriptions of the Horcruxes and had just been defeated for not knowing all the Death Hallows, which would benefit them in a point of view if someone al intentionally tried to follow the same paths as Voldemort in the future, the lack of responsible books on how to overcome the limits of Death. But he understood what Hermione meant. 

In a few years, everyone could forget what they had actually done, the hardships and trials they had spent in the forests camping, looking for and looking for invisible information for the next step in a larger plan, but without success. She remembered the frustrations she had with her friend, the fights with Ron, all because she didn't know where to go, how to do, what to do, while friends suffered. Not to mention that, he was already very famous and now after that battle, he could put more eyes on his scar and he would return to being a point of rumors and other lying things when curiosity for the lack of information started. Hermione didn't want to reveal Dumbledore's secrets, but to tell how they got there. As everything had actually walked, and reaching that conclusion, he put the basket on the floor and put a hand on Hermione's back, who was surprised by Harry's sudden unexpected hug from behind, and released her quickly.

"Well, I think the idea is good. But I don't know if the Ministry of Magic would like us to make our point of view so accessible as well. Isn't it, Ron?"

Ron just snorted again and put his chin in his hands, staring at the sky as if nothing else was interesting. And after a few moments, he asked:

"So, do you have a plan of what you're going to do when you leave Hogwarts, man?"

He asked now, and Hermione still sitting on the parapet but facing Harry, both expressions of curiosity. Harry hadn't even talked to his friends much about what he was going to do next, about his ultimate goal, about what Harry Potter intended to do now that he finally and definitely defeated Lord Voldermort. And, catching himself rambling with those very words that came from himself, Harry smiled and looked at his friends. 

He wanted to have that image engraved in his memory, the three of them there in a corner of the castle, away from everyone, making small talk and eating treats, barely knowing that all that precious and carefree moment would be over soon.

(...)

Harry, Ron and Hermione and Luna were accommodated on the train back to Hogsmeade station, the Hogwarts Express had left a few hours ago. The boys were housed in the usual cabin at the end of the train, which was actually practically empty, taking them and just a few other students who were still unable to apparate, injured, and had not yet returned, plus some representatives of the Ministry of Magic who for some reason, they were also there. 

Harry thought they were on the train to watch him, and drawing that conclusion, he spent the journey watching the landscape of trees penetrating, blurring at high speed through the window. Hermione was reading one of the newspapers, editions of the Daily Prophet that were huddled together and tied in a single string on her lap. Ron now nibbled a carefree chocolate frog, and Luna was staring at the window with Harry. 

They stayed that way since they went up in a long silence, after all it was the first and one of the last two times that they would leave school, and it was only a fact that the four - since Luna had been kidnapped to the Malfoys' house - should return to provide the services. supplementary courses, and definitely graduate in a few months. Harry thought again about the Weasley family, and if somehow if George and Ginny would be angry with him for missing Fred's funeral, if they felt his weakness for the next few days - not that Ron had shown it or quoted those brothers' feelings, but the stones of the subconscious weight of guilt weighed him down as much as before they came back and faced Voldemort. What should have relieved him, now weighed him down even more in his heart.

Almost suddenly, he saw the smudges pass by the window and remembered what Dumbledore had said to him in the vision of after he died, talked to him in that form at Kingscross Station: "Don't pity the dead, Harry, have pity for the living, and above all those who live without love ”. It was clear that those who had died died with love, fighting for love, for what they believed, and, holding on to it, Harry let out a heavy sigh that the whole cabin heard.

"What did McGonagall want to talk to you about when we got back to the Common Room, Harry?" Hermione's voice called out to him, and Harry had been pulled from his brief detours into reality.

"Heh? Oh. She wanted to ask me a few more questions and handed me a letter, and went back to the principal's office. Only that." And he pulled from one of the sleeves of his indigo wool coat and showed a small brown envelope with the typical red wax seal with the Hogwarts symbol on his tongue. "This one here."

"Gee, haven't you opened it yet?" Ron asked now, looking at the letter. "And if it was an important thing who needed to answer soon?"

"Ah, don't be so silly." Harry smiled, analyzing the letter for a few more seconds and putting it away again, turning back to the window. "Professor McGonagall told me to open it when I got home and reflect on the content and that I could answer it later, don't you remember what I said?"

"No. I was too worried about the train leaving and packing my trunk than knowing every detail." Ron snorted and Hermione shot him an ugly look. "She's been staying in Dumbledore's office a lot since the Battle, isn't she? When did we see it right since everything happened?"

"Principal, Ron." Hermione said. "It's Principal McGonagall, now. She was Deputy Headmaster at Hogwarts, they forgot. It is obvious that she was elected the new Director of Hogwart."

And then she folded a piece of the thick volume from the previous week of the Daily Prophet in her lap, showing the moving photograph of the newest nominated Headmistress.

"If I were you, Harry." Hermione added. "I would read the letter as soon as possible, see?"

"Right." He replied the friend, now with a certain involuntary coldness in his voice, as he had no desire to discuss anything at that moment, not even by a simple letter.

"I thought the Ministry of Magic would try to put someone in their position after Snape... well, you know... "And Ron glanced at Harry and went back to Hermione and Luna. "I mean ... I'm glad the Ministry made a deal, right. For once."

"Yeah." Hermione agreed, folding the newspaper and lifting the batteries and laying them on the floor, yawning. "I want to go back soon, I have to say hello to everyone and Apparate to Australia. Review my parents, explain what happened. You know."

(To be continue next Post...)

[littlekoeppel01]

❤💙IMAGENES SONADOW Y MAS💙❤ - "Otrop"\:v/ (on Wattpad) https://my.w.tt/FXwkk4GrjW PARA LOS FANS DE SONADOW AQUI TIENEN I ship them hard guys

[rock-leo]

sms → @giannadamico​

gia:  Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.

leo: recerds el nom bre de ese lugar de comid rápida q descubrisom el otrop dia? leo: quieor una hamburgsa GRANDE. 

[daisyri-me]

Specialty Silica Market to Account for USD 4.43 billion by 2022

The specialty silica market global size is expected to value at USD 4.43 billion by 2022. The market is subject to witness a substantial growth credited to the rising demand in the automotive as well as paints & coatings sector, and growing need for precipitated silica in the packaged food industry. Some of the key factors attributing to the growth of the specialty silica industry are constant demand of specialty silica in different industrial applications such as rubber, packaged food industry, healthcare sector, paint & coatings sector, production of plastics and abrasives.

Significant demand for the specialty silica in production of rubber and a few other industries to achieve high performance level is propelling growth of the specialty silica market in recent years. The use of the precipitated silica provides numerous advantages such as superior wear resistance and wet grip during manufacturing of the tires to offer superior performance. Subsequently, expansion of the automotive industry in the developing and underdeveloped economies is further expected to drive growth of the market in coming years.

Access Sample Report of this report @ https://www.millioninsights.com/industry-reports/specialty-silica-market/request-sample

Globally, the specialty silica industry is predicted to grow at a high CAGR in the forecast period, providing numerous opportunity for market players to invest for research and development in the market. Additionally, increasing personal expenditure, and rising penetration in various market segments alongside number of latest product launches across different regions of the globe are the key aspects driving the market progress over forecast period. The use of specialty silica is significantly prominent in cosmetics industry as well. Launch of latest set of products with distinct product format and numerous technological advancement in the specialty silica market is boosting industry growth in coming years.

Adoption of specialty silica for production of variety of perfumes and colognes is on the rise, thereby expanding market reach. Similarly, paint and coating market segment is anticipated to gain maximum traction over the forecast period. The application of fumed silica in paint and coating market involves management of rheological properties similar to this otroping drivers, anti-settling drivers and to provide required safety from erosion and oxidation over period of time. The common type of specialty silica such as fumed silica consist of a substantial amount of surface area which is highly preferred in paint and coating industry segment, making the industry most vibrant in the consummation of the specialty silica.

Though the growing presence of substitutes material is one of the critical factors limiting the progress of the specialty silica industry. The use of materials such as carbon black in tire and automotive sectors is further restraining the market growth. Carbon black is considered as a refined chemical that is produced by smoldering hydrocarbons along with regulated quantity of air. Yet, environmental-friendly properties of silica over carbon black, is allowing revolution of the market in the automotive sector.

Various application of the specialty silica includes manufacturing of rubber, plastics, paint coatings, packaged-food industry, health-care sector, and abrasives and refractories. Some of the additional applications of the specialty silica product involves agro-chemicals, de-foamers, plastics, adhesives and sealants. Substantial growth in the demand of specialty silica is creating space for the specialty silica market in agrochemical applications in upcoming years.

The market is divided into regional market segment such as North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, Latin America and Africa. North America has shown major growth in recent years owing to high-end demand in the construction sector such as the paints and coating segment and presence of leading industry players.

Complete Report Available @ https://www.millioninsights.com/industry-reports/specialty-silica-market

Asia-Pacific region is predicted to hold major market share in the market with massive growth in forecast period. Countries such as India, China, Thailand and Japan are leading the Asia-Pacific market with ever-growing automotive sector, rising construction and infrastructure activities and increasing investment by prominent market players considering potential market opportunities. The key players in the specialty silica industry are Tosoh Co., Wacker Group, Oriental Silicas Co., Nissan Chemical Industries Ltd., Nippon Aerosil Co., and Evonik Industries.

Market Segment:

Product Outlook (Volume, Kilotons; Revenue, USD Million; 2012 - 2022)     • Precipitated silica     • Silica gel     • Fused silica     • Colloidal silica     • Fumed silica

Get in touch

At Million Insights, we work with the aim to reach the highest levels of customer satisfaction. Our representatives strive to understand diverse client requirements and cater to the same with the most innovative and functional solutions.

Contact Person:

Ryan Manuel

Research Support Specialist, USA

Email:ryan@millioninsights.com

[redebcn]

Exposição 'Ludugero e Otrope: Muita Saudade' é realizada em Caruaru

Exposição ‘Ludugero e Otrope: Muita Saudade’ é realizada em Caruaru

Evento está sendo realizado até o dia 17 de outubro, no Museu do Barro. Exposição Ludugero e Otrope: Muita Saudade Prefeitura de Caruaru/Divulgação A Exposição “Ludugero e Otrope: Muita Saudade” está sendo realizada até o dia 17 de outubro, no Museu do Barro, em Caruaru, no Agreste de Pernambuco. Em homenagem ao nascimento do Coronel Ludugero, estão sendo expostos textos de jornais, objetos…

[aven90]

Quel che un asparago avrebbe detto.../14

Quel che un asparago avrebbe detto…/14

14 … se gli alfieri non fossero scaricatori di responsabilità C’era una volta un porto, nella cittadina di Otrop, prima che il mare prendesse le valigie e se ne andasse. “Passami quel carrello!” stava dicendo uno. Altri ancora stavano ripetendo a pappagallo tutto ciò che si diceva tra scaricatori. Un asparago si avvicinò a un pescatore, che come sempre faceva tutto quel che il suo mestiere…

[otropstories]

Amor X Arena (2013) - Capítulo 08

This post is an version of “Amor X Arena”, my fanfiction released in 2013. For the english version, coming soon.

                                           Capítulo 8

Ainda estou em estado de choque. Como se nada fizesse sentido. O que está acontecendo comigo?

O rosto pálido daquele homem velho e enrugado aos poucos vai sumindo da minha mente, conforme o carro de Gale vai chegando aos muros da escola. Mesmo assim, a sua silhueta continua grudada na minha cabeça, com seu nome na aerotela piscando ao seu lado, como se me alertasse de algum perigo eminente.

Eu estava sendo avisada. Eu podia sentir isso. Como se o aviso fosse um presságio.

Estava me lembrando. Outra memória.

Políticos corruptos não era novidade para mim. Não era novidade para ninguém neste mundo, havia uma baciada de homens e mulheres bem vestidos com seus ternos brancos ou cinzentos, cabelos em coque alto e barbas bem feitas, e olhos penetrantes. Eu os mesma os via por aí... pessoas comuns como eu, com famílias e amigos, felizes até a Dívida nos afetar de maneira global. Muitos perderam suas casas. A maioria acabou como eu, vivendo de sobras e lutando por sobrevivência, até a manhã seguinte. Alguns mais corajosos dente nós, não aceitaram a cobrança desumana da Dívida, e fizeram protestos e rebeliões contra os partidos que quiseram nos por nas linhas. Eles acabaram se tornando Renegados com as rebeliões. 

Marbleize disse que isso tudo aconteceu por início, muito antes de eu nascer. Até então, até que alguns Renegados mais velhos tiveram uma ajuda secreta interna da parte do Governo que também sofria com a Dívida. Sim. Não eram todos os poderosos que estavam se beneficiando com aquilo. Apenas um pequeno grupo político em especial, que comandava por trás dos panos. Tudo precisava ser perfeito aos seus olhos. Eleições, promessas de melhoria e redução de custos para a população, casa, alimento e segurança era o que os dois Partidos de onde vivíamos, prometiam por meios de suas lábias mentirosas.

Era como se os outros continentes do Planeta não existissem mais, apenas o nosso "novo e melhorado" país.

Estranhamente, os aeroportos do país estavam sendo fechados, todas as viagens para outros países e continentes, este ano esta sendo proibido. Eu não entendia. Com o passar dos anos, os Renegados deixaram de existir. Ou melhor, os covardes se esconderam quando não podiam mais contar com a Força exterior das influências dos outros países do nosso planeta.

O que estava acontecendo com a América do Norte?

Todos acreditavam na vitória de Snow nas Eleições deste ano. Ele e aquela mulher concorriam a mais de um mês nas Eleições. Havia boatos que Snow era um antigo Renegado, mas nenhuma prova vou apresentada contra ele nas acusações. Ele apenas sorria, e prometia melhorias, como um bom político. A mulher agora perdera. Ele concorria à reeleição após uma indicação de nosso Ex-Presidente, Barack Obama. Os dois tremiam diante da tela, mas com a postura de educados, apertando as mãos do novo Presidente dos Estados Unidos e o colocando agora de bom grado. Os partidos do Capital e Distrito Evolucionista estavam acirrados.

Não sabíamos no que Snow iria fazer agora. Mal o conhecíamos. Apareceu na política do nada, o que fortificavam as suspeitas de que ele era um Renegado disfarçado. Mas agora estava feito, o poder estava nas mãos dele por longos anos. O que mais me preocupava, era as promessas estranhas dele que recapitulavam as duas semanas atrás antes das Eleições finais:

"Prometo Paz. Prometo um mundo onde não viveremos mais em Guerras, conflitos ou Fome. Principalmente Fome, lutarei contra os desperdícios desnecessários, mesmo que eu terei que me tornar o vilão da história..." e depois gargalhava de leve, com as mão na boca, pronto para tossir.

Os pesadelos. O novo Presidente dos Estados Unidos ter surgido do nada. Eu ter acordado do na cozinha, bêbada. Eu falar de um Peeta. Do nada, achar que minha família sempre foi pobre, e acordar e ver que na verdade, somos ricos.

Isso me dava medo...

                                                           [...]

– Está tudo bem Katniss...? – A Voz de Gale me trás de volta para a realidade por um pisar de olhos, e então percebo que estou rígida, com olheiras e observando o acento da frente do carro, como se aquilo fosse a coisa mais atraente do mundo; mas na verdade, estava perdida nos devaneios, relembrando os últimos acontecimentos do Mundo nas cindo últimas décadas.

– ... K-Katniss....? Katniss... Ei...  – Gale balança a mão na minha frente, pra frente e para trás para me acordar. Sem resultado, ele estala os dedos fortemente próximo do meu ouvido esquerdo, que me sobressalta de imediato, me puxando e eu acabo gritando de susto.

Eu pulo para o chão. Gale tenta me levantar, e percebo que estou suada e pálida, além de estar tremendo. Os olhos de Gale tentam reconhecer a garota que está caída do seu carro, mas não reconhece. Não sou eu. Este não é o meu normal.

– Calma! Katniss...  – Ele me levanta mais uma vez para o estofamento do Camaro, e limpa meu suor do rosto com a sua camisa, levando em seguida as costa da sua mão na minha testa para medir a minha febre.  – Meu Deus! Pare de tremer, o que aconteceu com você de uma hora pra outra?

– E-eu... não sei...  – Preciso usar todas as minhas forças para falar e respirar ao mesmo tempo, e sinto uma dor no peito como se fosse um tumor - Eu... estava... eu... tive outro pesadelo esta noite... estou muito confusa, sinceramente.   – Abaixo a cabeça, realmente envergonhada.

– Ah, isso de novo!? Já é sei lá... o septuagésimo esse ano. De boa, Katniss, você devia relaxar mais antes de dormir.  – Gale diz já me puxando para fora do carro, buscando nossas mochilas do outro lado enquanto o tranca o carro silenciosamente.

– Septuagésimo?

– É. Pois é, cara...  – Ele dá um grunhido de leve ao fazer força para fechar o capô, e joga minha mochila na minha direção, e acabo caminhado com ele automaticamente, e ele me puxa pela cintura enquanto passamos pelos outros alunos.  – Você tem pesadelos desde que te conheci, quando tinha catorze anos, não se lembra? Estávamos na Floresta do Parque Nacional, e estava tentando montar armadilhas para tentar pegar um esquilo com minha rede...  – Gale sorri com a lembrança  – Estava na moita, e estava prestes a conseguir um, quando você chegou, e pegou o meu coelho para si, e tentou fugir tranquilamente.

– Mas você entrou na minha frente me dando um susto, dizendo que roubo tinha pena de morte. – Sorrio para ele de volta, também não me esquecendo da memória.  – Na verdade, acho que eu deveria ter uns doze anos, quando nos conhecemos.

– Katniss... – Sua voz já fica em um tom mais grave e séria  – O que anda acontecendo com você...? Já faz duas semanas que você não vem para a escola, como se evitasse alguém... eu acho que esse alguém era eu...

– Não! De jeito nenhum! Eu...  – Eu tinha certeza de que não era Gale. Realmente, estava evitando de encontrar alguém que nem sabia quem era na Escola, mas tinha a certeza de que não era Gale. Tinha medo de que o destino dos meus pesadelos se tornassem realidade, então do nada eles surgem na minha cabeça, todos os setenta.

– Vou te dar um tempo então. Você anda com a cabeça cheia, desde que sua mãe se casou novamente.

– É. Pois é. Deve ser isso.  – Confirmo sem certeza.  – Gale...

Gale e eu paramos de andar. Ficamos bem em frente à escada de mármore para a porta do colégio, por detrás do canto ao lado do sino, escondidos dos outros. Gale ergue as sobrancelhas para mim, sem entender. Mas eu sei. Conheço Gale. Sua conversa de mudar de assunto não irá funcionar comigo, não agora. Eu sei que ele não deixaria impune o que aconteceu no carro, ele irá atrás do garoto. Fico gélida com o que Gale seria capaz de fazer por ciúmes.

– Você me faria um favor...? 

– É claro, Catnip. Você sabe que sim. 

– Será que... poderia esquecer? Digo... do que aconteceu no carro? 

Gale me vira pelas costas, e me olha profundamente, sério. Tento revidar, mas estou muda feito uma palhaça, a silhueta maligna daquele velho não sai da memória da aerotela. Gale apenas, me abraça e sussurra:

– Tudo bem. Já passou. Eu realmente ando preocupado com você. Você sabe que você é tudo pra mim, Katniss.

Gale tenta me beijar novamente, mas eu desvio mais uma vez. Um rosto de desaprovação. Sinto que quero sair correndo dali, e fugir. Ele volta a olhar nos meus olhos, que voltam e sibilar ódio. Mais uma vez, eu o cortei. O descartei, por mais simples que um beijo represente. O sino do nosso lado insiste em bater em alto e bom som. Vários alunos correm para dentro do prédio, puxando seus pertences e amigos até as salas e aula vazias. Gale não me larga. Apenas olha os outros caminharem para porta principal e olhar para mim. Ele percebe o aperto que me prendeu, e então me larga devagar, permitindo que meus músculos respirem. Tento falar alguma coisa pra ele, mas ele me puxa para caminhar para a sala de aula, e diz:

– Não se preocupe, Catnip. Eu vou resolver esse problema.  – Com um sorriso malicioso, beija o topo da minha testa, e volta a caminhar. Não consigo segui-lo. Não imaginando no que poderia acontecer.

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O sinal é tocado pela segunda vez. Sabemos o que isso significa: horário do almoço. Penso em procurar Gale com Bristel e Thom, seus respectivos amigos da Academia. Durante o caminho para o almoço, outra memória me ocorre.

A família de Thom era Renegada, mas nem Gale, nem eu parecíamos nos importar com o seu passado agora. Eu, inclusive não tenho muitos amigos. Poucos vezes converso dos outros alunos ou pessoas das Montanhas Apalaches, ou me integro na sociedade. Prefiro ficar isolada, e sozinha com minha paz. Tenho uma conhecida, Madge, com quem eu troco poucas palavras, e sendo tão solitária quanto eu, sempre almoçamos juntas na cantina escolar. Hoje, comia com ela, como sempre fazia.

Eu ainda estava um pouco cansada e pálida dos pesadelos, e ainda por cima, a aula foi uma droga. Fico saboreando minha - inesperada - barra de granola vermelhas oferecidas por Madge, ao reparar que eu não tinha trazido nada para comer. Precisava me alimentar, embora eu confirmasse mentalmente para Madge que vomitaria tudo para fora por causa da minha ressaca.

– Tentei falar com você ontem, mas você não atendia o telefone.  – Inicia Madge do nada, quebrando o silêncio de nós duas. Ela não olha para mim, e apenas degusta sua supertrufa com um pouco de pão fresco.

– Eu tinha saído.  – Respondo no mesmo fio fraco de voz, comparando minha barra de granola com sua supertrufa pelo olhar.

– O dia todo? Comecei a ficar preocupada... quero dizer... pensei na possibilidade de ter fugido para a Floresta do Parque Nacional, e passado a noite lá... eu não sei.

– Acha mesmo que eu teria fugido para a floresta?  – Tento sorrir meio irônica, mas Madge ainda não levanta seu olhar para mim tímida, e apenas confirma suas palavras com a cabeça.

– Ainda tem dúvidas, Katniss?  – Ela molha um pouco do chocolate derretido da supertrufa no seu pão, e o enfia boca a dentro degustando com prazer.  – Todos sabemos que seria provável que fugiria para o Parque. Todo mundo sabe.

Então me vem mais uma memória. Sim, Madge tem razão. Quando eu era criança, meu pai quando tinha tempo livre, nos levava para a Campina e o santuário secreto de árvores com galhos entrelaçados como um teto com suas frestas de luz iluminando o lago...

Jo havia criado uma trilha segura entre a floresta para a Campina. O seguia para o Lago onde passávamos das horas distraídos, pescando, nadando, colhendo flores e caçando. Meu Pai me ensinara a caçar, pois acreditava que um dia poderia ser útil para mim, mas olhando para minha situação agora, foi em vão. Observava eu pai manuseando sua lança e um arco e flecha que havia enterrado no tronco oco de uma árvore morta lá dentro, mas eu nunca o desenterrei por até hoje nunca precisar. Podia ver as horas passando, com meu pai colhendo flores e plantas estranhas, cheirando e observando de perto, até esfregando as folhas no pulso.

O pulso de meu pai ficara inchado depois de esfregar uma planta de raízes amareladas e folhas verde escuras mais escurecidas do que as plantas normais. Eu era pequena, e havia me assustado ao ver seu pulso roxo e gigantesco e conforme as expressões da face de Jo, ardia e latejava muito. Tentei correr até o lago e pegar água para suavizar, mas quando voltei com o avental encharcado até a borda de água, meu pai já soltava grunhidos de alívio ao refrescar o local inchado com um pouco de Amoras-Cadeado.

“Essas amoras são perigosas e venenosas, minha filha. Sempre se lembre de nunca, nunca mesmo come-las, ou poderá morrer em poucos segundos pelo veneno da fruta.” Ele olhava para mim, como se me desse uma lição.

Afirmava que entendi com a cabeça, e ele se levantava, ainda sentindo um pouco de incômodo no local infectado.

“Isso é incrível...” Continuava ele. “Mesmo assim, sua polpa é ácida, mas medicinal e refrescante. Não sei como ela causa isso. Esse é mais uns dos milagres de Deus, que não pode passar sem ser registrado.” Ele apontava para sua jaqueta extra de couro. “Katniss, traga minha outra jaqueta de couro ao seu lado.”

Puxei a jaqueta, e estendo para meu pai, que apenas corta duas parcelas retangulares da área mais sólida do tecido, e o entrelaça com várias dezenas de folhas limpas do meu caderno da escola. Ele cola as folhas cuidadosamente e com paciência cada uma, com seiva da casca de uma árvore de borracha, e o fecha com um suporte duro com as costas quadradas da sua bota também de couro arrancada, e seu cinto, formando um lacre. Ele olha para o caderno "novo" meio orgulhoso, e molha um pouco de nanquim na ponta de ferro da flecha e me pede para escrever com a melhor caligrafia possível. Meu pai não sabia escrever e ler. 

“Este livro vai nos ajudar agora a ordenar as plantas das comestíveis, das medicinais e até das perigosas, assim não corremos risco de novo.”

Meu pai então começa a ditar todas as informações da experiência da planta de caule amarelo e olhas verde escuras como a noite, além de descrever os benefícios e perigo da Amora-Cadeado. Em seguida ele pausa, e tento desenhar as plantas o máximo que consigo, para não esquecermos da sua aparência novamente.

– Katniss...  – Madge cutuca meu braço, e eu apenas pisco várias vezes, como se estivesse sonhando. Minha cabeça agora lateja, e preciso de alguns segundos para minha mente me informar, que não era uma lembrança verdadeira minha.

Meu pai nunca me levou para a Floresta. Foi um outro sonho idiota...

– Se... sexagésimo primeiro....  – Logo um pouco devagar demais, em um fio de voz quase sussurrando.

– O quê...?

– Sexagésimo primeiro. Meu pesadelo sexagésimo primeiro. Tive ele dois anos atrás.  – Digo como se minha mente se iluminasse de repente.

– Você... ainda não se libertou disso, não é?  – Sussurra Madge.

Ela era umas das poucas pessoas que conheciam meus pesadelos que tinha desde que conheci Gale.

– Não.

– Olhe Katniss... desculpa ter tocado em um assunto que provavelmente, te daria lembranças... não tão boas...  – Ela suspira em seguida, abrindo outro envelope de supertrufa e enfiando-o na boca.

– Não. São lembranças lindas. Pena que não são reais. Só isso que me desconforta. – Fico meio cabisbaixa, tentando observar o longe além. – Alguns pesadelos não são bem pesadelos. Alguns raramente que tenho, são realmente sonhos.

Madge para de comer, me observando. Ela parece notar minha infelicidade ao saber que fora apenas pura imaginação desenfreada - segundo ela - e volta a degustar seu doce em silêncio. Mais alguns segundos eternos se entende pela cafeteria, e sinto que irei explodir.

– Onde conseguiu isso?  – Pergunto para ela do nada, observando atentamente o doce em sua boca, ignorando a minha barra de granola já salivando. Eu quero é chocolate, por algum motivo que desconheço.

– Uma supertrufa? – Ela se assusta com meu pedido, já me encarando com uma careta. Lembrança. Eu só comia coisas saudáveis e isso a espanta imediatamente. – Se quiser, pode pegar esta aqui, mas ela já está toda mordida...

– Não... tudo bem.  – Me esquivo da supertrufa salivada de Madge fazendo uma careta de nojo. Madge começa uma gargalhada com minha reação envergonhada, e aponta para uma bancada atrás de mim enquanto ri.

– Ali  – Ela firma o dedo indicador para bancada com um sorriso.  – Tem uma panificadora pequena no fim do refeitório, com uma pequena prateleira de doces ao lado das cestas de pães recém-saídos. Comer chocolate aqui é proibido, e as supertrufas são caríssimas, mas alguns voluntários da detenção de hoje estão ajudando na cantina. Um deles, meu amigo me deu um "desconto" para conseguir essas duas aqui. – Ela aponta para o seu doce e um outro papel de vazio. – Talvez se falar com ele, ele te ajude também, se está com desejo.

– Acho que vou mesmo. – Digo puxando algumas notas misteriosas de dinheiro vivo da calça. – Nem sei quanto que é.

– Vai lá. Olharei suas coisas. – Confirma Madge, e dando coragem.

– Obrigada. – Digo, me levantando e seguindo para os fundos, esbarrando em alguns alunos e desviando de umas mesas como um carro.

Chego na pequena panificadora do colégio, e me debruço na bancada, observando ao redor do estreito corredor onde passam alguns ajudantes de avental e um pouco sujos de farinha, resmungando enquanto atende os pedidos dos alunos na bancada principal. O espaço é limpo, e perfeitamente perfumado de pães fresquinhos saídos do forno. Não demora muito para eu sentir o aroma dos cookies e outros biscoitos amanteigados com doce de leite, com seu frescor que inala das frestas dos fornos bem na minha frente. Fico na ponta dos pés, na tentativa de alcançar aqueles biscoitos mesmo, já que minha visão não acha as supertrufas, decido pegar por conta própria. Mas meu braço não é longo o suficiente para alcançá-los. Tento chamar alguém para me atender, mas as poucos ajudantes (obrigados estar ali trabalhando) estão todos ocupados e desatentos, entrando e saindo da cozinha.

Decido pular da bancada e me agacho para me esconder dos outros alunos, e sigo para a porta do outro lado, onde o cheio doce parece maior. Parece que estou no paraíso. Dezenas de fileiras de fogões, um pouco engraxados de óleo e completamente sujos de farinha de trigo, recentemente usados, um bandejas de doces, pães e algumas tortas nas bordas ainda quentes pelo que sinto, ao passar a mão por cima e sentir a fumacinha quente atravessá-la. Olho aos redores para ser se á alguém neste outra cozinha, mas estão fora,o que me faz girar os calcanhares e ir em direção na procura das supertrufas.

Sem sucesso, decido procurar nas prateleiras do chão dos longos armários cor de creme. Não demora muito, e enfim acho um pote secreto, com vários doces Pocket e algumas trufas normais de frutas, e por trás, as bombas de chocolate em forma de supertrufa. Solto um pequeno gemido de felicidade abafado, e então puxo o pote ainda gelado, e tento abri-lo com força, até perceber que ele está trancado com um cadeado.

– Parece que você encontrou meu tesouro secreto, mocinha.

Ouço uma voz masculina sussurrar no meu ouvido, e me sobressalto soltando imediatamente o pote no chão. Meu coração dispara do susto, e tento me levantar, mas estou arquejando tanto que não faço movimento nenhum. Ponho a mão o peito, e percebo que ele está realmente disparando agora, com uma bufada me levanto e me apoio na pia tateando ela para respirar tranquila.

– Droga. Que susto você e deu!

Tento abafar um pouco da risada que quero dar, mas me mantenho séria e arquejando. O rapaz, de calças brancas e de camiseta da mesma cor, com sapatos polidos e um avental um pouco sujo de massa vem na minha direção, e recupera o pote, o colocando na minha frente, tentando se desculpar.

– Oh, me desculpe. Não quis assustar você. – Ele retira uma mecha de cabelo do meu rosto, e a esconde por detrás da minha orelha. – Mas confesso que não esperava encontrar alguém aqui no meu esconderijo, ainda mais querendo roubar as supertrufas que eu faço.

– Me desculpe. Não quis roubar, eu iria encontrar alguém para pagar, eu juro! É que estava com tanto desejo de experimentá-las, que...  – Me viro, e olho pela primeira vez o rosto do rapaz.

Loiro, de cabelos dourados e um pouco bagunçados e sujos de farinha, com olhos azul-céu perfeitamente lapidados como diamantes de tão brilhantes que são ao me ver. Seu rosto é perfeitamente moldado em uma simetria belíssima, nada do seu rosto parece fora do lugar, ao não ser um pequeno arranhão perto do olho esquerdo, mas mesmo assim ele é bonito de perto. Noto também os músculos fartos dos seus dois braços expostos, não tão grandes, mas mesmo assim parece ser bastante forte.

Fico concentrada olhando para ele por alguns segundos, e parece que o mundo desaparece. Sinto-me um lixo perto da sua aparência atraente suja de farinha, que acabo me curvando e caminhando para trás.

– Ah, tudo bem. Você só me assusto um pouco. Acredito em você. – Ele sorri iluminada, mas me desvio friamente para o lado, rejeitando seu aperto de mãos estranho. – Eu te assustei? 

– Foi você que me assustou! Quem você pensa que é, indo sorrateiramente por trás de mim e sussurrar no meu ouvido? Era só ter gritado comigo, e puxado o pote de volta. 

– Gritar? Eu nunca faria isso. Ainda mais com uma menina bonita como você. 

Um sorriso se forma nos meus lábios, e fico meio lisonjeada com o elogio, embora eu mesma saiba que não é bem verdade. Sou normal. Com a mesma aparência das pessoas daqui, muito diferente da combinação dele. Ajeito minha camiseta ainda um pouco corada, e ele se redireciona na minha direção, abrindo pote com sua chave de pescoço, e entregando duas barras de supertrufas nas minhas mãos abertas.

– Tome. Pode ficar. – Ele empurra o doce na minha mão, mas fecho eu punho negativamente e desviando.

– Não! Não precisa fazer isso.

– Eu insisto.  – Ele sorri mais uma vez, cruzando olhares comigo.  – É o mínimo que posso fazer por ter lhe assustado. 

Eu acabo cedendo para ele ao notar ele abrir a embalagem, e o estender para mim enquanto enfio o doce na boca. Bom. Muito bom. O gosto delicado e meio amargo da supertrufa penetra meus sentidos da língua, que dançam e flutua sobre as bolhas de leite condensado derretido com pequenas nozes. Percebo o gosto de pedacinhos diminutos de morango ao chocolate branco-meio amargo na sua cobertura crocante com mel. Doce e enjoativo. Eu amei.

Dividimos os doces, e ficamos degustando em silêncio, com o rapaz dizendo que precisará voltar ao trabalho, e não poderá me cobrir quando sair da cozinha. Acabo apressando minha mastigação e o termino finalmente, sentindo então um gosto estranho de licor.

– O que é isso?  – Digo lambendo as poucas cascas da supertrufa que caiu na minha camisa, enquanto ele percebe que cheguei ao fim do doce.

– Viu? Coloquei um pouco de licor em cada supertrufa para fazer as pessoas sentirem vontade de comer mais. Ou seja, comprarem mais.  – Ele se levanta da pia, e fecha o pote novamente.  – Gostou?

– Meu Deus, isso é uma delícia!  – Digo realmente verdadeira. Ele sorri de felicidade, e puxa a outra e estende para mim, mas me recuso dizendo que vou engorda, e ele apenas gargalha e o enfia no bolço da minha calça.

– Este é o lance... ele também não engorda.  – Ele sorri ainda meio radiante.

– Como não? É tão cheio de açúcar que poderia fazer o coração de qualquer um explodir!  – Faço uma careta e levanto os braços para enfatizar o que dissera. Nós dois rimos juntos, e ele guarda novamente o pote indo na minha direção novamente.

– Acredite. Isso é um segredo só meu. Não posso contar para ninguém como eu o preparo.  

– E... para mim? Você contaria?

– Depende. Se eu ao menos soubesse o seu nome, e confiasse realmente em você.  – Ele gargalha, se sentando em um banquinho esperando minha resposta, enquanto limpa a pia mais próxima um pano umedecido olhando para o relógio de parece.

Dou um sorriso fraco, e me direciono para a porta para não mais incomodá-lo. Digo normalmente para que ele ouvisse, segurando com força minha trança por trás das costas.

– Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. E você?

O rapaz para de limpar, e observa as frestas da luz alaranjada que entram na cozinha pouco iluminada apenas pelas janelas. Eu mal o conheço e já lhe imploro para confiar em mim. Parece besteira, mas sinto que tem algo nele maior. Como se eu já tivesse o visto. O tocado. Como se seu tivesse uma grande dívida de vida com ele. Mas o que e uma besteira, só estou aqui por simples doces.

As luzes do pôr-do-sol de um quadro próximo na cozinha o distrai por um momento o deixando encantado, e e seguida, estende mais uma vez a mão direita para mim. Com um pouco de desconfiança e vergonha na face, agarro sua mão e a balançamos para cima e para frente, como sinal de respeito e amizade. Antes que eu pudesse acrescentar mais alguma coisa, ele enfim me responde:

– Peeta. Peeta Mellark. É um prazer te rever, Katniss. 

Minha respiração é cortada ao me lembrar dos pesadelos.

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