"Lady," he said, "could you fold your flappers, please? You're giving me a sunburn."
"What?" Nike's head jerked toward him like a startled chicken's. "Oh...my brilliant plumage. Very well. I suppose you can't die in glory if you are blinded and burned."
She tucked in her wings. The temperature dropped to a normal hundred-and-twenty-degree summer afternoon.
-Leo and Nike

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