“Is it true your son died flying, Uncle? I heard you made him enormous wings, but they failed.” Daedalus’s hands clenched. “Take my place,” he muttered. The wind whipped around the boy, tugging at his clothes, making his hair ripple. “I would like to fly,” Perdix said. “I’d make my own wings that wouldn’t fail. Do you think I could?”
Men are so fucking dumb
