Work Text:
“I thought you could control the weather,” Slam said, crossing his arms against his chest, as he stared out the window, Breeze standing next to him with a frown on his face.
“I can, but I can’t prevent it and can only manipulate it so much,” Breeze said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “If you’re lucky, you can be flying again by Friday.”
“Fridays so far though,” Slam complained, letting out a sigh.
The snow was coming down so dense that he couldn’t even see the house across the street. Slam would be an idiot to try and fly.