Wind and Snow

“Urgh! How can anyone stand this cold,” I grumbled as we were walking. “Marc, can you stand this? What’s up with this?”

“What’s with the complaining? It got really cold in the badlands sometimes,” he replied. “I mean, sure, it never snowed, but the wind could get intense.”

“That’s different,” I stated.

“You flew through storm clouds during weather resistance training,” he continued.

“That’s different! Doing all that has never felt as gross and wet and icy as it is now,” I insisted. “Badlands winter is fine; it just sort of blasts me in the face and whips around my hair. Like the sky.”

“So that’s what it is,” Marc sagely nodded.

“Don’t act like you know,” I retorted, then hugged myself. “Brrrgh! This cold… it’s slow! Insidious… remember when we went inside for a quick bite? The snow on me melted and caused the cold to stick to me! How can people stand it?!”

An extremely tall and burly guy noticed us. “Uhm,” he said.