bad weather flying

FLYING IN HIGH WINDS can be the most exhilarating thing in the world. You just put your wings fully out and coast, doing micro-adjustments as needed to stay aloft. It’s a lot like surfing at the beach, riding the waves, except, you know, without the water. Or the beach. Or the surfboard.
At least, it’s fun like that when you don’t have to go anywhere and can take all the time in the world to enjoy Mother Nature’s roller coaster. If you need to go in any other direction, you’re screwed.
Fang and I are wicked strong, and our wings are, uh, not superhuman — I guess super-avian would be the term. But these were some freaking stiff winds, and on top of that, it was, to put it in words that won’t get edited out for younger kids, exceedingly cold.
Fang and I broke through the wind as best we could. We tried going above it, but before we got high enough, we realized we were so far up that we couldn’t see squat on the ground, even with raptor vision.
Teeth clenched, windburn tears streaming out of our eyes, we headed back down, staying close to each other. We started in small circles, then made them increasingly larger. And saw nothing. Nothing but whiteness. Ice. Rock. Snow. Right then, global warming seemed like a great idea.

The Final Warning Chapter 53


“There’s a hurricane report on TV,” she said. “It says it’s almost a Category five, and they think it was caused by global warming.”
There was that global warming again!
“There have always been hurricanes,” I pointed out.
“Not at this time of year. Plus, there are many, many more of them now, and they tend to be stronger and more destructive,” Fang told me.
I looked at him. “Okay, maybe global warming is bad,” I admitted.
He made a no-freaking-duh face, and then said, “Category fives have winds more than a hundred fifty-five miles an hour. In other words, enough to rip most things apart. Including us. There’s no way we can fly in it.”

The Final Warning Chapter 67