The wind was fast and hard, the rain was brutal, and Beau would be lyin’ like a damned snake if he said this wasn’t the time of his life.

He finds this euphoric thrill of chasin’ down these damn storms, it’s risky as hell—sure… But he doesn’t give a single fuck about it, and he probably never will. The feeling of watchin’ one so big, gusts so hard they knock over trees, rain so hard it could break asphalt… He lives for that shit.

Oaklahoma has had its hotspots recently, and he was determined to catch it. He can feel it in his heart when that storm reaches its peak, in his soul he can feel the beat of each raindrop against his face.

He was currently leaning against his truck, his cowboy hat tipped on his head with his eyes closed. Yeah of course he was exhausted, why wouldn’t he be?

The storm was fast, but not as fast as him.

He hits the side of the truck, almost like a pat for good luck before he looks up at his team. “Well… We ready?” he asks, his southern accent strong.