Kaz shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, glaring at the cracked cement in front of him as he walked. The wind whipped and roared, tugging at his hood and throwing his mass of dull red curls into his eyes with each step. He scowled up at the oncoming storm, mottled grey clouds shimmering with the dull reds and violets they obscured. A particularly strong gust of wind rammed into him, forcing his eyes closed against the gust as it tore at his hood and ripped at his duffel bag. He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, grabbing blindly at his hood as he yanked it back over his head. "Fuck off!" he shouted up at the sky, holding his hood down over his head out of spite.

The wind only died down enough to allow a sheet of rain to fall on the sidewalk, soaking him before reducing to a drizzle. Kaz made a noise of exasperation, ripping his glasses off his face to wipe droplets of water off them before shoving them back into place. He continued to walk, grimacing at the rain as he made his way down the darkening sidewalk. Under different circumstances, he might have enjoyed the weather. But he knew this wasn't natural rain, at least in his opinion. He had gotten into a particularly bad fight with his aunt a day or so ago and had accidentally dragged an oncoming storm front in from sea two days early. He didn't even know he could get that angry. Hell, he had no idea that he could piss off the weather, too.

Kaz squinted down the road, headlights illuminating his face for a brief moment before passing. It seemed that no one wanted to be caught out in this storm. Your storm, came a thought, ugly and dark the way it twisted in his mind. He simply ignored it, scowling down the road as he fixed his gaze on the worn cement beneath his feet. He breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted the familiar lights of the salvage yard in the distance, dim orange illuminating the road through the oncoming fog. He resisted the urge to break into a jog, hugging his duffel bag closer to his side as another gust of wind tore into him. He finally reached the front gates, squinting at the rusted buzzer nailed to the crooked iron fencing.

It took a few tries for the call button to finally work, a shrill buzz alerting him that it had connected to one of the intercoms inside. He tapped his foot impatiently, shivering as another sheet of rain poured onto him. After a few minutes of waiting he pressed the buzzer again, frowning at it as he watched the short burst of electricity the motion caused travel through the wires towards the house. "Answer, damn it," Kaz muttered, his fingers beginning to grow numb and stiff from the cold. He pressed the buzzer a few more times for good measure, knocking his fist annoyedly against the tarnished grey box as if it might help.

The speaker suddenly crackled to life, a familiar voice coming through the intercom as a relieved smile worked its way across Kaz's face. "Kaz, hey, sorry amigo! Abuelo had me out covering some scrap metal, I'll buzz you in," came Atticus' voice, slightly garbled by the static of the ancient intercom system. There was a loud, lower-pitched buzz from the empty toll booth next to him before the chainlink fencing swung open, the ancient fencing squeaking in protest as it scraped against the ground. Kaz jogged inside as soon as the gates were open enough to slip through, the old hinges creaking shrilly behind him as he made his way towards the house. The crooked street lamps along the path towards the house lit up as he ran, a small smile quirking at Kaz's lips as he watched them.