Rachel Pidgely could have sworn she'd seen a whale. Staticky coughs chocked their way up her throat, burning like acid, as she squinted, desperately trying to see against the blinding wind. She struggled over to the edge of the boat and grasped the icy railing, feeling the freezing water splatter her face. Shivers rattled her spine, making her instantly regret not bringing a coat. A flash darted across her peripheral vision making her gasp a lungful of salt air in surprise.

"I found one!" She exclaimed in delight, knowing she'd finally be allowed inside. Dozens of heavy thumps promptly followed her outburst, the other crew members not wanting her to be kept waiting. Their quick response was one of the few things that made her grateful to be the captains' daughter. She longed to leave, be free to retire to the kitchen and cook with abandon. She loved cooking. Alas, her father, like the weather, was cold and unforgiving, and had refused to let her inside until they'd found a whale. Rachel grimaced as she felt a beard scratch against her face.

"Where is it?!" Shouted Maijabi, leaning over her shoulder and squinting at the turbulent farrago of blues and greys. Rachel blew a strand of Maijabi's snowy beard from her mouth in disgust before focussing back on the spot she'd glimpsed their prize. Another distinct flash caught her attention. She leant out, almost recoiling at the way the sea and gale whipped her arms, even through her long ashen sleeves.

"T-there!" She chattered, teeth rocking more violently than the boat. A gasp escaped her blue lips as an overwhelming feeling of ice pressed against and sunk into her shoes. She squeezed her eyes shut as the water sunk into her socks and sloshed around her toes.

"Quick! Griffin, get the camera!" Maijabi roared, frantically waving to the crew. She stepped away from the edge of the ship and gazed at Maijabi's warm silver coat with envy. It even looked waterproof. Meanwhile, she was trapped in a pale grey dress with a pinafore. Maijabi's expression softened as he took in the shivering mess she had become. "You've done well Rachel. Head inside and I'll send Miss Flowers in soon to fix you up a warm fire and coco." His proposition was like rich honey to her clouded mind. She nodded with some difficulty, and shuffled across the deck and into the parlour, wondering whether a whale was worth all this trouble. 

In which I had another school project. Don't ask me why they're looking for a whale. They're mad- sorry, 'rouge' scientists. What do you expect? I'm probably going to come back and expand on this later. If it's April, or past April when you're reading this, could you please remind me to expand on this? Thanks.