In two hours, the wind picked up and the waves began to swell. The sky grew even darker, the starlight choked by ominous black clouds. Clara felt the first drops of rain against her face as she leaned against the mast, bracing against the strengthening gale. Peter came up to the deck along with a few other members of the crew, roused by Captain Nightt in the moments prior. He scowled at the rains ahead.
"Couldn't have picked a worse time for it," he grumbled, "I was having the most wonderful dream. It was market day on the island, and all of the stalls were deserted. I walked through the aisles and took whatever I wanted."
Clara gave him a scolding look. "That wasn't a dream. That happened right before we left. Thank you, by the way. I hope it was worth getting run out of town."
Peter yawned, unfazed. "It was, right up until now. How bad does it look, Captain Nightt?"
The captain swung by on his way to the helm. His dark eyes sized up the approaching storm from under the heavy feathered hat on his head. "It's a sizable one, lad. We'll need hands on the mainsail to keep her down when i steer, if you please."
"Aye aye," Peter responded, and headed for the sail ropes.
Clara fidgeted nervously. Jonathan caught her eye and gave her a calm grin."We'll make it through, Clara." A bolt of lightning illuminated the ship.
As the storm worsened and bore down on the galleon, Clara saw two ropes that needed securing; one at the front of the deck, at the mainsail with Peter, and one up on the poop deck with Jonathan, at the back of the ship. The winds whipped her clothes around her and the rain plastered her hair to her face. Through the blurry mess, she could tell that she would only have to time to tie one before the full force of the storm was upon them.
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