I've been having writer's block, so I went to Random Word Generator for some inspiration

Also, does it say in Behemoth if Bovril's a boy or girl?

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of this; it all belongs to Scott Westerfeld, etc., etc., etc.

Perfection

The mixture looked too lumpy. Something was wrong. Deryn peeked into Alek's bowl to see how he was doing, and sighed. Of course, the prince could beat her in fencing and speak five more languages than her, but cook better than her? That was just pathetic. She was a barking girl, after all. Deryn stirred her concoction furiously, then maniacally, until Alek started staring.

"Er...what are you doing?" he asked, a confused expression on his face.

"What does it look like?" Deryn replied through gritted teeth. "I'm trying to make the perfect pancakes."

Alek studied her lumpy mess for a moment, and then disappeared into a cloud of flour and various other ingredients, soon revealing a perfect mixture. Deryn sighed. Of course, she thought as Alek began to pour the batter into a softly hissing pan, the prince has achieved perfection again.

Blame

"What are you doing?" asked Alek, sitting beside Deryn on the top of the Leviathan, with Bovril on his shoulder. It was a fine day, with fluffy clouds floating in the periwinkle sky.

"Drawing," she replied, holding up her sketchbook. Bovril jumped onto the outstretched book and sighed contentedly. Deryn got up and stretched. "Would you like to fence?" she asked.

"I never thought the day would come when you'd ask me that," said Alek, grinning, "seeing as how I'll win." He pulled himself up, but in doing so, the tip of his boot nudged the sketchbook, along with Bovril, to the edge of the whale, where gravity began to pull it down.

"My sketchbook!"

"Bovril!"

Deryn managed to grab her pad, but Bovril tumbled down the side, screeching all the way. Finally, it managed to grab a ratline halfway down the flank of the Leviathan, clinging on for dear life.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Deryn looked at Alek. "Go get it!"

Alek looked nervously down the side of the airbeast. "Er..."

"Too scared, are you?" Deryn shook her head in mock disapproval. "Tsk, tsk. I'd have expected more from a barking prince."

"It's your fault Bovril fell. You should have grabbed it instead of your sketchbook!"

"My fault? You pushed it over the side!"

"And you suggested we fence!"

The two began to bicker furiously, not noticing a small figure crawl out a window and climb the ropes towards the still screeching loris. The person took hold of Bovril and began to climb up the whale.

"Bovril was designed by Dr. Barlow! It's her life's work! And you say your sketchbook was more important! You go get it!"

"Excuse me." Dr. Nora Darwin Barlow's head poked up from the side of the airbeast. She pulled herself up to face Alek and Deryn. "But while the two of you were having your...discussion, this loris was in a perilous situation." She held up Bovril, who cackled maniacally. It jumped out of her hand and slithered back up Alek's arm to his shoulder.

"I-you-you rescued Bovril?" asked Alek. "But...you're a woman!" Alek sputtered, not noticing Deryn's murderous glare.

"There are many things that women can do that would surprise you. Ask your friend Dylan, for instance." And with that, she smiled and walked away.

Any more ideas? Please review, and thank you for reading!