"No!" She shouted again as she felt his arms tighten around her waist, strong as cords of iron. Tilda was tempted to employ what her father had taught her of self-defense and elbow him in the side to get him to let go of her. A quick anguished glance back behind them pushed that impulse from her mind as she saw the danger she'd just put them all in. Their chaperone may have been lost to the waves, but they were about to get hurled further out to sea in an even more agonizing death unless they got to one of the cottages. The ballroom and the resort itself looked like it was about to be torn to shreds. Tilda felt a weight in her chest as she realized her parents were still there and she stopped struggling against him, now determined to get back ashore.

The weight her skirts had absorbed was absolute dead weight and she drew heavy breaths, half of them sobs, as they collapsed onto the sand. Every instinct told her they needed to get to safety. But all Tilda wanted to do was follow in the first steps of their chaperone and get back to the ballroom. Back to her loved ones to make sure they were okay. But what they'd just witnessed told her she couldn't - that they needed to get to shelter now. Her parents would likely be worried sick about her. They knew she'd have gone to the beach and likely thought she was now lost. The best thing she could do was survive until after this was over.

Mr. Scamander's words reached her again and she nodded, stumbling into place alongside him as she picked up her skirts and ran to one of the cottages up on the hill. If she hadn't realized she made a mistake by going into the sea, she certainly did so now. Her skirts were ten times heavier than they were and a stitch in her side quickly made itself known as she clambered up the rocks.

But they kept going, and soon enough were within earshot (so to speak) of the cottage, which had surprisingly stayed resolute throughout the current storm. But Tilda realized that most of the storm had concentrated over the resort, and had gotten milder as they drew further away from the epicenter. Perhaps they would make it through this storm after all. But now it was down to her parents' survival in all of this.

A tear caught her attention, drawing her out of her thoughts, and Tilda was immediately yanked backward. A nearby (rather thorny) had caught onto the hem of her dress and bitten into it, refusing to let go. She let out a cry of surprise, reaching down and struggling to release herself from the bush. One quick look up, and Tilda saw the storm cloud over the resort get larger, looming closer to them the longer it stayed hovering over the resort. She looked desperately to Mr. Scamander.

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