'Sure', he says, Raylan thought to himself but they were already pressing up onto the rocks and the older Marshal was forced to let go of Tim to grip slick fingers onto the rough surface. It seemed fine for about a minute, Raylan blinking the water out from his eyes as he tried to find similar handholds that had let Tim go before him without issue.

But the harder the wind blew, the harder it was to stay clinging desperately to the rock face and the first slip of Tim's boot had Raylan shouting at him, slapping at his arm with a one handed desperation that went right back to clinging to the rocks. This was too much. The storm following them was going to tear them off and cast them into the sea like Bucky had done.

"We gotta go back! It's too windy, we're gonna get killed." The only reason Raylan hadn't fallen off yet was the way his toes were gripping at the rock too, providing him more grip than his boots could have ever afforded him.