Then together they can hopefully get everyone into a big huddle and have a slightly less awful time breathing while they wait for the storm to die down. (If it's gonna die down. It might not.)

While she's herding everybody, she keeps an eye out for obvious injuries. If the storm passes in a reasonable timeframe she can check everybody over then, but in the meantime if she sees someone having a really bad time she can think about what to do for them. And if she sees anyone wearing a jacket, she can try to convince them to take it off and use it to shield faces with. The less sand in people's faces here, the better.

No one's badly injured, at least not immediately obviously.  One person is sitting curled up on the ground, fists clenched in their hair; one person is taking off their jacket and trying futilely and kind of desperately to towel the slime out of their clothes with it, even as the sandstorm buffets them.

Can we get the huddle to shelter the curled-up person while also kinda sorta giving them a bit of space? Let's find out.

A man in a brown leather jacket, apparently under the impression that he's helping, seizes curled-up person by the scruff of the neck and attempts to incorporate them into the huddle.

That is not an appropriate way to grab people! How about she takes over herding the curled-up person into the huddle so the guy in the jacket doesn't have to.

Jacketguy tosses his head in an eye-rolling sort of way at the notion that curled-up person is going to stay curled up on the ground and not contribute to the co-shielding effort but makes no further protest or resistance.

As long as he stops trying to drag people around by the scruff of their neck he can roll his eyes as much as he wants.

Distressed About Slime Person is still Distressed About Slime, and looks to be dithering between joining the huddle for sandstorm protection, and staying away from it so as not to touch other slimy people, or touch people while being slimy themself.

Can she try motioning them over to at least shelter next to the huddle, if not directly in it? The shelter won't be nearly as good but it'll be something.

It takes a bit of doing, but after a moment they seem to decide they can bear to go along with someone else's decision if they don't have to make it themself.  They won't quite touch anyone in the huddle but they'll keep close to it with their face away from the wind.

Then assuming nobody else has any glaring problems... man, can she get people to shield each other's faces with their jackets? Maybe not, the sand is blowing pretty hard and her hands are starting to sting. Maybe it is time to just huddle up and wait it out.

As long as the sand allows, though, she'll squint her eyes open occasionally to check on people, even if she has to do it behind her hand. Everybody on this rock is her problem now and if somebody needs something she'd better notice so she can figure it out.

Curled Up Person is curled up.  Distressed By Slime Person is anxious and tense and shifty but adequately contributing to the huddle.  Jacket Guy is not making trouble.  Crying Boy Who Held Her Hand As They Tumbled Out Of The Sandworm is huddling close to her and maybe wants to hold her hand again.

Her hand is very holdable. Behold.

After a little while, Hand Holding Boy will try to yell over the storm to ask her how much longer she thinks it's going to be.  Not many people can yell hesitantly but he manages it.

"Hard to say," she yells back, trying to be as encouraging as possible while shouting from behind her hand to minimize sand ingestion. "Could be a while!"

Hand Holding Boy nods, and huddles, and hand-holds.

It is, indeed, going to be a while.

Her squinting-through-her-fingers checks get rarer and rarer; she's concerned that if she does them too often, eventually her eyes will catch so much sand she won't be able to see either way. But as best she can, she pays attention to how everyone is doing.

The vibes are miserable, but no new emergencies present themselves - not, at least, before the sandstorm starts to die down.

It did take a while, but it didn't take forever.

The dark rock slab is covered in drifts of sand - not so thickly that they can't tell it apart from the dunes, but thickly enough to have buried some ankles.

The sky is too-pale blue.  The dunes stretch on forever.

In addition to some ankles, the sand deposited by the storm has half-buried the remains of the guiding and medical tents, also spat up by the worm as it deposited its victims.

When it becomes clear that they're getting a meaningful reprieve and not just a vague lull, she gets moving.

"I see tents! Who wants tents? C'mon, help me get them set up."

She can start with just Hand Holding Boy if nobody else jumps at the chance to help, but one of the things you pick up after spending a while as senior gofer at many successive dungeon sites is the ability to take a vague pile of tasks and an aimless crowd of potential assistants and get them matched up to each other in a semi-organized fashion.

Of particular note: how much of the supplies made it through? She's crossing her fingers hoping for her big first aid kit, and if she's really lucky, the box of extra wet wipes that she's pretty sure was next to it. They could all use a little less slime in their lives right now, especially that one guy.

Hand Holding Boy sticks close to her.  Brown Leather Jacket Guy can be directed to help dig out the tents.  The first aid kit will turn out to be there, tumbled over but securely shut.  The box of wet wipes was jostled open but at least some of them are salvageable.  A woman who she enlisted to help sort through supplies also turns up a box of mini water bottles.

Curled Up Person progresses to lying on their back in the sand staring at the too-pale blue sky.  Distressed By Slime Person is stripping down to their underwear.

She clears a space in the middle of the rock slab and gets two tents arranged face to face; it'll be an awkward squeeze to get in, but it'll help protect against sand blowing in through the front. Helpful people get directed to pile up the sand against the sides as much as possible, to weigh them down so they don't blow away, and to protect them against being eroded by blowing sand. To help weigh them down and to make sure there isn't a huge scramble for shelter when the storm starts back up, she asks people to crowd into the tents as much as possible unless they've got work to do outside, and she stashes useful supplies inside the tents as well. Any useless debris like broken boxes, sand-clogged wet wipes, or the third tent they find that's torn mostly to scrap can get tangled up in the sand piles on the outside, to give them a little more structure and hopefully stop them blowing away too easily.

Anyone who wants water can get a mini water bottle of their very own. Extra wet wipes go to Distressed By Slime, but everyone can have a couple of wet wipes for general sand and slime reduction purposes, there's enough to go around. She keeps an eye out for anyone who might be in need of the first aid kit; if she has the time before the storm resumes, she'll try to give everyone an individual check-up to catch non-obvious issues.

Most folks are willing to pile into the tents, at least at first.  Mini water bottles go like hot cakes.  Distressed By Slime wants to stay out behind one of the tents with minimal clothes on, at least for now.  Curled Up Person is still lying on their back, outside; someone's crouched next to them, trying to wheedle them into coming inside the tents.

Okay, how best to approach this...

She'll do the check-ups, she decides. A lot of these people have already gotten a check-up from her, but then they took a trip on the Worm Express, which in her opinion makes them due for another one.