Ankyra Sound a blackout oath i swore and meant but couldn't conjure up again

He was wave-battered enough that he could not carry long.  Trembling legs could only support him for so far; the bulk of him in this situation a detriment more than anything else.  Though the ocean had water-logged his fur, had pruned his skin, his mouth was dry.  His tongue came from between his jaws to lick the dehydrated flesh of his lips.  

Groggy, he pulled his head up to look around for water — water that wasn't salt, water that wasn't a body larger than him.  It was then he saw her.

She was close enough he could make out her features; they took a moment to register before he froze.  He looked around at the open-maw shape of the shoreline, then back at her.  

Had he ever even gotten her name?

I know you.