Silver Moraine you were one of those classic ones

What happened was swift, and almost relieving...She hand't recognized him too soon. But the dread returned as he cursed himself, seconds passing as she stared at him. He was here for her to remember him, not for her to think he was just some damn admirer.

"Fuck," he swore into the wind, icy air snatching the foul language from his lips. It almost pained him to watch her wonder who he was, some kind of rusty set of fangs jutting into his lungs over and over, harder and harder as he just stood there like some knd of coward. So to get his life back, he had to make those abominable steps forward.
So he did.

Inky paws brought him closer, body serious but neutral as he had always been. Watching and weirdly anticipating something to go wrong, something to ruin this moment even worse than what he was going to just form simply showing his face to her again. It hurt, moving that void sheathed body forward, closer to that brilliant woman and taking himself out of the refuge. But he did it. For her?
Or for himself?

The closer he got, the slower his steps became....
Until he was in her space, proximity close enough to challenge her to breathe his breath as well. Would she recognize him now?

If anything, as he stared down at her, those wintery eyes could have been seen to either beg for death by her jaws, or forgiveness from his sins. But the interpretation was hers alone to make, and her judgement hers alone to deliver.