The height difference between them isn't as pronounced as it is with others, so his gaze isn't slanted too far down as the man steps closer. There's a moment of confusion that bubbles to the surface, a strange feeling of wondering why they aren't already sharing the same breath. But it's as unfamiliar to him as so much else he doesn't remember, even without a film of amnesia over it.

Even the memories he has back now aren't sharp. Not the way they would be if they had never been disturbed or carved from his brain. The hand he offers is steady, less murderous than it has been for a long time. He holds it out, palm up, waiting to see if the other man feels comfortable or not setting his own into it.

"Memories are returned to me sometimes without prompting. Sometimes with a trigger of the senses. I... could not recall my name, before, could I?"