Tyr had no illusions of what side Fenrir was meant to take - in his opinion, by talking to Loki, he had begun taking the natural steps to what they expected for Ragnarok. Yet part of him felt the urge to rebel against this, to yank Fenrir by the neck and keep him from that.
He did not believe the son of Loki was bad, if anything his misfortune had been ... being born to Loki. Yes, he thought this often, but whenever Fenrir came up there was a certain ... problem. A conflict that Tyr could find no reasonable solution to. There was too much bad blood between them to just cast it aside.
Unlike himself, Tyr was a running a little late- he blamed work and traffic for this delay. (Truthfully part of it was his own reluctance to see the wolf that had cost him his hand.) Some things could not be forgotten.
When he arrived at the park, he felt alert- unnaturally so, as if he were ready to battle, but he had not come here to fight. Tyr glanced about but he couldn't spot Fenrir, maybe he was expecting a wolf- wagging his tail like he used to when he was young and jumping up in greeting.