She has underestimated his walking speed. He doesn't need that time to catch up. 
"Uhhh, I guess I should probably talk about my close ones? I told me about yours before," he contemplates out loud.

"Well, I really don't have many close close ones," Galaxian starts off. 
Great start. 
"I have many friends, though," he continues. "I haven't known any of them for a really long time, because I've only been around for a couple of years, but I haven't lost any friends yet, I think. I have a few companions, like Max...he's a puppy...and Hayato, as well as six malginae, which another goddess called Cleaver gave me a long time back, but they still haven't grown up...Moka too, another deity gave him to me, and I think you've met him, right?"

"They're...they're kinda moth-like," Galaxian explains. "Well, they're supposed to be when they grow up, but I've probably had them for at least two years and they're still worms. But they're really cute worms!"

"You could today if you want! But I dunno where they are, usually I just keep them away from places where there are predatory birds, but there are a lot of places where there aren't predatory birds that still might mistake them for munchies, so...well, I could check if you want!" the deity explains. 

Galaxian's pretty confident in that if he's around, the malginae won't get eaten, but it's not like he goes around bragging about his avian negotiation abilities. "Yeah," he says with a nod, stopping. "Gimme a moment please."

Galaxian stills himself a bit. The moment, for some reason, becomes tenser, kind of like how a cat stares at you before it proceeds to shake all the water and a lot of its fur onto you. But Galaxian's not a cat (well, from what the narrator can recall, anyways,,,); he merely leans back a bit so that his back is arched in a backward fashion and his face is turned completely upwards to the sky. Well, it appears from this view that he doesn't have a double chin. Good.
Maybe Germaine can see his face a bit still due to her height over him, but anyways, it's not like he screams or something. The pupil in his right eye just slightly dilates as the scarlet color of his iris turns into a blaring gold--very similar to Hitan's gold eyes, in fact, though Germaine hasn't seen Hitan with his actual eye color yet. 
Maybe it's an illusion, but suddenly it seems like the sunlight around them grows more encompassing, passing through cracks they formerly struggled to pass through before. 

Strangely enough, the light drapes itself over her hand like a spindle of soft, glossy yarn. 
The left corner of GalaxE's mouth turns into a slight grimace, but it shouldn't be visible from Germaine's end. Instead, he focuses on intensifying the light. It stops before it becomes unappealing to look at, retaining a soft edge. 

The grimace is gone. One thing everyone should know about Galaxian is that he hates others having to be concerned about him. Then again, he likes it when some are concerned about him--uh, it's kind of complicated.
He is frowning, though, and a lot. Is something wrong? Again?

"I can find them. There's...no problem with that." His frown is getting deeper and deeper, though, and the "no" somehow seems uncertain. In any case, his face is really not cut out for frowning well.
"What on Forengard?" he mutters to himself. He puts one hand over his black eye as if to cover up the darkness and leave only the surrounding light.

"Thanks, but if any one of them is in danger, I have to be their shield," Galaxian responds, his voice suddenly having dropped a notch in terms of volume. It's like the equivalent of an older entity's tone dropping--it's not supposed to indicate that he thinks everything is alright.
Yea, this is supposed to be a fluff thread, but whatever, the narrator goes by instinct by now and there's no stopping them.

"No." There's an uncomfortable pause. "No. I wouldn't want that, no." 
Yes, to him, her question is the equivalent of "Do you want me to help?" and the answer is no. The thought is extremely appreciated, though, and he smiles slightly, though it doesn't seem as easy as usual. 

"Right. Well..." Formerly so eager to answer, it's almost like he was about to jump off a diving board of words and skidded to a halt a centimeter before the edge. 
"Well," he tries again, starting context, "I was checking for all of my companions to see if they were okay. It usually takes the same amount of time. But there's..." He struggles to find a word. "There's an interference coming. To my abilities. I dunno what it is and I have too many guesses." 

"All, except for one," Galaxian reports tersely. 

"He's a falcon. I call him Hayato," Galaxian answers. After a while, he adds, "Haya means falcon."

Galaxian lists the specific time which the narrator won't list because of possible timeline shifting in the future for logical reasons.