Caught in the act of cowardice, Galen stopped immediately and bowed his head, aiming to look as if he hadn't intended to simply flee, like some strange phantom. It was hard to manage a smile when his heart felt like it was tied down with the weight of a hundred stones and then thrown into the Dane River, but he had a crooked curve on his mouth as Faer addressed him, the closest he could get to a pleasant appearance. He let Valan do the talking, as he'd done the last time they ran into some allies of the older elf. Galen didn't mind falling into silence, really. There was a time when he would have found a use for charming words, but ever since coming to the Forest, he'd become far more laconic. Persuasion wasn't of much use in the Clan. A dishonest living didn't get you very far.
Startlingly enough, though, shades of this past seemed to be coming back to him in this moment. Galen held his tongue, but he knew immediately that he recognized at least a few of those faces in the crowd, as much as he was struggling to suspend his disbelief. One in particular, confirmed by her introduction. Lalin. He had to do a double take after Valan's son spoke her name, and said she was from an Alienage. Dolain's girl -- well, his main one, before all of the other women (his sister included) he somehow managed to woo. He tried hard not to let his jaw hang at the thought of her being a Warden, unlikely as it sounded -- but again, there was never any reason to lie in the clans. And Faer had no reason to lie about their status as Grey Wardens.
While Galen was certain he knew her, he didn't seem to be familiar to her at all. Not that it surprised him, or troubled him in any way. He'd made an effort not to stand out too much in the crowd. The only reason why he'd joined the gang was to blend in, rather than become a victim of it. It had also been over a year since he'd left the Alienage. With his hair longer, his gait completely different, and his body caked in a thick mixture of mud and blood, he didn't expect to be recognizable. Galen was not the same elf who had fled the city and stumbled into the Brecilian. The only part that concerned him about being unknown to her was the possibility that Lalin wouldn't have any knowledge of his sister's fate if he asked. That was utterly selfish of him -- he was in no way unhappy for the girl's fortune in becoming a national hero, and seemingly rising above hanging out with the likes of Dolain -- but the only person in Denerim he'd ever wanted to see again, or at least know about, was Caia.
Galen had been utterly absorbed in his puzzlement over the other Warden's presence that he almost tuned out Valan's explanation of his situation. Their situation, as it was. Maybe he shouldn't have been so surprised by this display of loyalty, but he found his brows drawn up as Valan referred to them as 'us'. Even having his son back in his reach, he was willing to accompany Galen on his mission. The notion, the ease with which he had simply spoken of them as a pair, was oddly...touching. Galen almost didn't know what to say, but he felt like a buffoon by standing there like a blank, dumb mute. That wasn't the impression he wanted to make on this group of warriors, as oddly cobbled together as they seemed. If they were with the Wardens and had taken down a unit of darkspawn, surely they had to be somewhat formidable. He didn't want to appear weak or incompetent, then.
The young elf cleared his throat, drew his expression back to one more serious and assured, "Yes. Several of my clan mates and I tried to make a stand, but we were easily outnumbered. There haven't been any signs of further struggle on the way, though, so I don't think the darkspawn managed to attack the rest of the group. If we keep moving, we might be able to catch up with Danya and the others." In his excitement over the fortune of having such strong allies behind him, it had yet to occur to him to ask why this band was even in the woods. That the problem could be even greater than the violence that had beset his people was still unthinkable.