It takes Galliard awhile to figure out that the little kid wandering around is Levi. He is... decidedly less intimidating when he's this size, although for all Galliard knows, he's probably got a weapon hidden on him and is ready to shank anyone who gets too close.

He watches young Levi go after the fireflies for awhile, then approaches him.

"Hey." He smiles, his hands out where Levi can see them, nonthreatening. "Want some help with that? My brother taught me how to catch them when I was about your age."

A lie: there were no fireflies in the Liberio ghetto, and definitely none on the battlefield. But it's something Marcel would have taught him, had it been available. Of that, Galliard is sure.