Bragi didn't know what to make of the sigh or the eyeroll. Not exactly. But they amused him. He grinned at her and reached over with a look that suggested 'With your permission of course' and then took the knife from the grass. He slowly began cutting a large wedge out of the middle of his half while he listened, very careful not to cut all the way through. When the girl in Orchard 5 had been teaching him to do this, Bragi had split the apple on accident constantly. Luckily, she wanted to learn to carve a flute, and had been very patient with him.
“Do you now?” Bragi asked. An eyebrow raise accompanied the grin. She was more confident about him than he was. That was the mark of a very good friend. He wished he could appreciate that more than he did. Bragi knew she could be the best friend to him in the universe and he still wouldn't quite have what he was looking for. He still wouldn't be able to find the home she was talking about. The really funny thing was how much control Bragi suspected she had over whether or not he'd find that place that was really a person. It was already more up to her than it was up to him at that point. “That sounds fair” Bragi said matching her tone. “But I have to warn you. Now that you've given me so much time to prepare for this, I'll expect more. A higher standard of gloating than average. Loud I-Told-You-So's in a public place. Wicked grins. Perhaps even a triumphant dance of some kind.” Bragi had never heard such a flattering compliment, especially coming from a tree goddess who spent more time annoyed with him than not. He smirked a little before he laughed. But not before he blushed. “You're underestimating how dull some of these are” Bragi said “I can prove it to you. The next time I visit I'll read you one of these. Then I'll read you something that is actually fascinating. You'll spot the difference immediately and rescind your blanketed appreciation.”
He removed the wedge from the middle, then cut off the part he bit by creating a triangle on one side. “We'll have to leave that topic for when we are here to talk about bickering families then” Bragi teased. He didn't mind a subject change there. Sharing pleasantries was nicer than sharing unpleasantries, until the unpleasantries became necessary. But Bragi didn't think he was at that point. He'd rather not weigh things down that wanted to be light.
Bragi cut a triangle in the other side, then met her warm smile with a wicked grin of his own. “Mostly” he said. “The rest of the time I'm in the poems and songs writing business. Mostly. I'd like to do plays someday when I get the chance.” The smile became softer. “I have a song for you already. But I'd have to tweak it. The middle is too up tempo to work well as a welcome song.” It had also turned out a bit too wistful sounding, and too invested. He'd have to make it sound much less like the serenade it had turned into after their encounter on the road. Bragi could play her a song. But not a serenade. At least not until he figured out a way to get away with it.
He started making small cuts around the front and the sides of the apple. When he was satisfied, he split the stem. The apple became a butterfly. Bragi handed it to the goddess. In the name of platonic friendship, he couldn't carve her apple flowers. But he could give her something that could go close to them. "Just keeping those masses guessing" Bragi said. He didn't wink, but winking was implied in his tone.