She'd missed something, and now Bragi had made things worse when he'd been trying to make them better. Clenched teeth. Fire in the eyes. Eyebrows in battle stance. Bragi hadn't watched his words well enough, and now Sigyn had found her inner dragon. Only no villages needed wasted, and they were well stocked with enough cavalry to hurt her if she tried. All because she'd tried to save his marriage by warning him about his wife's treacherous affair. That wouldn't do. Some dragons turned out to be very nice people on other days. He'd met one in a tree once and they were getting along splendidly.
“Have you ever kissed a slug?” Bragi asked. He didn't wait for her to answer. From what his stepmother said between the lines when she thought no one was listening, Sigyn was probably too sensible to do something like that. Unless Frigg knew about Loki. Then she might argue that Sigyn had. But that was only because she and Loki didn't get along very well. But Bragi didn't think she did. Bragi only knew because Idun did.
“I have” Bragi said, “I was about seven. There was a girl in our village. She had permanently raised eyebrows and this habit of biting down on her knuckle whenever she was thinking. We were all madly in love with her and willing to go to extreme lengths to prove it.” He paused. “Don't ever tell Idun this story. She gets terribly jealous. Smoke everywhere. Spontaneous combustion of flammable objects. The neighbor's milk sours. It's bad. She'll go beat up little girls. And slugs.”
With that disclaimer in place, Bragi continued. “It's like a slimed up swamp rock with a hint of tree sap that quivers. You can't spit enough afterwards. The slight stickiness stays on your lips for hours and even when you get it off there's the psychological scarring to deal with and the nausea which lasts days. I can't think of a single worse kissing experience. Except for Loki and Idun's.”