Bragi’s smirk as it danced across the edges of his lips was coy though undoubtedly roguish in it’s design. It was a twitch of lip muscles that rivaled Ragnar and the devil’s own. Eyes of Caribbean ice danced with the mischief his smirk aimed to hide, soaking up her words of mysterious and intriguing being applied to him as flattery. Or if the words were not in regards to him specifically they were in the regards to something he had spoken, nevertheless. Bragi had never been overly arrogant, but he wasn’t under modest, either. Perhaps it was nothing more than teenage shallowness that reveled in the attentions of the opposite sex, especially an older woman, who, had been around and had likely seen all walks of men and boys alike. It was unclear, yet, given his youth, if Bragi would be a Casanova as the men of his family (for it was presumed he was in some way related to Ragnar’s family) though, currently, it stood to be a logical assertion to make.
There was a moment of prolonged silence in which Bragi contemplated Finley’s offer of a guessing game of sorts and after he took a soft breath, the crisp air tainted with her scent filling his black, leathery nostrils only to be expelled in the next three heartbeats, he had decided that there was no harm in indulging her. He wasn’t ashamed, simply annoyed. Bragi didn’t see the fairness in someone who didn’t know him, or his mother shooting their mouth off about who his father might be. He knew who his father was: Heimdall. Why did it have to be any more complicated than that? “Very well. One reason is that Odinn’s Cove was no longer safe for me. The current Jarl is a cruel and vicious man and treats his wife and my mother, his consort like utter shit and that he potentially feels threatened by me despite that I might be his son, but I might also be the son of his bastard brother who is a fierce and well respected warrior within the pack. The other reason is that I have came to these Teekon Wilds in search of my might be father, and said cruel Jarl’s older, full blooded brother who liked to play it fast and loose with his women, my mother included as one of his dalliances.” Bragi named them off to her keep his voice stoic through both, determined to make the game as hard as he could. Having added a little extra flair of his own, as a natural born Saga-teller to the first option, they were not that different and if he didn’t know that the first was the reason why he was here, despite that his mother had not came right out and claimed that Váli was threatened by him and that she planned challenge him to single combat he was seeing clearer and able to piece the puzzle pieces together with relative ease; even though this whole ‘mystery father’ business made Bragi extremely uncomfortable.