It's a nice grin. There's also something nice about digging in the dirt; there's no expectations and it's not terribly difficult. Mindlessly repetitive. He dug a few more holes with neat precision as Aisling drifted down from his hair to give its opinion on where he should dig them.

"They all sort of mix, really. I enjoy songs that tell tales and adventures as opposed to songs about how much this girl or guy is really good looking and I want to keep them in my life forever or how much my heart is broken because this guy or girl I thought I loved just dumped me." The trowel stabbed at the dirt absently, perhaps with a bit more force than necessary, "They're shallow and unimaginative. That being said I do sing them. I'm not stupid enough to throw away something that will pay for my dinner."

A bit more dirt is tossed over. "But I wouldn't mind singing for you. I enjoy doing that."

His expression is one of intense curiosity, the sort that would get cats killed, but he wouldn't press it if asked not to. A good story isn't worth breaking up a relationship over, new or not. And if you're patient then the story might be told to you anyway.

"I have no idea if there is any good wine here, but I will find some." He tilted his head and then brushed some hair out of his eyes, getting a smudge of dirt on his face. "Interesting is a matter of opinion. If what you say is true, then I will happily change my description of it. But until I know, I will have to withhold judgement."