Messes [Sumer, 4183 BCE] (tag: Nergal)
Nanna had been outside for less than an hour, but in that space of time, he'd come to a conclusion that his earlier opinion was absolutely correct: he did not like the daytime. Oh he still loved the desert, with all it's mystery and wonder, surprisingly busy and full of life. But he preferred it when it was shaded and muted, under the light of his moon. It was so much prettier that way.
And really, he thought that the animals he saw under the moonlight were far more interesting too. During the day, everything skittered away so fast. Like they were running away from the heat too. At night, he could take a more leisurely pace when he wanted to examine something. Lizards, snakes, even some things that had fur like foxes and mice and rabbits. There were plants too, but they were far less interesting than the animals, because they didn't move and react as quickly. He'd get to the plants later.
Actually, he'd get to the animals later too, because he was done looking at them in the daylight. It was too hard on his eyes, too hot on his skin. He was going back to his mother's temple in the Heights Above. This was enough playing on the mortal plane for today. The air was cool and sweet in the heavens, and his mother's home always smelled like cinnamon. He loved that smell.
But when he walked into the temple he called home, something else assailed his nose. There were spices in the air, but not the way they should be if his mother was cooking. And not the sweet spices of desserts that he was hoping for. Nanna frowned in confusion. What was going on? Logically, the issue seemed to be coming from the kitchen, so that's where his feet carried him.
But when he got there, he stopped dead in the doorway, his jaw dropping in shock. With horror in his voice, he demanded of his younger brother, “Nergal! What did you do?”