Nanna blinked. It was a lot to take in, and he wasn't sure what to do with all of it. The first thought that came into his mind was that his mother was going to be very upset that those spices had been spilled. They were probably totally ruined, actually, because the bottle that held them was currently swimming in the middle of a puddle of blood. Spices were expensive, and that just seemed wasteful. Nanna knew it wasn't the most important issue at the moment, but he kept thinking about how loud his mother was probably going to yell.
Because on top of the waste of the spices, there was blood, well, sort of everywhere. But the thing that was probably going to get Nergal into most trouble about the blood was that it was currently soaking into the wood of the table. There wasn't going to be any way to get that out. They could clean up the stone flooring, but the grout holding the slabs together was going to be a mess too. This was bad.
Not to mention there was a dead body in the kitchen. There was a dead body in the kitchen. A dead person. Right there. Where had he come from? How had he gotten there? How had he gotten dead? And why did Nergal have him? Nanna had a really bad feeling in the pit of his stomach that he already knew what had happened.
But he didn't yell. That almost always made Nergal yell back. He was like that. If you pushed, he pushed back harder. So Nanna was very calm when he asked, “Who is that?”
He really hoped it wasn't somebody they knew. He couldn't tell because there wasn't really a face left.