Nanna really didn't want to think about the man's liver. Or that he was somebody he'd probably met at least once when he'd been in the stables. Or that the man had friends and a family, maybe even a troublesome brother of his own. All of that was very worrying, even more so than all the blood that was going to upset their mother a lot. And Father would probably yell.
Nanna really didn't like it when Father yelled. It was even worse than the sad and disappointed look that Mother got. Because when Father yelled, it went right through to the bones, and it made Nanna shake a little bit. Father was so powerful, there was so much force inside him, when it came out as just his voice it was a little frightening.
So he was going to tell Nergal to stop poking in the poor, dead mortal's body and get things cleaned up before he got them into trouble. But then his little brother looked at him, and it was such a sad look that Nanna stopped before he even said anything. And then Nergal asked that question. It was a hard question because the truth was, sometimes, no, he didn't want to play with Nergal. Nergal played... like this. It was dirty and hard and something about it didn't sit right with Nanna. He loved his brother, always, but he didn't always want to be around him.
He couldn't say that though. He couldn't. Not with Nergal looking at him like that. So Nanna swallowed a sigh and said, “How do you know it's a liver? Maybe it's a spleen.”
Then he moved toward the table, even though he didn't want to, even though the blood was sticky against he bottom of his feet and he just wanted to wash it off. He did it so his brother would know he was loved. And because if their mother came in, Nergal wouldn't face the punishment alone. They were in it together now.