"I think we need to find some fresh corpses next," Merrick replies, taking the maggoty liver as if it's nothing. Then he catches sight of the Templar's face and squints.

"Wait, are you squeamish?" He isn't terribly fond of Templars--not on an individual level, but as an institution--so this strikes him as more than a little amusing. "Aren't you supposed to be used to stuff like this?"