The kid felt exhausted, though he hadn't done anything. The weight of the dagger in his hand, as well as the idea of it in his mind took all of his strength to carry. He was empty inside, a walking shell of what he could have been. He watched the rest of the group as they stated their names, revealing their identities to the rest of the group. What was in a name, anyway? The kid didn't really have a 'name', rather, just a bunch of memories of what he was called. A tear fell down his cheek as the memories flashed through his head.

The kid quickly decided on one name that would fit. "M...Mm..My name..My name is L...Lamb." Lamb shrunk back into his cocoon of solitude. He looked at the dagger, blood stained and vile. He had no where to go. It was here, or nowhere.