Joscelin shrugs again. He hates being ordered around so he's not in any particular rush to meet his assigned god. Except, he realizes suddenly, he is. He looks at the symbol on Blue Hair's neck. He wants one of those. He wants to have a purpose. He doesn't like the idea of not being anyone or anything--besides the spirit of a dead boy--one bit.

Something about Blue Hair has lowered his defenses a little. Maybe it's because he hasn't talked down to him yet. All the grown ups so far have talked down to him; he hates that just as much as he hates orders.

"Do you have a name besides a prison ID? I'm called Joscelin, but I think I'd rather you called me Joss."