Reading the riddle, William's heart jumped slightly at the 'murderer' bit - but he wasn't a murderer, no, not in the real sense of the word. Besides, 'soldier' couldn't have been referring to anybody except him. None of the other people in the room had the look of the military, and he'd been there long enough to know what it was. (At least, he thought he did.) Maybe Chris, but ...
He glanced over the group again. Runaway, rogue ... murderer was the dark-haired one on the floor, then. He read over the plaque again, putting his hands in his pockets and mulling over what had to be done. Two to repeat the rhyme, one to find a name, and then he had to ... great.
He'd been in the wrong before. A hundred times. He wasn't looking forward to talking about any of those.
"I was in the Army," Will said by way of staking his claim to a role. This place just got weirder and weirder, didn't it.