Amber was barely able to speak as she was led out of her cell. It wasn't so much that she'd ended up there, but that she'd been let go. Of course, rationalizations flew through her mind, and, inevitably, she was left sitting, breakfast sitting in front of her. She looked across at Ruxandra, and smiled nervously.<br/><br/>"Anything, I guess," she said, "but, not horror, I don't think I like the idea of getting torn up by some psycho killer. Fake blood and guts were never my thing..."<br/><br/>She giggled, again, nervously, and looked around the room, biting her lip. Ruxandra seemed, to her, to be, well, beautiful, and her immediate thought was that she took a hard line on drinking, or maybe, the cells were just a set for a movie, and the door had locked accidentally. In the end she couldn't only think that the beautiful creature across from her was probably not the same person who put her in the cell. Her next thoughts were a bit more, amourous, as Amber, well, couldn't help that she'd always felt like she had the sex-drive that she only ever heard of referred to as that of a man.