Macy stepped back as the lock was kicked from the door, giving no reaction whatsoever. Not only had she gotten used to Scar's rough personality, but it never really bothered her to begin with. Any help was appreciated; she preferred not to act if she did not have to. Her eyes drifted to Kris and Diana, watching them speak before being suddenly pulled from the cell.

She went along willingly, of course, noting that most of her comrades had come to congregate in this room. They were all searching for a way out, yet not exactly working together. This was pretty common behavior between them. She, herself, had worked with them for many years yet had barely spoken to most of them. She liked to keep to herself.

Slowly, she meandered over to the desk, following Kris' lead to look at what all might be there. They needed three things that she knee for sure- a weapon for herself, the keys to any door, and a sandwich for the fox. Her gaze drifted over to the door beside the vault, where she approached and placed her hand against the cold steel. [Color=gray]"The warden took our weapons this way..."[/color] She murmured, just loud enough for those next to her to hear.

There was no kicking that door down, but there was no unlocking it from here. [Color=gray]"The keys were on a ring attached to his belt."[/color] She knew it was s waste of time to search the desk for keys; the warden likely still had them. Or a guard. So she moved on to find other useful items. Her eyes landed on a small dagger upon the desk. It was nothing special, but if used properly it was better than only using her hands. That is, if it was sharp.

Carefully, she moved to pick up the small weapon, tracing her finger along its edge. A small drop of blood formed on her finger from the fresh cut, and she smiled... just a bit. [Color=gray][i]It's sharp...[/i][/color] Silently, she placed the dagger in her belt, claiming the weapon as her own. Macy stuck her bleeding finger into her mouth, sucking on the small cut until the bleeding stopped. She remained completely unbothered by it as she continued her search.

It was then her eyes fell upon the sandwich. Moldy. Revolting.Yet, it couldn't have been here more than a couple of days. It would not taste delicious, but Macy saw her companion's urgency for food and believed it to be a life-or-death matter. Taste did not matter. Carefully, she grabbed the sandwich with her free hand and approached Scar. It was dripping with juices from the mystery meat, but it would sustain him long enough to escape. He could pick off the moldy bits.

With her cut finger still in her mouth, she silently held out the sandwich with her other hand, offering it to Scar without words. Once he ate, they could proceed.