Muffin stood outside the house, waiting for Nadwe to come back out. He'd gone in with Wiktoria a few minutes ago and still hadn't come out.
He sighed and slipped through the open door, curious what was going on. He made it inside just in time to hear Nadwe mutter:
"Meme was... my d-dad?"
He decided to ask questions later. It was pretty clear Nadwe needed some time to think. Wiktoria seemed to know this as well, as she started to leave, bumping into Muffin on her way out. She let out a shocked moo, then bowed her head apologetically and trotted outside, plopping on the grass and staring wistfully back the way they'd come.
Muffin sat down next to her, a sudden realization hitting him like a truck.
"You know it wasn't him too, don't you?" He asked softly. She turned to him, stunned, and then slowly nodded.
"Look, I-I really want to break him out, but Nadwe seems so confident it's him... I couldn't do that. I... I can't betray him like that, but..."
He pulled a pickaxe from his pocket (because it fits in a normal pocket, nothing weird there) and slid it over to Wiktoria.
She looked up at him, understanding plastered across her face as she grabbed the pickaxe and tölted (that's a word, look it up) toward the jail.
She reached it within a few minutes, and immediately began to hack away at the obsidian-like bars. After what felt like hours, she'd made a hole big enough for her to—barely—fit through.
She squeezed herself in to see Socks sitting in the center of the small room, his face buried in his knees.
She sat next to him, tugging his suit gently and looking back toward the hole she'd made.
"Don't bother. I deserve to b-be here." He sniffed, wiping his eyes. His voice was hoarse, as if he'd been crying for a long time, which he probably had.
Wiktoria pouted, nudging his shoulder and mooing again.
"Stop it, ok?! It's my fault Memes dead! I killed him! I planned the wedding! I..." he paused.  "I don't deserve to get out of here." He sobbed, burying his face further into his knees.
Wiktoria mooed again, this time ramming him with her muzzle.
Socks just sobbed harder.
Wiktoria erupted in what sounded like a speech, not a single moo understood by Socks.
As she continued her motivational mooing, A sudden thought hit him. If he was the only one who knew it wasn't him (other then maybe Wiktoria) who'd had the intention of killing Meme, so if he stayed here, who would look for the real shooter?
Just as Wiktoria finished her 'speech', Socks made up his mind.
"Alright, let's go." He said, wobbling to his feet and starting toward the hole.

———————-

Ah, yes, the last chapter took a week, this chap took 24 minutes.
L o g I c
Also pog, I once again misspelled chapter and I'm still too lazy to fix it :)

505 words