Donner lugs a telescope into the living room, plus a roll of wrapping paper topped with a bow. He laments that his rough day didn't leave time for him to properly package Sophia's present, and hands her the telescope. It's lovely, and she's delighted. Excitedly, Donner takes it outside to set it up on the balcony. "This should impress those professors from Florence, when you show up with your own gear," he beams. Sophia looks away, her expression simply screaming that she's going to burst his bubble mercilessly. He catches her. Sophia blathers that she promised Syrus Wertzl that she'd return to her regular job as a summer camp arts-and-crafts counselor. This is so lame of Sophia. She's smarter than this, but all of a sudden, Luke wets his fangs and hints that he wants her, and Sophia's giving up a real life in favor of a tiny town with creepy people and a forest. Grow up, Sophia. You officially suck. Donner tries to fight her, but Sophia insists she doesn't want to spend her final summer away from all her friends -- all none of them, unless Mr. Wertzl counts -- and finally staunchly insists, "I'm not going." She flounces outside, leaving Donner to stew over his criminally insane child.
Sitting in the bar, Miranda absently pecks away at the piano. Lou finishes a drink, then strolls out, shooting one last worried glance her way. As she plays, Miranda wrinkles up her face and tries to look like she's weeping. She manages to make her mascara run, but other than that, she just seems to be suppressing a sneeze. Miranda suddenly looks really old, too. Maybe her tear ducts are shriveled.
Willard nervously stares at the woods. White-knuckling his cane for a second, Willard then lets it drop to the ground, strolling purposefully toward the forest. His coat drapes across a stump in a pretty flutter of cloth. WolfWillard runs through the forest, speeding, gliding. He leaps over a murky knoll and darts off-screen, at which time we hear the snap of an iron trap's jaws. Willard screams. We see his naked human arm caught in the snare. When he hears footsteps, his head jerks up nervously. A black glove and a long pistol sneaks into the shot; Willard snorts, then smiles. "Thank God," he says.
A gunshot reverberates through the forest.
Next time: something else will be shoved into this time slot. Thanks for reading the recaps, and trying to give Wolf Lake something resembling an audience.