Clyde the Bodyguard brings Ruby to her parents' house, at which point Willard dispatches Clyde permanently. Apparently, Clyde hasn't been allowed to return to his family throughout his whole gig guarding Ruby, which is completely stupid, but whatever. Picking out the stupid in this show is a bit like trying to find a needle inside a giant bucket of even bigger needles. Ruby sullenly enters the house, strolling into the living room without so much as a query about her father's health. "Changing of the guard?" she sneers. Willard begs her to humor him and purge her tone of contempt, but she isn't letting him off that easy. If he frees her, she says, "[she'll] speak to [him] on bended knee and in rhyming couplets." Except that would make them seem like lovers, and that's gross even in wolf country. Willard casually tells her she's free. Savvy Ruby knows strings are attached somewhere; Willard plays it cool, but does admit that she must exercise good judgment, because he can't protect her if she bolts back to Lou's bed. Ruby glares. "Once he sees you, he won't settle for anything less than the truth," Willard points out. "And around here, that doesn't exactly increase your life expectancy." Ruby seethes that he's essentially trading her literal prison for a figurative one, but Willard prefers to think of it as protecting her best interests. Naturally, Ruby balks at this, because she's aware that he and Tyler reached some kind of arrangement regarding a betrothal. "I won't do it," she pouts, storming toward the staircase. "You never would do anything you didn't want to," Willard says sadly, choking up. "Even as a little girl." Well, that's just a shame. Usually a steady diet of coercion does eat away at the mind, but poor, misguided Ruby doesn't break so easily. In the background, we hear the voices of kids playing and giggling and calling out to each other, which is obviously a memory of Ruby's, because she throws back her head and dons a pained expression. The emotion in her father's voice causes her to meet his gaze, at which point he pleads with her to consider the consequences before acting. Ruby simply stares, unwilling to look down and notice the atrocious coat she's wearing with a fur collar made from...oh, probably one of her ancestors.
Sophia serves up some elk jerky, eggs, and sausages -- no joke -- to a diner patron, then asks Sherman what he might want. It irks her that he sits at the counter for prolonged periods without actually doing anything useful, like tip her. She thinks Sherman is waiting for something to happen; he claims, in his inimitably sarcastic way, that his presence in a chair is preventing another hungry person from ingesting demon cholesterol. Sherman compliments Sophia on her acceptance to the Florence program. "Birthplace of Galileo," he notes. "Malodorous little man. Chronically constipated." Graham Greene has to have some really bad gambling debts, or something. This is just embarrassing for him. Sophia can't believe her news has swept the town already, but she's not terribly surprised to learn that it's because her father has sung it from the rooftops. As she smiles and swings around the counter, carrying two plates, something strange happens to her. Flushing a bit, feeling woozy, Sophia begins to crumple, dropping the plates and swaying. We see flashes of the forest, lightning, running wolves, trees, lupine eyes. She takes off her glasses and sees in snippets of WolfCam. She sees herself in a white shirt and red pants, which removes a lot of the drama from tomorrow morning's closet tantrum. In that outfit, she stands in the forest, staring at the sky. The whole thing is done with swishing noises and fast-motion, then slow-motion camerawork. In hyperspeed, Sophia dons her glasses and lets Sherman pick her up from the diner floor. I don't even care what sassy thing he says to her.