The beauty and the glory of the mountain pack was partly in the manner it allowed one to pass back and forth underground, mused Caprica as she left the tunnel entrance, glad of the clouds that covered the sun. She had always wondered what lay over the peaks, knowing that this was the direction the old family lands lay in, but not remembering distinct information about them. Which was perhaps useful, because she might have teared up at the sight of the empty hills with the sporadic pools, such a different landscape since the flames torched it all. As it was, she sauntered through, interested mostly in the freedom and feeling of space all around. Still, she was unsurprised to find her feet drifting away from the dead lands, towards the tempting greenery to the west; she had to keep reminding herself not to go too far down, for what she really needed now was a vantage point to get the lie of the land and orientate herself in her new home's surroundings.
She started to follow a stream, which smelt strange but seemed to get clearer as she followed it up a silty foothill. The top seemed an age coming, but eventually came. Caprica slumped down on a patch of bare earth, wishing she'd had a friend to take on her walk. The silence was oppressive. She was thirsty, too. She dipped a hand into the brook and sipped a little water, wrinkling her nose at the taste. There was definitely something strange about the water here, and she had hoped for a view, but there was a haze in the air that refused to let vision past a mile or two. Caprica puffed out her cheeks in disgust, and stood to make her dissatisfied way home.