She had chosen her den originally due to its closeness to the guest rooms - nobody least of all Caprica would deny her sociable tendencies - and the kitchens, a place where a lot of the D'Angelo's artistic creations were made. Small ceramics were baked in the ovens, yes - but there was also cooking, a human invention Caprica had embraced whole-heartedly and found as much satisfaction within a well-made meal as when she finished a piece of carving, jewellery or weaving. However, suddenly the location of her resting place seemed a little less desirable. Since she'd returned from her utterly impromptu trip to AniWaya - it was amazing how her life had seemed to kick up the pace in the middle of winter, usually a dark and inward-looking time - she had spent a whole lot of time up in Thackary Village, the place she'd helped to construct by digging seemingly endless post-holes. The paddocks were expansive and secure, the buildings spick and span since she tried to keep the ones they used swept and was even considering making a large enough batch of paint to smarten up the walls, although so far the undertaking had been postponed by matters more thrilling. Caprica had earned herself a steed during her time away, and she felt like a new mother, obsessing over the tall bay thoroughbred's every move. She was also eager to get in practice at riding daily, concerned not to let her new skill slip in any way. She didn't want to over-exert the animal, though, so her rides were mostly slow-paced circuits upon even ground. A great deal more time was spent on grooming and finding extra patches of winter grass to hand-graze the mare upon, worrying needlessly about her losing condition.
Now she was an equestrian, all the other Anatheman horses interested her too and she found the company she incessantly needed in their patient presence, talking away at them as if they could understand and showering affection indiscriminately wherever she could upon the creatures. Her depression from just a few weeks before had utterly lifted. Since her magical charm had been cast, she had been granted one regrettable wish, yes - but so many more good things had come her way, that seemed to tally perfectly with what she'd intended in the first place, that she was able to look past whatever wrong she thought she had done by the spell. The runes with her bloodstain still on them were hanging once more around her thick-furred neck, amongst many other adornments from pendants to beaded chokers. She knew her lupus friend Shandom would have hated to see her like this, but she could never give up her accessories and scarves, or all the other benefits the bipedal form brought.
In the end, it was only thirst that took her away from the village, where she would happily have continued to spend her evening. A dry hay-dusted throat cried out for moisture, and Caprica was in too good a mood to settle for water. Humming softly she walked with her spry and jubilant gait down the narrow tunnel to the common room and crossed this to the kitchen, where she started to browse through shelves and barrels and boxes, hunting for the perfect beverage.