She's in Scotland, somewhere, today. Just hiking around the highlands at semi-random, feeling vaguely like a pre-industrial skald. Or- They weren't called skalds here, they were something else. Bards? It doesn't really matter.

She finds a hill with a nice view. There are sheep in the valley below, and a little cottage. A sheepdog is watching her. It's a perfect little moment. She starts recording and smiles and plays her flute, a wandering and jaunty tune with a slight mournful lilt to it-

-And-

-Now she's somewhere else entirely.