Isley blinked. It was not something he had expected to be able to do after being brought low and consumed by Abyssal Feeders. The sky above was clear, and the surroundings where warm, something else what was not as he expected. The North never had warmth, and while the sky could some times be clear, the ground was always covered in a layer of snow. He then sat up, and softly grimaced in pain, the wounds weren't fully healed yet, and where ever here was, he needed to find out. His body quivered slowly, attempting to heal. He usually healed much quicker, but the Abyssal Feeders did a lot more damage than he usually took. Standing was an effort, but he managed, and it gave him a better view of the surroundings, including his more immediate location. His Claymore was laying next to him, and so he picked it up - wondering if it had always been so heavy - and placed it on his back, observing his surroundings.

It seemed like some Meadow in the South, but without any of the people in it, gathering crops and other supplies from the harvest.
"Where am I?" He finally asked himself. It was no place he had ever seen, and alone or with Pricsilla he had travelled quite a bit. However, he felt hunger gnaw at his bones, and so put confusion away, and started to head out, looking for sustenance. He always found the gut-eating necessity to be so in-elegant, but it was still an necessity to retain - and in this situation regain - full strength.