Stas inhaled. The air was crisper, fresher. That was not the air he breathed when he went to sleep in his tent.
He forced his eyes open and winced at the stinging from the sudden exposure to bright sunlight, sitting himself up. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that he was in a forest rather than the mountain side he had been hiking. Instinctively he checked his knife sheath for his blade, but it wasn't there. He quietly cursed in his mother tongue and checked all of his pockets for whatever he had. In his left pocket was something very familiar, he knew what it was the instant he felt it. He slowly pulled it out, just to make sure. A red ribbon. He did not have that when he was on the mountain hiking trip. Nevertheless he tied it around his neck and tucked it into his shirt, fluffing up his white shemagh to cover it up. He checked himself once more, he was wearing his combat boots, tried and true for just about anything. They were a little beat up though. He wore rather heavy duty cargo pants, tucked into his boots so that they wouldn't snag. His pants were olive green, and he had his kneepads still on. For his upper body, he wore a grey shirt, with a leather jacket with fur on the inside. And of course, his white shemagh that was tied around his neck. 

He was missing a whole range of gear, his knife, his compass, backpack, rations, water, to name a few. He sighed and placed his hands on his face, he felt his palms on his face. He was missing his gloves too. This made him sigh even harder. After a couple of seconds he looked up, his eyes fully adjusted this time, and around. This was definitely not the same place where he made camp. He looked to the ground, on his left and saw something peculiar. A spear? He glanced around once more, there was nobody around. Looking at the spear again, he picked it up, not wanting to leave a useful tool behind. He remembered things then, as soon as he touched it. Distant memories, like blurs, he couldn't quite make it out. He also felt cooler. It was a little strange, so he set it down. He warmed up once more. He eyed the spear, then decided to bring it, grumbling in Russian. The spear definitely make the wielder a bit colder. Stas looked up to the trees and eyed strange monkey like creatures, none of which he had ever seen before. They eyed him back. As he woke up he became more and more aware of his surroundings. He heard a quiet banging, like someone was striking a rock. He looked for the source of the noise and found an equally as strange bird like creature, cracking a rock open. Once the bird had cracked the rock open, it revealed worm like insects, which the bird feasted on. Stas was rather unfazed by this, but he did make a mental note of at least some rocks having worms inside them. 

The forest was new and strange. He searched his memory, and recalled a voice. Something about meeting up and a village. An objective. He was brought here for a reason, and the village was the rally point, possibly where he would get briefed. He cracked a little smile, now he wasn't aimless. He walked, where he assumed was north and quickly found a dirt road. He planted the butt of his spear into the ground and crouched to get a better read of the dirt road. It was well used, he could make out tracks fairly easily. But now, which way to go? He looked up the road, and down the road, unsure of which way to go.