Marcus shook his head in a dazed, half-awake state as he sat up on the ground, still struggling to wake up as he looked around. It took a few moments, but when he looked around, alarm bells immediately started going off in his head. By no means was this considered "normal"- no, rather, this was anything but. He had just graduated college and was just about ready to go off to search for a temporary job to keep himself afloat, but...

"What kind of a prank is this!?" he shouted, moving to stand up among the strange field he seemed to have just been sleeping in. His clothes, too, had been replaced with some kind of... Well, even then, he hesitated to call it clothing. His memory, though still somewhat hazy, pointed to the clothes originating from pre-industrial- no, pre-Renaissance era levels of technology. So some jerk had decided it was a good idea to go and drop him in the middle of nowhere and swap out all of his clothes AND leave him with nothing... Why? Just for shits and giggles?

Though incredibly close to just blowing up on the spot, Marcus decided to take a deep breath (or ten) to calm himself down. He'd figure out why he was here, for what reason he was here, and how he'd get back at whatever dropped him here in the first place. Though... the colored grass seemed to take hold of Marcus' attention for the moment. As far as he knew, there was no way to paint each plant as they were with such fine detail; maybe they were genetically engineered as such?
...
No, that couldn't be it. To cultivate such a field and not have people knowing about it, ESPECIALLY in the area where he was, was absurd. That, coupled with the fact that he wasn't exactly the soundest of sleepers, probably meant that something was quite amiss. After all, he was pretty certain that he had never seen any plains that were host to these varieties of plants before... Well, that and the fact that he was pretty sure that he hadn't drunk a single drop of alcohol in his entire life, nor touched a single milligram of any illegal drug before.

Well, such worries could wait for later. It seemed to be early morning, given by the location of the sun in the sky, which meant he would have some time to go before being forced to craft some sort of makeshift shelter. The plains around him seemed to expand outwards as far as he could see; that didn't seem productive in the least.

Would he just have to pick a direction and pray for now...?