The male had been on his own for a while, painfully aware of his past. The pack that had took him in had kicked him out and left him to die, repeating the same cycle that his mother had. He was too weak, not worth it. Though, now he had learned and was able to care for himself. He could live on his own, even though it took one death to figure it out. He was independent now. He could live without them. Now, he wanted to know what he might of had if he was born just a little bit stronger. How did these groups function? What did they have to offer? Were they really that great or was he better off on his own? One way to find out.
The male had been taking a gentle, easy fly over the land. The skies had been a bit cloudy at the start of his journey, but not enough for concern. As he continued his flight, the clouds got slowly darker and darker, more dense as time went on. That alone did not concern the wolf, however, once the first droplets of rain came falling down, he knew he'd have to land. Those clouds brought tales of horrible storms, storms that could kill. They came suddenly and without mercy. The first bits of water hit his pelt, and the male found the soonest place to dive-bomb.
So, as the storm was bearing down, quickly becoming horrid, Jasper would make a bit of a crash landing near the Volary Flights' camp. He was unaware that this was the place where creatures lived, but as he got his bearings, the wolf would quickly realize that he was in group territory, freezing as he scrambled for an idea of what to do. There was no way he could go back out, the rain was already piercing the top layers of plants and hitting them down below. Cracks of thunder were sounding overhead, flashes of lightning would soon follow. Hopefully they were friendly.