Her wings were still new to her. She tried so desperately to escape the far corner of the coop that she gave the appearance of having been injured. I lifted her gently, checking each of her fragile parts - legs, neck, wings - then placed her into the quarantine kennel where she sat atop the straw, blinking and stunned. She rested and gathered her resolve. When I unlatched the door next, she judged the opening correctly and quickly flew past me, the tip of her wing brushing my cheek ever so lightly as she lit upward. She kept aloft at about shoulder height, enough to make it into the criss-crossed branches of the trees where she rested again for a brief moment before moving on.