She escaped the moment she found a crack in the door; her wings were steady again, her strength re-instated.
She had been too young, too sick and too weak when the others around her had passed on to another world. That was when she had been taken back in, to be fed and cared for. But was that enough for her? Did she not pine to spread her wings and fly out to see all that there was out there to see? Her company mostly comprised of another clipped young-a-ling of sorts, who had it worse and couldn't even fly. Atleast she had her wings intact.
The only thing standing between her freedom and ''home of sorts'' was fear of the unknown and an inability to be sure of herself just yet; for if she was ready to take flight or not.
Then one day, she put all caution aside, left all her what-if's behind, and soared off... while''home of sorts'' waited for her return patiently, and return she did; hungry, disheveled, askew!
Good food, water, a bed to sleep in, and she was good to go again... tomorrow... the moment that crack in the door invited her again.