They’re loving their playpen. Really, they seem like a bunch of exceedingly happy chickens.
They’ve trampled the long grass flat, mostly, although they still get snagged and tripped up in it and fall over. That’s funny.
They all run outside when I open the hatch in the morning, and they crowd back in the hen door when I approach them. Except this morning, when I strolled up for a look and two of them promptly slipped through the fence like water to get away from me.
That’s a problem.
Luckily, it’s very important to chickens to be with the other chickens, so the teensy one immediately slid back in, but the other one had more trouble doing that, trying gap after gap before he found one that he could fit through. That smallest chicken is a spitfire, always in the forefront and thick of things. I’m gonna have to name them soon.
I’ve added some panels of smaller gauge wire to the lower feet of the fence, defying what seemed impossible and further increasing the utter charmlessness of the whole structure.
This is the one I crushed, who was dragging a leg around for three days, but he has made an apparently full recovery and is growing at a great rate. So they are a little clique of three, the out-of-the-boxers, and they tour around together, always near each other, 
pecking at the wood on the walls and slowly inspecting the perimeter of the coop.
They’re not out of the woods, though. I went in this morning and one was lying on its side in the “death’s door” posture. But he had some fight in him, so I held him to the food trough, since the only meds I’ve got are in the food, and they need to keep getting it in them. I just cupped him in place, and he ate. And ate and ate and ate, then he stood by himself, fell asleep standing, and was bouncing among the others by the time I had their box cleaned. 
Not at a week old. Very frustrating to realize.
You can pick one up while it’s resting, wide awake and scrapping, then set it back down in the same place and it’ll sleep again without taking a step. When they really get into sleeping, the legs rock and fold until they come to “nest position” on the floor, but that’s more for night time. The big two don’t sleep on their feet, they fold their legs the moment they have the intention of napping, with the effect of plowing with their momentum. Flop! And they crash into the resting clutch of birds that gave them the idea and wake them up.
Very difficult to take pictures of.