After the tragic hawk attack and the demise of Pepper, the hens at my mother's house were (quite literally) cooped up. That didn't sit well with them. They felt the need to adamantly reassert their pecking order and apparently, Checkers is at the very bottom. By the time she was discovered, a good deal of her back and wing feathers were ripped out and she was obviously in a lot of pain.
Glinda, Rosie and a handful of chicks made their way to Indiana with us. Hoping that the two other hens would be gentler with Checkers, the three of them went to live in the chicken coop while the chicks are growing a bit bigger before their venture outside in a spare water trough.
". . . even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings . . .". She had collected her multi-breed chicks of varying age under her wings and kept them safe and warm.
I'm going to try to be more like Checkers.