"It was an escape attempt."

"Why is it exactly you can't take them out on supervised walks or whatever? This isn't illegal here at this time, is it?"

"We used to, but by now most of them are stronger and faster than standard humans by enough margin to make that logistically difficult even if we prevented them from taking off directly.  And I don't expect it to surprise you that walks don't quite meet their standard of actual freedom."  Elevator's done.  Hallway hallway.

"No, but it might have gotten you more goodwill toward your staff, conceivably." Hallway. Tripping but catching himself with his own wings. Hallway.

"They do usually have rooms with televisions and other amenities.  When they're not using them to create explosives."

"I don't expect it to surprise you that this doesn't quite meet their standards of affection-engendering treatment." Are they there yet.

"It doesn't."

Just about!  There's a corner to go around and a messily-demolished section of wall with some rubble to step over, and then another besecurity'd door.  And behind that there's a room with a cluster of six dog crates!

"Crates? Really? You couldn't spring for some nice suites with barred doors?"

"We did do that until they blew them up.  Construction's underway."

"Hello there, fellow winged folks," Cam says to the bird kids. "My name is Cam."

"Hi."

"I am powerful enough to boss the people in charge here around a bit and I am getting you guys out of there. Do you know where you'd wanna go?"

"The bottom of the world."

"I can't recommend that, it's a really long trip. How do you feel about a city I built in one of the cylinder pockets? There'll be other winged people to blend in with."

"Really?"

"How, why.  - Guys, does he really have wings - "

There's a few simultaneous "Yeah"s and "Yes"es.

"...because I am a decent person and you are children in crates."

"Why are there other wingy people to blend in with."