Fox's Glade [m] biology, i am an organism, i'm chemical

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: heat thread + language

Her heat had truly begun now. There was no more denial or trying to ignore it. 
Wren may as well be dying. Wave after wave of urges that poison her and only grow stronger with every passing hour. Breeding. A mate. A man, a woman, someone, anyone to just fucking touch her. What she wanted was her cowboy back to the West, and yet every time she thought of him and his stupid yellow smile, the anger and resentment almost overtook the lust. The thoughts ping-pong around her mind at a thousand miles an hour and it makes her want to scream until her throat grows hoarse and her veins bulge.
And so that is exactly what she plans to do. 
Having figured she was now far enough away from the Creek, the glade was to become her temporary sanctuary. A place isolated... enough. The grass is lush and forgiving beneath her feet, and all is silent aside from the whistle of leaves with the breeze. 
And so with one big, deep breath, one that feels as if it takes up all of her lung capacity, the silence is broken. 
AAAAAAAAAAAHHH! 
It ricochets off of the trees, the four walls of grass around her and hits her ears in a way that makes them squeeze tight to her head. She stands there, panting hard, weary eyes focused on her claws that grip the grass and sink into the dirt. 
She wouldn't cry. She would not fucking cry. No, no, instead, she would sink down to the ground, knees buckling as she curls in on herself like a terrified, helpless fawn, and let her eyes grow blurry. But tears would not fall.