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

And to think just mere moments ago Wren may have thought that this could not possibly get any worse. 
Oh my god, shut the fuck up! The child's wailing was like the sound of screeching tires; unending, and shockingly loud. It was in this moment that Wren knew, definitively, that she would be an abysmally shitty mother. 
With ears that folded back in a feeble attempt at drowning out the noise, Wren does the one thing she can think to do. She hoists herself to her paws, nudges the child with the tip of her nose, and tries to pick her up by the scruff. I'm takin' yah home, she mumbles, muffled by the inky fur that softened her teeth. so your fuckin' fatha can deal with yah then.