Wren should have been hypersensitive to his surroundings considering what he'd been through, even if he was having screaming nightmares, but he was so damaged that even this didn't work the way it should. He was a jumpy little thing some of the time, easily spooked, unsure about making contact, while at others he could wiggle up close, craving touch and disregarding what should have been obvious signs of danger.
Despite his hyperarousal working as intermittently as the hardware in his head did, he didn't wake from the terrors in his head at the approach of the not-really-a-fox, or as the un-animal sat and contemplated him as he struggled ineffectually in his cradle of tree roots against horrors that had already happened and were only remembered, for whatever little mercy that was.
The voice from outside his head managed to pierce his dreams and wake him, the sound of his sob leaving in a hiccupped sigh, his last scream still echoing off the trees around them and making Wren press himself low instinctively. He'd whipped back from the noise as he'd woken, his body pressed back against the bulk of the tree behind him, all curled up like he had to protect himself from a kicking. His eyes caught the shape of the fox immediately, even in the dark, but looked away to scan the woods, trying to find whoever it was who had spoken, his little chest heaving as he hastened to get his breathing back under control.
He hadn't really heard what was said, just that there was a voice saying it, and because that meant there was someone out here in the woods with him, and because this was Wren, he broke the silence left behind by his screaming to rasp out a hoarse, "I'm sorry, I was asleep." He didn't even have the sense to keep watch, his eyes drawn back to the fox who so enchanted Wren that he smiled and held a hand out like the animal was a dog or cat that might press in for a pet.