Wren withdrew his offered hand when the fox pulled away, rubbing at his face with the back of his hand instead in an attempt to dry the tear tracks that just ended up making his face look even more grubby. He'd seen foxes in the woods before, but none ever dared come so close and he was enraptured just studying the creature, it's dark fur marking it out as different, his glitching eye making his head ache as it demanded that he was seeing more than one tail there.
He was bemused when the fox spoke though, wide-eyed in his shock to the point where he didn't speak up until the fox asked him a question. "This is my bed." he said, baffled not only by the speaking animal but by queries that he didn't quite understand. "I didn't have a toy. I live here. I sleep here lots." he puzzled out before hugging his knees to his chest against the cold and making his own enquiries. "I didn't know foxes can talk. Or is it just ones who are black with tails? The other ones don't talk to me." He seemed quite ready to accept the oddity of a talking animal, given that he wasn't exactly well versed in flora and fauna and he wasn't about to deny they existed when there was one in front of him speaking to his face.