Blackbeak Bluff I'm in danger!

He cocked an ear as she spoke, wondering if he simply could not hear her or the words she said were those that he had no knowledge of. He wasn't well-travelled, and had encountered dialects he hadn't heard before. This must've been that. 

But her question made it through. He stared at her for a moment before returning his gaze to the horizon. He'd thought about this a lot. There was plenty he regretted. Not recently, but in his past. Many wolves suffered under his orders. Many died. Those actions carried guilt--nothing that could be dismissed with an apology. He could pin it on his father, if he really wanted. 

But the guilt wasn't from killing alone. The guilt came from his enjoyment of inflicting harm on others. Just another hunt, he'd tell himself, and had fun. That is what he regretted. But to admit that was to admit that it had happened. 

"Plenty. Doubt you'll find a wolf says otherwise." he said.