"Don't be sorry," Hecate found the words hard to believe. She wasn't apologizing specifically to him (though she was in some way). She was apologizing to everyone. She was apologizing to her parents for not following their rules and apologizing to her siblings for cowering. Every word out of her maw was stressed and stuttered because she didn't listen and she paid for it. If she had listened to her family than perhaps she would have been different. Perhaps she would still be with her family. No. She didn't want to be like them. She remained still, not answering his words other than letting her tensed muscles relax as she let the war wage on around her head.
Often times Hecate had this battle but the cowering side of her mind always seemed to win and so the cycle continued. Tears were in her eyes as her mind was tortured with the war between angels and demons. They deserve an apology but they don't. They hurt me and they tortured me. The words were spat from both sides of her as she sat there, not moving other than the slight rise and fall from every breathe she took through her nose. Finally, she would find the courage to speak with minimal stutter. "A-am I a bad w-wolf?" This was a question that had to be answered. Was she as bad as her family told her she was? Was she truly the evil one or were they?