Atlas watched the little house elf go before he spoke to Minerva. "I've never killed as a man," he told her then. Which was true. He'd never killed anyone in human form. He'd almost killed Natasha though. . . he'd wanted too. But he wasn't that much of a monster. "Just as a wolf."
He was next to the back wall of the room, so he leaned against it, trying to take his posture down and calm down a bit. He didn't want to be angry with her. "You're right," he said then, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't want any help. I've done a damn good job taking care of myself for the past four years. I don't like dragging people into my life. . . into all of this."