[Her eyebrows raise at him. Lexa isn't exactly a person who takes kindly to even a hint of condescension about her people's ways. Between Skaikru and the Mountain Men, they have been treated like savages quite a bit. Even this sliver of dislike grates against her nerves, and she cants her head to the side and lifts her chin up, like she's accustomed to answering condescension with more condescension.]

My people are the survivors of the decimation of our world. We make weapons out of scrap, but we lack the power you're indicating here. There were those who did have it, but they ... took care of themselves. [To an extent.

Lexa doesn't feel bad for what happened to the people in the Mountain.

Only that Clarke had to do it, and that she forced her hand.]