Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-26052600-20160302043959/@comment-25547106-20160328052913

Moor Dread now hears the voice once more, this time he sees a feminine black form rising out of the golem's shadow. It reaches forward and caresses Moor Dread's flaming form, chilling him once more with its necrotic touch, but not enough to put out his flame. For your strength, I'll let you live... But don't melt my hubby again, or I'll extinguish you like the little campfire you are... The golem sat in place, just barely conscious after the amount of damage it'd sustained. The shadow approaches it, caressing its chin. ''You did good, honey, now put yourself back together. We've still got to deal with the brat...'' she says, disappearing back into its shadow as it pulls out a glass vial, breaking it on its chest. It rises to stand, the wound in its shoulder reopening and more of its murcurial blood seeping from it, but this time, it flows like a tendril down and touches the molten slag that used to be its arm. The slag reforges itself into an arm, the murcurial blood guiding it back into place on its shoulder. With its left arm repaired, it turns its attention to Mercy, but its rage is over and its frenzy gone. In a deep, intimidatingly gruff voice, it finally speaks.

"I'm leaving. Don't fuck with my forest..." it comments, slinging its sword over its shoulder and sprinting off.

(Thanks for the ret-con. I'm sorry for being rude.)