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And then, it was like a cold, artic wind had blown past, because the temperature seemed to have dropped to subzero levels and the Gargoyle froze, his wing recoiling away from Coralie as if he'd been burned. Morton's eyes narrowed and for a second, it almost looked as if he were indeed going to toss the broom and it's passengers to the side. However, with a jerk of his head, he promptly let go of the broom, though his teeth had left gaping marks on the wood from where he'd bit into it harder than he'd wanted to, just seconds ago.

"If I'd been trying to molest you, I wouldn't have been using this form. If you're THAT ticklish, learn to fess up instead of being a sore loser," he sounded more wounded or hurt than anything, though there was anger bubbling underneath the words, "Can I have back my collar now?" it was less of a question and more of a demand, because he didn't even wait for her to answer him or react. Instead, the wing he'd previously used to tickle her, moved in again and snatched the collar from her. He tossed it up in the air and caught it in his mouth; as soon as that happened, his true form melted away and he stood in his bipedal form. The collar still dangled from his mouth, though it did nothing to hide his deeply irritated expression at bay.

Shooting her one last glance, he beat his wings and shot up into the air, through the foliage and away from her, no doubt heading back to his dorm room. No, he had no idea if she WAS or WASN'T ticklish - he'd been pretty much... grasping for straws there, but then again, he just honestly didn't care anymore.