Havelock is altogether too keen, Puck notes as he pulls back, and he can't quite help laughing again.

"Sic erit," he murmurs against his ear, leaning in on tiptoe. His chest is flush against Havelock's-- for balance, he might argue, and to make up for his current invisibility-- and his lips close over Havelock's earlobe between the words. "Haeserunt tenues-- in corde sagittae ..."