On the willows there, we hung up our lyres

Galahad's got it bad for a guy who always seems like he's half a minute away from trying to sell you an extended warranty for something. Whatever; Janet's used to it from living through Eliot's ongoing parade of shitty boyfriends. When he gets to the heraldry, she leans forward a little to examine it. "That's bigger than your typical tramp stamp," she points out. "You still want it there? If I make it too small, it might not age well."