Porthos lingers by the door, not just to stand guard, but because it's the easiest place for him to lean. He hasn't got his sword, only his pistol, because the rest had been too heavy to think about. Then again, he's still got his fists. He adjusts his stance, keeping his lower back on the wall near the door, watching it for a stranger or a ghost.

"What do you think takes care of something like this?"