Porthos mutters, but does as he's instructed, hissing as each movement seems to jostle the injured leg in a way he hadn't expected. It serves him right for tumbling over a balcony after a criminal, but he's gotten so used to thinking he's untouchable. He's not meant to fall apart this easily. "Aramis bolted, didn't he," Porthos notes darkly. "He knows I'm a moody patient." And the milder the wound, the more he has energy to complain.