[Did someone say bored? Because there's the distinct sound of some kind of a racket coming from somewhere above him, from one of the upper levels of the castle, and sure enough, soon Porthos will have to watch out as it seems to be raining demons.
One demon, to be exact. Stiles appears to be doing the least graceful flight of all time, landing in a rolling heap next to Porthos, his clothes dusty with something like smoke and his face not much better.]
Yo, Porthos! [Pushing himself upright, Stiles grins up at him, dusting his shoulders at the same time.] How's it going? Busily guarding Her Malevolence?