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Porthos has always been comfortable with his role as second. It combines, as he sees it, the maximum of status with the minimum of effort and responsibility, and if his alpha's choices are often quite strange, well, Jon probably can't help it. Humans, he learned very young, often have strange priorities, but as long as dinner is served at regular intervals, a wise dog learns to pick his battles. His mother gave him a lot of good advice, although he's sure she never expected him to find himself in such strange and varied company or so many peculiar two-leg – he no longer says human unless he means it - dens.
His position requires him to guard his alpha's chosen den, and Jon sensibly chose one small enough to keep a good eye on this time – not like the larger warrens they've lived in before, which Porthos always felt needed more than just the two of them to watch properly, not that Jon ever listened – so that's no real hardship. They regularly get out and walk the bounds of their wider territory, which the humans have self-contained in some fashion so there are very rarely interlopers, much more secure again than their previous home even if he does miss the air outside and real trees to mark. Jon arranges for them to visit other outsides sometimes, full of strange smells and no other dogs to challenge his marks, so in a way they're still his even if they never go back to check on them. It's a bit like being a rogue, a loner, always in new and exciting spaces, with the comfy benefit of being able to come back to his own den afterwards, so he's never had cause to regret choosing Jon.
Jon's pack used to change a lot but it's been pretty constant since they moved to this den, so perhaps he's ready to settle down and do things properly – it's hard to say. They brought Jon's third with them, and that means it could be the start of a real pack, but humans don't always do things sensibly. Porthos likes Trip; he's always friendly and respectful and brings him offerings of nice food, which assures Porthos he's not going to challenge for second – some things can be said clearly enough even though humans can't talk properly – and always does what Jon tells him to, coming and going at his command. Porthos tries to set a proper example, but he's a bit relieved Trip doesn't seem to need it. Some of the two-legs Jon has allowed into this new pack are quite strange, but Porthos is worldly after his years as Jon's second and doesn't turn a hair, even when they smell like nothing he's ever imagined. The not-human female – she doesn't have any manners, but Jon keeps an eye on her and she's shaping up better than he'd've expected. Porthos did wonder if her continued presence might mean she'd be alpha too one day, if Jon was planning on having strange-smelling puppies with her – Porthos would forebear if he did - but she seems happy where she is and she's much less disrespectful of him than she used to be, acknowledges his efforts to remain civil and even occasionally offers him food, but only if there's nobody else to see. He's gracious about it – training is part of his duties, and in the absence of puppies he has the time for an older student.
There have been no other females auditioning for the role of co-alpha in quite some time – back before this den, he occasionally had to inspect Jon's choices, but now Jon's in charge of a larger pack he doesn't seem to have time for them, even the very nice ones they see when they patrol. Porthos likes this pack, because they are (almost) all well-mannered, and greet him properly, with respectful scritches and bites to eat and games to play; he doesn't mind occasionally guarding one or two of them when Jon has business elsewhere. As the only four-leg person in the pack, he just has to be present to command their attention, which is as it should be. (There are other four-legs, sometimes, and some things with more legs or no legs at all, in The Room Jon Doesn't Like where the other odd-smelling two-legs lives, but he doesn't talk to them – they're not even canine and are confined to their little dens. One got out once and he hunted it down for them and brought it back, but they didn't thank him. Still, the two-legs called Phlox is very good at having interesting food to share, so finer manners aren't strictly necessary.)
It's a pretty easy life, overall. He's not too fond of the times when the down stops and everyone starts floating, but Jon is pretty good about telling it to come back and it always does. The air is still something of a problem – it never quite smells right – but no life is perfect.
Sometimes they go and visit other two-legs, sometimes the two-legs are allowed into their territory, though Jon generally makes them leave after a while so things can go back to normal. Not many are allowed into their den – Trip, of course, and T'Pol, though she usually goes away again quickly. Porthos watches to make sure but they never give Jon any trouble.
He wasn't sure what to make of it when one of the odd-smelling two-legs, who visited their territory sometimes and barked at Jon, started coming by their den. Jon called him Shran and barked back and never made him leave, so apparently they weren't actually fighting after all, and Porthos got used to him. Shran was allowed to stay as long as he wanted, eating and drinking and always they growled back and forth at each other, but amicably, so Porthos didn't interfere, and he began to suspect that if there were no more females sharing Jon's den, it might be because Shran was scaring them off. (And really, seeing off unsuitable mates was Porthos's job, but he didn't mind giving it up. He could always have final say, after all.) Shran wasn't female, but he didn't really smell male either – it was often hard to tell with non-human two-legs. It made things very confusing sometimes. Usually he acted male – lots of posturing and growling – but then sometimes he shared Jon's bed and made Porthos go away while they did... actually, Porthos didn't want to know what they did, but he wasn't deaf even if they shut the door so he had a fair idea. Dominance games, presumably.
Shran always went away after a while, and then Jon would mope when he should be enjoying his victory, so Porthos would sigh and do his best to cheer Jon up and remind him that Shran always came back for another round sooner or later. He wasn't sure Jon understood, but eventually they'd get back to their routines, and everything would be fine until Shran came back and the whole thing started again and Porthos was forced to accept that, strange though the pattern was, Jon had apparently taken Shran into their pack even though he went off alone a lot, because otherwise he wouldn't miss him so much when he wasn't there.
Humans. He should know better than to expect them to act sensibly, even Jon, who was usually quite reasonable. He graciously started greeting Shran properly when he came back to their den, even if the two-legs didn't properly return it and didn't seem at all sure what to make of him. Still, someone had to keep up basic civilities and Shran would probably pick up manners over time, if he kept coming back like this.
Then Shran apparently worked out how to behave and started offering him food, and things went much smoother between them. Jon seemed to appreciate both their efforts, and Porthos began to see the benefit of having someone else around to help him defend Jon if necessary – Shran was clearly a fighter. Porthos could understand, if he looked at it that way, why Jon might like his company – they did have a big pack to oversee and perhaps Jon appreciated the help from time to time. Sometimes they went up against other packs, in other mobile dens like theirs, and Shran was usually there to help, sometimes bringing other two-legs to fight as well, sometimes just to stand next to Jon when Porthos couldn't. Then, when they'd seen off the other pack and had their ritual visits to The Room Jon Doesn't Like to have Phlox patch up their injuries (Porthos could always smell it on them, even if they looked fine now) they'd shut themselves away and Porthos would have to guard both of them and their den, all night, all by himself. He grumbled, of course, but he didn't really mind – they'd earned their sleep and Jon was always much more cheerful in the morning if he left them to it. Shran, too, fed him bits from his own breakfast, which made Jon laugh for reasons Porthos didn't understand, but he didn't have to. Odd though it was, everyone was happy, and that was all he wanted.
Still, it would've been nice if there had been puppies to help raise.