what happens next

Enrico hesitated at the top of the gangplank. His eyes were drawn to the hatch, some distance away near the bow of the ship. He didn't go there much, not after he was sure the prisoner held there would survive his wounds. Asriel would most often go to feed him, usually dropping him food. Sometimes he'd drop through the hatch into the locked hold below, since unlike wolves the cat could leap high enough to return through the same way he'd gone in, but once the prisoner had recovered enough to pose a threat Enrico had asked him not to. He didn't want to risk Basilius hurting his friend to get at him.

But he hesitated, a lingering, haunted expression crossing his face as he eyed the hatch. Asriel was still away hunting, and as far as he knew it was just him on the ship.

Him and Basileus.

He steeled himself and trotted over to the hatch, shoved it forcibly aside. A ptarmagin and a hare were sent tumbling from his jaws into the dim pit. The other pair of grouse were laid on the deck. They'd be left for the rest of the pack, not the prisoner.

"Still alive, Scarlatti?" he called down roughly.