For her, it was not a novelty.

After all, Philomel had had Delath the dragon from when he was tiny - and that meant at four foot long. Then he had grown, lost his wings and been magically aged by the will of Drys and an ancient amulet, but that was another story. Another history. She had still had to deal with his infantile fire breathing and wing-stretching, avoiding those sharp claws and attempts to maul. Certainly, before his maturity he had been a handful, and so it was with some experience of fantastic creatures that Philomel beast-sat a chimaera.

It took the classic proportions. Golden-haired lion's body with the back legs and second head of a proud goat, and the tail the form of an emerald serpent. Three sets of eyes constantly searching, three mouth agape. Even when at night, only one head would sleep at a time, and thus there were usually at least two eyes following your every step. Kept down in a basement that had once been used to house gladiatorial game beasts, the chimaera had a decent stretch to run as well as blackened stone walls and heavy iron bars to stop any uninteresting escape. For some time now his owner, a wealthy merchant by the name of Montrose, had housed him here and fed anyone who failed his trade deals to the creature.

During a heated night of (paid) passion, Montrose had led the faun Matriarch and occaisional courtesan into the cellar. He had waved his arm with a boastful smile and told the tale of how he had won the chimaera in a game of chance. The idea of trading such a beautiful animal as result of cards had made Philomel sick to the stomach, but immediately she had found common ground with the merchant. They had spoken for hours about the trials and tribulations of owning such a beautiful animal - be it dragon or chimaera - and for the first time in her life Philomel had discovered that she liked this man, her patron. Thus, a friendship had begun, resulting in him coming to her in with stress lines on his forehead and stiff from perspiration hair.

"My dear Matriarch, I have been called abroad in emergency. I would never seek to presume this, but after all you said you have a dragon. My chimaera keeper is sick, you see, and there is no one else in my household -"

She had stopped him there and just smiled, nodding.

"Of course," she had said, and gladly taken the money from him. "I will look after William as if he were my own."

"William?" the balding merchant had looked confused.

"Yes, I named your beast for you, since you clearly lacked the desire or the creativity," she had shrugged.

And that, had been that.

Now she stood, two steps from the bars, watching this strong and hearty creautre stride around on massive, head-crushing paws and hooves. In her mind she considered all the possibilities that lay here, all the hopes and dreams. Particularly she admired the goat head, but that was only natural as it made up a half of her genetics. Yet still she loved William for being William, and that was all that mattered.

Three heads twisted around to stare at her with gleaming eyes as she approached. Certainly, she was lucky this animal did not breathe fire. Fur was not one to be rid of the burnt smell easily. Her lips quirked into a smile.

"Hello, William," she spoke gently, reaching out with a huge hunk of bloody meat at the bars. "Let's get started, shall we?"