If his healing with fire had impressed her--and it had, for there were not many others who healed themselves with fire as she did, though unfortunately her flesh was flammable--his introduction left much to be desired. The Chimaera didn't know, nor did she particularly care what a sin was, though the mention of hellfire was intriguing. Perhaps that was the source she had tapped into a moment ago? Chimaera had a vague sense as to what hell was--information she'd gleaned from mortal prattle led her to believe it was some equivalent of Hades, except slightly more unpleasant. She didn't take much stock in the things mortals discussed, so that was the limit of her knowledge, but... well at least she was a little curious.
Her reaction to his demand was a toss-up between amused and insulted. She was not a mortal, nor a human, nor did she take any stock in proper manners. Chimaera ran by her own rules, made up of a combination of pack etiquette and personal whimsy. The identity of an enemy was hardly of consequence to her, and she was tempted to completely deny him his "request"... however, a glance at her still-chained wrist, plus the absense of her torch, and now her knife...
Well. The Chimaera was simply not in the position to put up a fight anymore, unless she was in the mind to throw a bottle at oil of him, which she didn't think would donate much to her "staying alive" cause. She was disarmed, bound, and completely at the mercy of the being before her--the Sin that was proving to be significantly more powerful than she had initially given him credit for.
Rolling into a defensive crouch, she was mindful to meet his gaze head-on before enunciating carefully: "I am Chimaera." She would see what this Greed knew of Greece and its monsters.