Whimsical llama encounter

From Wild.

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A couple of hours later, I came to a spring in an idyllic meadow and stopped to get water. It was too beautiful a spot to leave, so afterwards I lingered, soaking my feet in the spring until I heard an ever-loudening jangle of bells. I had only just scrambled to my feet when a white llama rounded the bend and came bounding straight up to me with a toothy grin on his face....

….He smelled like burlap and morning breath. I pulled him discreetly in the direction of my boots and stuffed my feet into them and then petted his long bristly neck in a vigourous manner that I hoped struck him as commanding. After a few minutes, an old woman with two gray braids down the sides of her head came along.

“You got him! Thank you,” she called smiling broadly, her eyes twinkling. With the exception of the small pack on her back, she looked like a woman out of a fairy tale, elfin, plump, and rosy-cheeked. A small boy walked behind her and a big brown dog followed him. “I let go for a moment and off he went,” the woman said, laughing and taking the llama's rope from me. “I figured you'd catch him—we met your friends up the way and they said you'd be coming along. I'm Vera and this is my friend Kyle,” she said, pointing to the boy. “He's five.”

“Hello,” I said, gazing down at him. “I'm Cheryl.” He had an empty glass maple syrup bottle full of water slung over his shoulder on a thick string, which was odd to see—glass on the trail—and it was also odd to see him. It had been ages since I'd been in the company of a child.

“Hello,” he replied, his seawater-gray eyes darting up to meet mine.

“And you've already met Shooting Star,” said Vera, patting the llama's neck.

“You forgot Miriam,” Kyle said to Vera. He placed his small hand on the dog's head. “This is Miriam.”

--Wild, pages 229-230

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