An unexpected guide

The hill was barely visible through the sudden mist that had descended to shroud the morning, a hill we needed to climb. There was, though, no sign of a path by which to reach it…and no-one in this wild landscape who could tell us which way to go…

‘There is a Llama in the next field!’
I smile nonchalantly, determined not to fall for that one.
‘There cannot be a Llama in the next field Wen, because we are in the North Yorkshire Moorlands and not the Mountains of Peru.’
Still some distance ahead, Wen turns back to look into the field and then back to me. ‘Not only is there very definitely a Llama in the next field. It is now looking directly at us.’
‘There cannot be a Llama…’ I start to remonstrate again but then I catch up to Wen and look into the next field… at…