Meet Ilma, our mascot. (She prefers Compliance Connoisseur.)

Nobody really knows where Ilma came from.
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Or why she knows so much about security and compliance. Or, for that matter, why she doesn’t stand on all fours like the other llamas.

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She just appeared one day and it was as if she'd always been here.

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But people talk. 

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Some swear they saw her step out of a secret entrance in a conference room in our SF office. But we inspected that wall from top to bottom, and the only thing we found was a patch of purple glitter on the floor that the cleaning crew still can't seem to remove.

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She came right in, claimed a hot desk, and started asking questions of anyone she could. Some of us even thought we saw her grilling Christina, our CEO…but her back was turned to us, so it’s hard to say for sure.

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The questions just kept coming. How do you automate compliance? How many frameworks do you support? Are you enterprise-ready? What about your AI capabilities? And on and on…

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One thing we noticed about Ilma from the start: she already knew an inexplicable amount about security and compliance. How? Great question. (“A llama never tells,” she replied.) Our running theory is that llamas make surprisingly good watch animals in the wild, so maybe it's just her instinct to be drawn to good security.  

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But if she has animal instincts outside the security space, we've never seen them. She’s as refined and discerning as they come.

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And from what we've gathered from snippets of overheard conversations, she's been searching the world for great security for a very, very long time. “Great recognizes great,” as she once sniffed.

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Ilma became a bit of a fixture in the office. Honestly, once we got used to the questions, and the glitter, and the…well, the llama roaming the halls, a lot of us kinda hoped she’d stay forever.

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But one day, out of the blue, her in-office inquisition came to a close. She stood up, smiled a secret smile, and gave a deeply satisfied nod of approval. Then she disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke. 

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Or maybe she took the elevator. The stories change depending on who you ask.

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But the next thing we knew, there she was on billboards and buses, very publicly approving of what we do, and being the best brand ambassador you could ask for.

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Oh, but let's clear the record on one thing. We call her our mascot, but she's made it quite clear that she works for no one (“I'm nobody's beast of burden,” as she told us). We even offered to pay her, but she raised an eyebrow at us so sharply that we didn't dare try again.

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Having a llama for a fan wasn't exactly on our company roadmap. But maybe, in the end, she's exactly the fan we needed. We won the trust of an impossible-to-please, mysterious purple security llama—and we don't plan to give her a reason to change her mind.