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Gotham was pleased that he had, perhaps, dulled the edge of her pain, even if it was momentary. The quiet smile that graced her lips was reflected on the boy's, despite his inability to comprehend the entirety of the set of emotions that lay behind it. The expression was sign of a small breach in her sorrow, and that was enough to make him smile, too, for a smile was always a good thing to have on one's face. It widened a little when she said that one day they would take that trip, and go to find Urma's loved one and make her happy again. The little raven pup, being so used to Urma being cheerful and finding little games for them to play, was a little caught off guard by the deep unhappiness that seemed to be nestled deep within her. He nodded a little, which was more of a shuffle of his big head on his giant paws, his blue eyes staying on his ashened friend. Words did not seem necessary, and in fact it seemed like any words he uttered would freeze the moment they got out of his mouth, crack and fall to the ground in silence's cold grasp.
Time could be lurching forward in giant bounds or it could have been taken the tiniest steps possible, and Gotham wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. He was starting to learn that it got chilly at night, so cool that the moisture in the air started to condense on the leaves and the tips of the boy's ears. Urma's closeness was welcome, and he snuggled in a bit closer, her warm white fur contrasting with his. His eyes moved to hers in thanks as he readjusted himself a little, shifting his weight closer to her side and tucking his paws underneath his own body, and his tail thumped a few times against the cool grass before coiling around his side. This was very cozy, and reminded Gotham of when he was little and the times he would curl up with his whole family. He was getting big quite fast, and those cuddles were growing less common. Time was moving so fast, and soon the boy would see his first winter.
He was glad to hear that she had hope, and if he were a little older he would have realized that that was something that had allowed her to continue playing games with him despite the little dark pit she carried around with her. The boy gave a soft smile, his eyes moving to her again. Perhaps it was something he wasn't able to understand completely, but there was no doubt he would remember those words. As she continued to speak he imagined her home, a world with a white blanket of snow, a world that was colder than the one that Gotham lived in. Stories seemed to be very important there, and the pup's ears perked just a little. He liked stories, and something that was important to Urma was surely interesting. He settled his head across his own forepaws and those of his friend as she finished speaking. Eyes wide and looking up to her again, he asked softly, "What kind of myths, Urma?" He was starting to like the way her name rolled off his tongue, the way he was starting to associate it with a mystical world covered in snow that was as white as the female's pelt.
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