Urma seemed surprised that he had won! Perhaps she was used to winning. The idea made Gotham a little excited that maybe he was actually good at this game. The boy beamed from on top of the big rock, watching as his female companion sat down beside him. To her congratulations he only offered a small smile. He had only won once, after all, so it wasn't really proven that he was good at the game. It would be a few more times before he would consider himself competent. And, of course, he had to win fairly. Urma seemed rather lost on that last round, and Gotham had seriously considered that he was playing someone that had no sense of smell. The thought hadn't really crossed his mind that she might be fooling him, but there was, as for every situation he found himself in, a little seed of doubt in the boy's head that would grow into a tree of disbelieve if given sufficient rain. Gotham had a critical mind, and he would not suspend his disbelief for too long without a seriously good reason.
He was completely pleased with winning, though, because he got to hide again! To be a good representative of the male portion of the species he had to be sneaky, and this was certainly a skill he was working on now. Of course, he had to work on hunting and finding, too, and if Urma didn't win soon enough he would just have to ask her to switch. She seemed kind of disappointed for just a minute there, and Gotham's eyebrows arched in sympathy. If she had kept it up for just a little bit longer he would have offered to be the seeker, but the expression quickly faded from her features and she encouraged him to hide again. "Guess so," he replied softly, hoping that her continuing role did not make her unhappy.
Though he knew that he couldn't accept the idea that he was good at the game without a few more trials, the little words added an extra bit of bounce to his step. He bounded away as she started to count, this time off to the side that she had been looking for him before, and moved close to the trees. For a moment he wished that he could climb them, because it would be so easy to disappear within the leafy and multitudinous branches, but that desire dissipated as he spotted a little nook inside a tree, where the large roots seemed to cross over. He was too small to climb the tree, but still a good size to wiggle into the little bit of concealed space. The boy backed in, so as not to get stuck with his face in the dirt, and pressed himself to the ground as much as possible. His head was still level with the ground, and he tried to correct for that by pressing his ears back. Now, he mustn't make a noise! Gotham even considered closing his eyes, because other than those bright blue peepers he looked quite the shadow.