Further details of the encounter are best left to others to relate. Minstrels in the City would later write laments based on the stories of those who fought there. Monkeys would add to the legends they maintain, while young ones, growing up in the tradition of their kind, would all have something to tell.
The fact is, animals won the Battle. Yet there was no real end, no sudden surrender. The army of men became dispersed, some carrying on the fight as they retreated to the City. The Riders were still chasing them, hunting the last pockets of resistance. All the while the citizens looked to the King and his advisers for inspiration, but could not find them.
Bear stayed behind, wandering among the wounded or exhausted animals. It seemed he had gained a reputation for himself. Some animals thanked him for an opportune blow, or a timely rescue, though he felt he hardly deserved it. He was very tired, but during the fighting there had been no time to think of weariness. His claws and paws were bruised and soiled with the blood, skin and clothing of men.
'Congratulations,' 'Heroic,' 'Bravo,' were all terms thrown his way by the grateful animals. Perhaps, he thought after a while, I was quite brave out there. But as he limped along, looking at tired and drawn faces, all feelings of heroism evaporated. The nimble fingers of monkeys tended to the injured, who lay there on the trampled grass. Wounds were licked as eyes stared up to the sky. Although the elation of victory remained, it was tempered with sadness. This is only the start, he thought, of the real work that lies ahead. He was thinking about the City, of how its residents must be feeling. He thought also of the Insiders who had been unable to come. Of mothers waiting for news of the conflict and their offspring's part in it. News that was already on its way back, in the beaks of birds. Or in the chatter of monkeys, clinging to the manes of the swiftest ponies as they sped back to the Forest.
'Would you help me please?' a small voice asked him as he wandered about. It was a young badger, fur matted around its snout, looking at him with one eye almost closed.
'Certainly,' said Bear without hesitation as he picked the unfortunate animal up. 'Where do you want to go?'
'Back to the Inside, eventually,' the badger said, 'but first I think I should see someone about my leg.' There was a long cut from the ankle up to the knee, which was bleeding.
'I expect it will be alright,' Bear assured her. 'I'm the same,' and he showed his own red wound. 'I believe a nursing point has been set up.' He pushed through the throng of animals, asking as he went if anyone knew where it was. They were directed to a small wood on the right of the battlefield. Bear headed toward it, cradling the badger in his arms.
'Are you the cause of it all?' the badger asked him as they walked.
'Cause of what?' Bear queried.
'The fighting,' it replied. 'Only, my uncle said there had been a bear at the Occasion who had caused everything. They sent us here after that.'
Bear remembered the Occasion all right. Could the officious badger he had met there, and again with the Elders, be this young one's uncle?
'I don't think I caused anything,' Bear told him. 'There are lots of bears around,' he continued, even if that wasn't quite true. It seemed he had more of a reputation than he'd supposed, and not only the one earned in the fighting. He looked down, expecting more questions, but the badger had fallen asleep. Bear pressed on toward the trees ahead of him. A few of the animals seemed to be heading back now to the Inside, their work done. Most were still spread around, sitting in groups all over the fields. Some were getting their energy back, others were keen to get to the City and see where their ancestors had lived.
The rest, including some Riders, and animals too sick or wounded to travel, had formed a gathering. They filled the nearby wood and its surrounding area, trampling the grass flat. By now the daylight was fading, and a few large fires were being lit for the night ahead.
Bear gave his wounded badger to a sprightly young monkey. He lay him down and started to investigate the wounds to begin the healing process. 'He'll be fine,' the monkey told Bear after a while. 'Just a bad gash, nothing broken. But what about you?' The monkey had noticed Bear's injury.
'It's fine, tend him first,' he said. He found some space to sit on his own.
'Humph! I suppose we should be grateful to you, now,' a voice said behind him, in a familiar imitation.
He looked up, startled. The sight he saw was barely discernible through the tears that welled up in his eyes. 'I don't believe it, is that really you?' he choked.