"Of all the trageds we Garou have endured, surely the loss of the Bunyip pains us the worst. For they were a tribe of great wisdom and honorable hearts, and now they are slain forever — at our own hands. We should have known. Garou is Garou. When we first walked their lands, they hid from us. Then, when we met them, we found them strange and alien. Did they not breed with the thylacine, not truly a wolf at all? Had they not chosen a barren land to guard? Did they not avoid us when we walked their lands, rather than challenging our right to tread their territories?

But Garow is Garou, and we did not remember that. Wyrmbaiter. The cursed one. He was the one who called us all to avenge the loss of his sister. He was the one who called for war without merely. And damn us all, we followed him. A year, One year was all it took. Were the children of the Rainbow Serpent so few? Were we so mighty? We were received, yes. But that is no excuse. We did the Wyrm's work, all the time telling ourselves that it was necessary. May Gaia have mercy on us.

Of all the Lost Tribes, the Bunyip are the most senseless casualty. Unlike the Croatan, their death achieved nothing. Unlike the White Howlers, they did not fall from pride. The Bunyip were lost to Black Spiral treachery and unthinking Garou prejudice, and there was nothing noble about their deaths at all.

The Bunyip split from the other tribes at the beginning of the Impergium. Sickened by the violence against humans, they crossed into the Penumbra in search of a land where the only thing they would have toflgit would be the Wyrm. Eventually, their travels led them to Australia. Here they settled, and here they bred with the aborigines and with the thylacines. The mix of marsupial blood colored their physical forms, but they never lost track of what it was to be Garou.

They taught their Kin the lore of the Umbra and spread their spirituality throughout the native tribes. With the Bunyip as their protectors, the humans here never felt the terror of the Impergium. But when the Europeans came, the other tribes followed. The Bunyip kept well away from the newcomers and instead preferred to wait and watch. As for the other tribes — well, their reactions on discovering werewolves already in Australia were indescribable. Many thought that the long-separated tribe was some degenerate form of Black Spiral Dancer, or not even Garou at all. The misunderstandings grew and grew, and the Bunyip withdrew even further from their cousins in the belief that the newcomers were enemies of the Dreamtime.

The final stroke took place in the 1930s. One of the greatest Red Talon heroes in Australia, a warrior named Wyrmbaiter, found the mangled body of his sister strewn across a rock carved with the Rainbow Serpent. He immediately suspected the strange Bunyip and called a moot to determine justice for his murdered sister. Although the Bunyip were invited, they never arrived—which was all the proof Wyrmbaiter needed. The proud Ahroun formed a great war party and led it against the Bunyip. One by one, the Bunyip fell, until the last one died at Wyrmbaiter's teeth. But as he stood over that last body, a soft voice reached his ears. It was the voice of a Black Spiral Dancer, one whose pack had slain Wyrmbaiter's sister and kept the Bunyip from attending the rucial moot.

Maddened by the realization of his mistake, his unthinking genocide, Wyrmbaiter threw himself into a deep cave and was never heard from again. Although the Garou of today still hope that a few, even one, of the Bunyip anaged to escape the great slaughter, each passing year makes it seem more and more unlikely. The totems of the Dreamtime refuse to speak to the uropeans, and tales persist of Bunyip ghosts who hunt living Garou in the outback. It seems unlikely that the spirits of Australia can ever forgive the Garou for this terrible, terrible deed — even if the Garou could forgive themselves."

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