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Dewey Wellman is kinfolk to the Fianna. His specific garou and kinfolk clan are a pack (well, several packs) of nasty, inbred and vicious hillfolk. They are essentially the worst stereotypes of Appalachian people. They may be the genesis of those stereotypes. Dewey, on the other hand, was something of a changeling from the time he was a child. Moderately bright and truly gifted when it came to languages, he was the runt of the litter, as his father often told him, and wasn't expected to amount to much. And by the rough, anachronistic standards of his family, that probably would have been true, especially after it became less and less likely that he was going to go full Garou eventually.
On the eve of being mated off to a cousin at the age of 14, Dewey ran. And he didn't stop running for several years. He lived in large cities, often homeless, usually hungry, always worried. But that gift for languages and a need to learn served him well and he was able, with a little help, to finish school, albeit a couple of years late and get a partial scholarship in the linguistics program at the University of California, Prospect. In addition to being a student, he makes a modest (very modest) living as a freelance translator for various city services (including the police) and the occasional private client. Being fluent in over a dozen languages keeps him afloat, if not awash with cash.
Most of all, he's enjoying his freedom, but always wondering, in the back of his mind, if his kin won't show up one day to drag him back. Their view on their human kin that they are, more or less, property. And valuable property at that. It's a view that has mostly fallen out of favor, or at least been moderated somewhat, in Garou society, but Dewey doesn't know that, yet. Thus he tends to be wary and suspicious of interacting with his own kind and the Garou themselves.
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