For as long as he could remember, Theodore Tuck was plagued by the same nightmare. In marsh blanketed in fog, Tuck would find himself surrounded by sharp gnashing teeth, frothing with spittle and blood as they snarled and snapped, desperate to tear the flesh from his bones. Sometimes there would be hundreds; sometimes only one. And each morning he would awaken with a fresh new scar.

Certain that the dreams were an ill-omen and determined to face his fears and destroy them at the root, Tuck searched field, forest, and mountain the country over, finally coming face to face with those nightmarish creatures in Louisiana. He proved his mettle hunting the beasts of the Bayou and through his skill with animals, but when he set out to tame the hellhounds themselves, even most Hunters thought he’d gone too far. His attempts earned him infamy – and many additional scars.