Houndos

It hunts by scent and speed across open ground, herding smaller creatures toward a partner in a rough pincer that suggests more planning than a lone animal manages. When a squall builds it does not shelter; it climbs to meet it, fur standing on end, drinking the charge until its next bark carries a real jolt. It sleeps in a shallow scrape lined with anything metal it has scavenged, waking with a static crackle, and it greets its packmates by touching noses in a small blue spark that seems to be entirely affectionate.