Hountrion

Its three heads scan in three directions at once, so it is essentially impossible to flank, and when it runs down prey the heads take turns lunging, giving the quarry no rhythm to time. In a storm it becomes a genuine hazard, the charge arcing between its heads in a constant low thunder, and lesser Electric-types clear the ridge entirely when one arrives. The heads bicker constantly over food and the best sleeping-spot, a snarling three-way argument that resolves, always, in favor of the whole, since there is only one stomach to please.