Taking The Fields By Storm (Open)

It lumbered. It scuffled. It slithered and slathered and pulled and jerked. When you had 7 legs, such was a way of life. 7 legs, 1.5 heads, and a shit ton of tusks. Mutations happened, but for this poor boar mutation hardly even seemed a fitting description. With a bloated head-ish looking tumour on its shoulder, an extra leg per side and one unfortunately dangling uselessly from its chest, the creature was a horror to behold. Luckily, no one did for very long. Possessing a horrifying array of tusks that brandished themselves like sickly yellow swords from its mouth (and the mouth of its other head), the boar eviscerated everything it saw that it could get its tusks on. The creature was remarkably quick, but turning with all those legs was a bit of a hassle. With a comical oink oink sound as it inhaled, the beast scented the two interrupted fuck-friends and made a charge straight for them.