Roadkill

One cold night, drawn to the lingering warmth of the pavement, he met his greatest threat, the automobile. The nine-banded armadillo spent millions of years evolving its armor against ground stalkers and diving raptors, but it's still no match to a speeding Ford Raptor.

He came back stronger and smarter.
Now his legs stay low, patiently reading the road through his feet long before the headlights appear. When they do, he reads them as targeting data. His snout still twitches, but not for insects. He sniffs out hot rubber and high-octane fuel, making a note of who's been by.