Death was near.
The carcass of something small and furry lay still and quiet.
An out-of-luck opossum blinded by the lights was hit and tossed like an unintended entrée for the night, left with a bleak and toothy grin in eternal slumber, lying cold and grim on the moonlit street.
In a slipshod attempt to miss the frightened animal, the assailant car had hit a trash can for good measure, disgorging its contents on the sidewalk.
The fresh kill scent lingered in the air as a group of raccoons danced merrily about, giddy at the sight of such a sumptuous feast.
Scavenging rats sniffed with eager excitement and followed their nose, telling them easily that death had passed a while before but everything was fine now.
Dinner was at hand.