This is one of the neatest things about writing into the hypertext storyworld: you can have fun.
What drew him there he couldn’t tell you. It was an instinct that he could not fight with any rational argument. He crossed the road simply because he was an armadillo and that was what armadillos do.
His father had been run down by a cart laden with corn to feed chickens. His brother had met his death on the road in a race to the death with Coyote. The pleadings of his wife fell on deaf ears as he set out that night, confident of his own invulnerability. He had faith in his God-given armor.
In the end, his faith in himself and his God let him down. He ended up as just another roadkill.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology