The woman stooped low and gathered a motionless bundle of fur into her arms.

She cradled it before

laying the dead raccoon into a sack that hung from her shoulder. She finished her round of the
neighborhood, finding a flattened squirrel whose tail had fallen off. There was also what she guessed was
a crow. She brushed the feathers and her thumb dipped into its skull. Maybe it was a young raven. Careful
to hold the sack in such a way that it didn’t bounce against her hip. She walked home. The rusted gate
squeaked shut behind her.