Astoria stopped abruptly in front of the coffin, her massive frame quivering with emotion. She lowered her head, and the silence was so profound you could hear the leaves rustling in the wind. Then, as if driven by an unseen force, she reared up on her hind legs. The act was both graceful and terrifying, her powerful muscles rippling beneath her coat.

In one dramatic movement, as her hooves crashed down, the wooden lid of the coffin gave way with a splintering sound that echoed across the cemetery. Gasps erupted from the crowd, and a few people screamed. I stood frozen, my heart pounding in my chest. What had she done?