Open to anyone. Halifax.
Not far from the motel where he and his family had decided to take up residence, Silas had discovered a liquor store with the help from a dark colored wolf from Cours de Miracles. The Russian boy had been excited upon seeing the flag from the motherland and had secretly decided he would go back on his own to take it down and keep it for himself. So it was there that he found himself now, looking over the shelves of bottles that he and Heath had spent time peering at – grinning when his icy gaze fell over the Russian Standard he had cracked open upon his last visit.
His eyes fell then on another flag – almost identical to the one in the window, except larger. A grin caught his features as Silas made his way towards it, reaching up to remove it from behind the counter that was once used to exchange currency. He pulled at the tacks that held it in place, stripping it down from the wall in jovial spirits.
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