"Are you planning to go out dressed like that?" Marguerite asked Harry.
The young wolf turned his head toward her as he pulled the long black hooded cloak of the Council over his shoulders. He wore simple black cotton pants, and his leather combat boots were weary over them.
"Yes. Why? Is there something wrong with my outfit?"
The dwarf looked at him with a jaded expression and sighed loudly, "Men, I swear!" Then she quickly walked over to Harry's bag and unceremoniously opened it. "I can't believe it! This is a godforsaken French village in a godforsaken town, not a putain de f*****g medieval city with candlelight!"
She shouted victoriously and pulled a long-sleeved black shirt from the bag.
Harry let out a disapproving grunt as he realized what she had chosen for him to wear.
"This
