Haze held his rugged ears against his skull aggressively. What was the damn point? What was the god damned point of coming to a rut club (where he was supposed to be guaranteed a lay) if every demi was gonna swerve around him like he had some fuckin disease? The ache in his pants was makin him antsy, and his resting "fuck you and your mom" face was not helping to attract a mate over where he was standing by the wall. Obviously the giant scar over his left blind eye, and his gold plated prosthetic left leg, and the scars running up his arms were probably aiding in the way all potential mates looked him down like he was going to eat them. But it wasn't fair. He wanted to breed too, damnit!