"Interesting, interesting indeed. It seems like he follows a diffrent school of swordsmanship; perhaps, one best suited for his draconic strength,"- thought Meats, observing Auron's stance. It provided a good amount of protection to his upper body, and this definetly put his high guard at a disadvantage, as most horizontal attacks, which would be hard to dodge, but not block, could be performed only from above. Vertical slashes were also out of consideration - with dominiant reach and such a convinient stance, Auron's counter would be first to land, no matter what.

But Meats still had an ace up his sleeve. Shifting his left hand towards the pommel, and gripping the blade with his right - that would put it closer to the center of weight, granting a greater amount of control over his sword - he dashed towards Auron, leaving wide tracks in the puffy snow and breaking through the low-hanging branches; little more than 5 feet were left between them when Meats dropped his arms and pushed the blade's tip towards the dragon's stomach, denying him of sufficient leverage to bat Iginbo away with his own sword: parrying with the part above the crossguard simply wouldn't yeild enough energy. In his turn, Meats would have a modicum of control even in midst of an attack, able to quickly deflect a counter and then riposte with another stab. 

Impaling someone on a falchion was no hard feat for his strength, inhuman power pushing even its rounded tip deep into flesh. An inch at least, no joking matter. But truth be siad, that wasn't the demon's only goal.