With a heavy "[i][b]thwang![/i][/b]" Iginbo crashed into Auron's sword, nearly breaking through the hastily put up defense. Feet buried in the snow up to the ankle, body tensed and twisted, Meats prepared to carry on with his onslaught and exploit the opening, when he was met a trick none less keen than his own. Skilled enough to similtaneously block and kick his assailant in the gut, this dragonkin were quite the tough nut. 

Auron's foot hit hard, but it was met with some of equal might. The constructors of Meats' physical shell knew that he would have no need for any internal organs, so the hollows were filled up with a tremendous amount of muscle, and when he flexed his abdomen, it become solid as a brick wall. And that was exactly what Meats met the dragon's kick with - hopefuly, it would break him a few bones.
Unfortunately, even with such badassery involved, there was still one thing left to consider: this kick lifed his petty 70 kg up into the air and threw him a good half a dozen feet away from Auron. Sure, he had managed to land on his feet and keep his grip on the sword, but now the guy was out of his reach. Meats cussed to himself - losing such a great opportunity angered him - and sheltered himself underneath one of the pines. Changing his approach, the demon would wait for Auron to strike first, and here, the dark green of his armor would blend nicely with both the shadows and the pine itself. Now, instead of the Ox stance, he chose the Plow, right foot leading, his grip left just as it was.