The ploy worked better than expected, concealing him whole, as if he were never here. Meats merely wanted to throw off his opoonent's aim, but the sprawling branches and sharp contrast between glistening snow and cold shadow had yeilded together a far greater result. He could probably finish this fight this very moment, first pouncing from his cover to cripple Auron's unprotected legs and then finishing him off with a brutal strike to the head. But even if he fancied mischief and witty tricks, that didn't mean he'd like to deviate from the honorous clash of swords. No, he liked a good challenge, tipping the oods in his favor only when it wouldn't break the battle's flow. That was why he revealed himself, pushing aside the heavy branch above with his sword, letting whatever small amounts of sun that pierced through the foilage light up his silvery mask. 

Upon being noticed, he would wait for a while, tempting Auron into attacking first. Not a single muscle would move, Meats standing still and quiet, as if mocking the dragonkin for demanding his opponent to show. Not keen on waiting long though, Meats had a plan in case if Auron wouldn't show any initiative. Now, that he were out of hiding, a strike to the legs wouldn't pay no more, the chance of being met by a counter too high. Instead, taking on a bull rush approach, he would try to smack the Dragon claw aside and body slam Auron in the chest.

As for now, he stood, dull sunlight cutting just his broad shoulders and silvery mask out of the bluish shadow.