Bodyslams huntman

River Shoulders had me covered. Even as the creature’s spear tracked toward me, the Sasquatch simply took a bounding stride, lowered a shoulder the size of an off-road tire, and ran into the thing.
If the creature had been standing in front of a train, it might have been better off. About half a ton of supernaturally powerful muscle hit the creature in a concentrated burst of precisely aimed energy as focused and directed as that of any martial artist. The creature’s body went rag doll, flying back from the impact in an explosive crackling of breaking bone—only to hit against a large old oak standing stolidly in the house’s front yard despite severe trimming to allow for power lines.
The shape that fell to the ground at the base of the tree was kind of . . . amorphous.

Battle Ground Chapter 9, Page 86