John turned and stared at the figure blocking his view of the moon with wide-eyed horror. It appeared to be an anthro wolf, wearing dark robes and holding some kind of canister. He realized, to his horror, that it was a Caretaker, out looking in the middle of the night for any members of the other factions that might have gone off on their own. In it's paws it held some kind of gun with a glass bottle on the back, which was filled with some kind of blue gas.
That was all the info John needed. He turned and began running in the opposite direction, hearing the wolf cry out in frustration and begin chasing him. He ran between trees, jumped over a stream or two, and climbed over some rocks. At some point he looked behind himself and found, to his surprise, that the wolf was no longer chasing him. Maybe he had gotten away? But his train of thought was interrupted by him smacking into something and falling to the forest floor.
Looking up, he saw the wolf smiling triumphantly and pointing the gun towards his head. John screamed and jumped to his feet, barely dodging a blast of the spray. He dodged to the left, but the wolf took this opportunity to blow a huge cloud of the gas into John's face. He screamed and rubbed his eyes, and that's when the changes started.
It all happened in less than a minute. John's legs began to wobble and he felt very weak. He was tottering now, waving his arms, doing everything in his power to remain upright, it did no good. He fell to his butt on the forest floor and looked up at the wolf, who was smiling as he began to shrink down to the size of an infant. As he did, his rapidly simplifying mind giggled at the warm, ticklish feeling of white and black fur sweeping over his body in a wave. His clothes swallowed him up as he shrunk and shrunk, hands and feet swelling, toes and fingers merging into thick, chubby paw hands and feet. He felt his ears move to the side of his head and become triangular, as his face pushed out into a puppyish muzzle and his forehead slanting back, his eyes turning deep blue. Whiskers grew out of the side of his face as the rest of his black-and-white striped fur grew in. His whole body swelled out with baby fat and a long, thick tail grew out of his small rear as he stopped shrinking.
Crawling out of the bundle of clothes, the new infant white tiger gurgled and cooed in confusion as the rest of John's memories were wiped away, leaving a completely blank slate behind. The wolf smiled and picked the tiger, up remembering being told that he had once been one of the filthy human rebels. As the infant purred and flicked it's tail, looking around in wide-eyed wonder, the wolf was ready to teach it the way of the Caretakers.