Chris gave John the secret hand signal that meant, "Take what you can and let's scram!" but John was too stunned to move. Chris was out the door with a fraction of the loot, assuming John was behind him, before John's brain even noticed. It was too late now. The witch had him corned up against an old cheap shelf, holding her wand in front of her.
"I, I t-t-t-told him we shouldn't d-do it," John stammered. "You heard me, I t-told him should leave. But you, I mean, you know how he is, I mean..."
"Such a weak and cowardly creature," said the witch. "You deserve a more fitting form, and a more useful one."
A bright light erupted out of the wand and blasted into the spot where the boy stood. It blew apart the shelf into pieces, wood landed in various parts of the room, and a loud squawk rang out.
It wasn't like when Damon turned into a goose. This was an instant change. John was standing there shivering as a human one instant, then something exploded, and immediately he found himself closer to floor, contorted into a shape that he could sense but not yet understand.
First John noticed that even though the light had cleared, he still could not see normally. It took him a moment to adjust, but soon he decided that somehow he could actually see better than before. He had about a three hundred degree field of vision now, so he could easily see the goose, the witch, the scattered wooden shards throughout the room, and much of the wall behind him. The colors of his surroundings were so different he couldn't have begun to describe it even if he could still talk. It would have been like trying to describe roses to a culture that had never seen plants. He didn't know about UV rays, but he could see them now and had four primary colors. He soon discovered that he didn't stop seeing when he blinked: he seemed to have a third eyelid that was clear.
He tried out his new legs, which looked like Damon's but with longer claws and much less webbing. He could walk forward, if he didn't think too much about how it looked like he was bending his legs backwards. He tried to look his hands, but he heard the ruffle of his feathers and found himself flapping a pair of wings instead. The witch came over and picked him up, set him on the table, and conjured up a second cage.
"Well, mister robber, we are going to be spending quite some time together," said the witch. "Your eggs will not be golden, but they will certainly be tasty for breakfast."
He felt some round bulges churning around within him, and he clucked nervously at the implications. Damon sat down in his cage as all the action started to die down.