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the lungs, something that witches and wizards have, something the cookies do not yet they still move their chest up and down, creating an illusion of breathing, as if inhaling.
The papers were strewn around, any cookie or witch would have a hard time finding the exact piece of information that they seek, what is to be knowledgeable? what is to be knowledge? that question relies on bias, which is a finicky and untrustworthy thing when it comes to research, a question that can always yet never be answered.
lungs are a part of a system called the respiratory system that is found in humans, witches and wizards.
veins, veins, veins. are an high importance to the entirety of the body, helping to move nutrients around into the correct places, they help with pumping deoxygenized blood into the heart, deoxygenized blood is also impotent for the lungs to replace with oxygenated blood every time an inhale is committed.
the body is wired throughout, commonly referred to as 'a machine that need maintenance', the cookie body needs jellies and sugars to be able to run, while a wizards body will need varying nutrients that are not the same as a cookies, sugars are a needed supplement however its to a far lesser extreme compared to cookies, they commonly need meats, greens and more in their body, sodium, vitamins, the body of a witch needs sunlight, which has many times not been shown with the descriptions of witches, commonly shown in a dark location with only the oven basking them in light.
witches and wizards lives do not involve cookies that much, yes many has baked and created them however alike a baker, they do do other things than just baking, they have their own sense of individuality, some do not care for cookies, while others do, some care to just eat them whilst others care for them as an individuality in their lives.
witches have created cookies for their friends and some cookies are created as a vessel for themselves.
in desperation sometimes, they care for their friends so much that they create a new life for them, as a cookie.
'you never stay on track' was written on the paper by the hand that belonged to themselves, Shadow Milk Cookie metaphorically sighed to themselves, turning to something else, the fount found was found to be to be in front of a fountain, a common place yet not as personal than a well, odd clicking is heard as the fount moved, illusions going between the vast differing cookies, none noticing any physical differences from one another, only odd clicking which sets them on the move to make space without even knowing why.
'to know is to be', to know, to be, such a vast extension of being that its difficult to figure out to its fullest extent, its people perspective is that of being aware that they'll never truly know what the place looks like, only that its models after their own bias and what they choose to seek.
knowledge hurts.
maybe that is why they chose to believe that the fount has corrupted.