You've been restrained...You stumbled upon this land one way or another and was promptly tied up.

Dim lights, candles scattered across the room of which you assume is the hall where everything goes on. It looked unnaturally empty. Uncanny.

You hear a soft pitter patter of someone approaching, all you can see is a sliver of light from a candelabra. It gets closer, closer until you see an outline of a cookie. But this is no ordinary cookie. You could make out wings, fluttering even when they weren't flying. They bring the candelabra closer to their face, showing a pale dough with their eyecing covered by their face.

They approached you, gracefully and elegantly. They smiled softly despite this situation. “Welcome, little cookie, to Our humble abode of the St. Pastries order. We apologize for the binds, it is necessary to confirm you have no ulterior motives.*

"We,” They pause. "are Doughael. Known as Our eminence.”

"And you are?"