Paperbark

I have a soft spot for games that know precisely what they are and refuse to be anything else, and Paperbark sits near the top of that list. It started as a final-year project at RMIT by three students who grew up in regional Victoria, and that origin story is written into every pixel: the dusty pinks, the muted eucalypt greens, the paperbark tree detail that only someone who has actually leaned against one would think to paint. The team even hired an ecologist to verify that every plant and animal in the game is genuinely native to the Victorian bush. That level of care shows. Mechanically, calling this a game requires a generous definition. You point and click to guide your wombat across a top-down landscape, and as you move, the world literally paints itself in around you in watercolour washes. Each of the six short chapters layers in a new environment: dry creek beds, thickets of wild grass, a genuinely tense bushfire sequence that arrives without warning and changes the emotional register completely. Hidden insects are scattered throughout most chapters, tucked into the scenery in a low-key hidden-object style, and collecting them populates a sticker library. There is also a Steam achievement for finishing the story in under 18 minutes, which you might hit accidentally if you walk at a brisk pace and skip the collectibles. That runtime is real: most players clear the main path in under an hour, with completionists pushing two hours if they hunt every bug. The thing that earns Paperbark its 89% positive rating on Steam is not the interactivity but the atmosphere. The development team recorded actual field audio in the Victorian wilderness, kookaburras, frog croaks, insect drones, the dry shuffle of a wombat moving through scrub, and layered it under an original string soundtrack composed by Biddy Conner. Played through headphones in a quiet room, the soundscape is genuinely transporting in a way that larger-budget walking sims rarely manage. The voice narration, written by children's book author Renee Treml and narrated by Georgia Maq, keeps things spare and unsentimentally honest about what summer in the bush actually means for the animals who live in it. The honest negatives are real and worth naming. Interaction is minimal to the point of transparency: you are mostly just clicking where you want the wombat to amble. Some players have reported a glitching background that flashes during certain scenes, noticeable enough that streamers flagged it as a potential photosensitivity concern. Movement feels slightly sluggish, the wombat pausing to orient itself before walking, which reads as authentic animal behaviour to some and as annoying input lag to others. And the length, however intentional, will feel like a problem to anyone used to getting ten hours from a casual indie pick-up. Paperbark does not apologise for any of this, and I respect that, but you should know before you click purchase. Who is this for? Anyone who has had a rough week and wants something that asks nothing back. Parents looking for a family-friendly shared screen moment with genuinely educational flora and fauna detail. Lovers of Australian children's books, picture-book art, or the particular mood of a hot, still afternoon under gum trees. It is not for players who need a feedback loop, a skill ceiling, or more than a gentle narrative thread to stay engaged. Paperbark knows when to end, and it ends well. That is rarer than it sounds.

Kai · Scout Team

Indie & narrative

Be the first to comment on Paperbark.