Music, magic, and a loyal pup
By Paul Hunter
Some games don’t need dialogue to convey their message. Koira, the first release from Belgium’s Studio Tolima, tells a poignant story with minimalistic design and the help of Don’t Nod. It invites you to simply experience its world, encouraging you to listen, watch, and reflect.
You wake up alone in a hushed forest. There’s no voiceover, and no wayfinding markers to point the way. Soon, you find a trapped puppy, and something clicks—not just mechanically, but emotionally. That early choice to help the dog becomes the heart of everything that follows.
From that moment on, you’re not just surviving the forest, you’re caring for someone else in it. And even though the path ahead is simple, the journey feels meaningful. There's an unspoken trust that forms between you and your four-legged companion, and it carries through every puzzle, every hiding spot, and every quiet moment beneath the trees.
Studio Tolima clearly took inspiration from titles like Journey, Inside, and Limbo, but Koira carves out its own identity. It keeps things small, focused, and carefully paced, with just the right number of chapters to say what it needs to.
Is this silent, emotional journey a must-play indie title? Let's dive in and take a look!
You begin as a silent figure waking up in the woods. There’s no clear goal, no explanation. Just snow, shadow, and stillness. Before long, you find a puppy in need of help, and it's a moment of thoughtful decision-making. Once you choose to rescue it, that choice becomes the emotional spine of the journey ahead.
The world isn’t kind. The forest is cold and dark, littered with the signs of danger—broken branches, old traps, and hints of something worse hiding deeper in the trees. But with the puppy at your side, the silence becomes less empty. You walk, explore, and protect each other without a single word exchanged.
What stands out most about Koira’s narrative is how it never tells you what to think. Emotions are conveyed through glances, subtle movements, and music that swells or dims depending on what’s happening around you. The lack of dialogue never feels like a gimmick—it’s a choice that respects your ability to notice small things and fill in the blanks.
As the two of you travel, threats begin to appear. Hunters lurk in the shadows, and their dogs growl from a distance. Their presence pushes you forward and gives the world weight without pulling the focus away from the central bond.
Every moment between you and the puppy matters. Whether you’re playing together or hiding in fear, the connection grows. And by the time real danger arrives, you’ve built something worth fighting for. The final chapters push that idea harder, and not everything lands perfectly, but the overall arc stays grounded in its most important message: care can be gentle and still carry a lot of weight.
Koira has a light difficuly, but that's on purpose. You’ll guide your shadowy protagonist through the forest, solve small environmental puzzles, and avoid danger when it appears. It’s easy to follow, but it never feels shallow.
You spend a lot of time moving slowly through snowy paths or narrow caves, but the game breaks up the pace with short, meaningful interactions. Building a snowman, playing fetch, or sitting near a campfire becomes just as important as sneaking past a hunter. These moments aren’t required to win, but they strengthen the relationship at the heart of the journey. It’s not about points or achievements—it’s about time spent together.
One clever detail is how your pup isn’t just tagging along. He helps clear the darkness, responds to your movements, and acts independently during certain moments. Feeding him apples gives him enough energy to push away the creeping shadows, opening the path ahead. Sometimes he’ll run after rabbits or leap into trouble, forcing you to act fast. It’s all small stuff mechanically, but it creates a steady rhythm between exploration, care, and caution.
The game’s stealth sections are light but effective. Hiding from hunters or sneaking past their hounds never becomes frustrating. The DualSense vibration feedback in this game is pretty good—it subtly mirrors emotional beats. When your pup shivers or the wind blows hard, you feel it through your hands. It’s the kind of detail that works softly in the background, easing you more into the adventure.
Koira builds its entire mood on visuals and sound. Even without a single spoken word it communicates emotion with impressive clarity. The main character, a black silhouette with glowing white eyes, is constantly reacting—blinking, shivering, or turning toward the wind. These subtle animations carry a surprising amount of feeling, especially when paired with the dog’s more lively expressions.
The forest itself is simple but never bland. Layers of trees and hills move at different speeds, giving a clear sense of space without ever pulling focus from the foreground. Whether you're walking through a snow-covered ridge or resting beneath tall pines, the world feels alive—not because of sheer detail, but because of its careful use of shapes and movement. Light and shadow do most of the heavy lifting, shifting slowly to reflect time or mood changes. A glowing mist, a flickering campfire, or a patch of exposed roots, everything serves a purpose.
Sound is where the game truly shines. Wearing headphones is almost essential here. Ambient noise flows smoothly from one area to the next—crunching snow, distant wolves, snapping branches—each layered precisely. The score leans on piano and string melodies, used sparingly but to great effect. Even musical cues are connected to what’s happening in the moment. For example, low strings might follow a hunter’s footsteps, while a plucked harp gently plays when the dog bounds toward a butterfly.
An unexpected standout is the use of instruments to cue feedback. Instead of a flashing icon or loud beep, a small puzzle success might be marked by a soft chime or rising note. These touches feel natural, helping you stay focused without pulling you out of the experience. You’re guided by sound just as much as by sight.
Performance-wise, the game runs well. Load times are brief, transitions between areas are smooth, and I had no major bugs appear during my playthrough.
Koira doesn't chase realism. It builds atmosphere through restraint, using clean shapes, soft light, and thoughtful sound design. It’s soft, deliberate, and easy on the eyes—exactly what this kind of game needs.
Final Score: 8.5/10 - Great
Developer: Studio Tolima
Publisher: Don't Nod
Genre: Adventure
Modes: Single-player
A key was provided by the publisher.
By Paul Hunter
Some games don’t need dialogue to convey their message. Koira, the first release from Belgium’s Studio Tolima, tells a poignant story with minimalistic design and the help of Don’t Nod. It invites you to simply experience its world, encouraging you to listen, watch, and reflect.
You wake up alone in a hushed forest. There’s no voiceover, and no wayfinding markers to point the way. Soon, you find a trapped puppy, and something clicks—not just mechanically, but emotionally. That early choice to help the dog becomes the heart of everything that follows.
From that moment on, you’re not just surviving the forest, you’re caring for someone else in it. And even though the path ahead is simple, the journey feels meaningful. There's an unspoken trust that forms between you and your four-legged companion, and it carries through every puzzle, every hiding spot, and every quiet moment beneath the trees.
Studio Tolima clearly took inspiration from titles like Journey, Inside, and Limbo, but Koira carves out its own identity. It keeps things small, focused, and carefully paced, with just the right number of chapters to say what it needs to.
Is this silent, emotional journey a must-play indie title? Let's dive in and take a look!
You begin as a silent figure waking up in the woods. There’s no clear goal, no explanation. Just snow, shadow, and stillness. Before long, you find a puppy in need of help, and it's a moment of thoughtful decision-making. Once you choose to rescue it, that choice becomes the emotional spine of the journey ahead.
The world isn’t kind. The forest is cold and dark, littered with the signs of danger—broken branches, old traps, and hints of something worse hiding deeper in the trees. But with the puppy at your side, the silence becomes less empty. You walk, explore, and protect each other without a single word exchanged.
What stands out most about Koira’s narrative is how it never tells you what to think. Emotions are conveyed through glances, subtle movements, and music that swells or dims depending on what’s happening around you. The lack of dialogue never feels like a gimmick—it’s a choice that respects your ability to notice small things and fill in the blanks.
As the two of you travel, threats begin to appear. Hunters lurk in the shadows, and their dogs growl from a distance. Their presence pushes you forward and gives the world weight without pulling the focus away from the central bond.
Every moment between you and the puppy matters. Whether you’re playing together or hiding in fear, the connection grows. And by the time real danger arrives, you’ve built something worth fighting for. The final chapters push that idea harder, and not everything lands perfectly, but the overall arc stays grounded in its most important message: care can be gentle and still carry a lot of weight.
Koira has a light difficuly, but that's on purpose. You’ll guide your shadowy protagonist through the forest, solve small environmental puzzles, and avoid danger when it appears. It’s easy to follow, but it never feels shallow.
You spend a lot of time moving slowly through snowy paths or narrow caves, but the game breaks up the pace with short, meaningful interactions. Building a snowman, playing fetch, or sitting near a campfire becomes just as important as sneaking past a hunter. These moments aren’t required to win, but they strengthen the relationship at the heart of the journey. It’s not about points or achievements—it’s about time spent together.
One clever detail is how your pup isn’t just tagging along. He helps clear the darkness, responds to your movements, and acts independently during certain moments. Feeding him apples gives him enough energy to push away the creeping shadows, opening the path ahead. Sometimes he’ll run after rabbits or leap into trouble, forcing you to act fast. It’s all small stuff mechanically, but it creates a steady rhythm between exploration, care, and caution.
The game’s stealth sections are light but effective. Hiding from hunters or sneaking past their hounds never becomes frustrating. The DualSense vibration feedback in this game is pretty good—it subtly mirrors emotional beats. When your pup shivers or the wind blows hard, you feel it through your hands. It’s the kind of detail that works softly in the background, easing you more into the adventure.
Koira builds its entire mood on visuals and sound. Even without a single spoken word it communicates emotion with impressive clarity. The main character, a black silhouette with glowing white eyes, is constantly reacting—blinking, shivering, or turning toward the wind. These subtle animations carry a surprising amount of feeling, especially when paired with the dog’s more lively expressions.
The forest itself is simple but never bland. Layers of trees and hills move at different speeds, giving a clear sense of space without ever pulling focus from the foreground. Whether you're walking through a snow-covered ridge or resting beneath tall pines, the world feels alive—not because of sheer detail, but because of its careful use of shapes and movement. Light and shadow do most of the heavy lifting, shifting slowly to reflect time or mood changes. A glowing mist, a flickering campfire, or a patch of exposed roots, everything serves a purpose.
Sound is where the game truly shines. Wearing headphones is almost essential here. Ambient noise flows smoothly from one area to the next—crunching snow, distant wolves, snapping branches—each layered precisely. The score leans on piano and string melodies, used sparingly but to great effect. Even musical cues are connected to what’s happening in the moment. For example, low strings might follow a hunter’s footsteps, while a plucked harp gently plays when the dog bounds toward a butterfly.
An unexpected standout is the use of instruments to cue feedback. Instead of a flashing icon or loud beep, a small puzzle success might be marked by a soft chime or rising note. These touches feel natural, helping you stay focused without pulling you out of the experience. You’re guided by sound just as much as by sight.
Performance-wise, the game runs well. Load times are brief, transitions between areas are smooth, and I had no major bugs appear during my playthrough.
Koira doesn't chase realism. It builds atmosphere through restraint, using clean shapes, soft light, and thoughtful sound design. It’s soft, deliberate, and easy on the eyes—exactly what this kind of game needs.
The Verdict
Koira delivers a gentle, focused experience built around emotion, atmosphere, and a growing bond between you and a loyal companion. Its story unfolds without text, relying on animation, sound, and simple interactions to carry meaning. The gameplay stays minimal by design, complementing the game’s emotional rhythm rather than distracting from it. Visually and aurally, it’s subtle but expressive, with clever details that add personality without ever shouting for attention. While it lacks extra content like unlockables or a platinum trophy, it offers something more lasting—a thoughtful journey that stays with you long after it ends.Final Score: 8.5/10 - Great
Koira details
Platform: PS5, PCDeveloper: Studio Tolima
Publisher: Don't Nod
Genre: Adventure
Modes: Single-player
A key was provided by the publisher.