Herdling Review: More Than a Herd, It’s a Family

Some games fight for your attention with flashy combat, deep crafting systems, or sprawling open worlds. Herdling does the opposite. It whispers. It hands you a few woolly, wide-eyed creatures and asks, without a single word: Will you look after them? By the time the credits rolled, I had my answer, and it hit harder than I expected.

A Wordless Start That Sets the Tone

The opening doesn’t bother with dialogue or lore dumps. You begin beneath a cracked overpass surrounded by concrete and silence. Then you find your first Calicorn a shaggy, horned little thing that feels part goat, part plush toy. It follows you hesitantly, and before you know it, you’re responsible for its survival. There’s no fanfare. No tutorial prompt screams at you to “PROTECT YOUR HERD.” You just learn by doing. That understated approach defines the whole experience.

Gameplay Built on Guidance, Not Domination

At first glance, the mechanics are simple: walk, nudge, whistle, and guide your herd through crumbling cities and untamed wilderness. But it’s not about “controlling” them, it’s about persuading. Calicorns don’t snap to your commands like trained soldiers. They wander, hesitate, and sometimes ignore you entirely. That can be frustrating in the first hour. I wanted precision, but the game kept reminding me: these aren’t units in a strategy grid. They’re living things. Each one has quirks, and learning those quirks changes how you play. It’s a subtle but brilliant trick. You start thinking less like a player pushing buttons and more like a caretaker, figuring out how to keep a small, unpredictable family together.

Bonds That Sneak Up on You

Naming your Calicorns is optional. Feeding them and decorating them is optional, too. But I’ll be honest, I caved immediately. Suddenly, I wasn’t escorting “some creatures.” I was guiding Rookie, Goofy, and Yuki. When Yuki, my smallest and slowest, lagged behind, I couldn’t just leave him. I waited. Every time. That’s how Herdling gets under your skin. The repetition, some critics complain about the steady rhythm of walking, nudging, and regrouping, becomes the canvas where attachment builds. By the time my herd grew, I wasn’t playing for myself anymore. I was playing to keep them safe.

A Painter’s Touch in Every Frame

Visually, Herdling feels like a series of moving illustrations. The ruined urban zones are muted and heavy, while the wilderness bursts with color once you escape the city’s shadow. Okomotive knows how to make landscapes feel alive without overloading them with detail. And then there’s the music. It doesn’t just sit in the background; it breathes with you. Quiet strings swell as the herd gathers, drums slip in when danger looms, and soft melodies cradle you during calm stretches. The transitions are seamless, making even a ten-minute walk feel emotionally charged.

Storytelling Without Words

There’s no narrator, no text, no cutscene explaining why the world is broken or why Calicorns matter. That might sound like a gap, but it’s actually the game’s greatest strength. The story is told through your actions: finding food, shielding your herd, pushing them toward light when everything around you feels gray. That silence leaves space for you to project. For me, the Calicorns became a metaphor for vulnerability in harsh environments. For someone els,e it might represent family, friendship, or even hope. The lack of explicit detail makes the experience universal.

Short, But Potent

Let’s get one thing clear: this isn’t a long game. My first run ended after about three hours. Even if you chase every collectible, you’re not breaking double digits. For players who equate “value” with “hours played,” that could sting. But here’s the truth: Herdling isn’t built to stretch itself. Its short length is part of its punch. It’s like a novella: brief, concentrated, and more impactful because it knows exactly when to stop.

Real Talk

If you’re hunting for adrenaline, Herdling won’t scratch that itch. There are no boss fights, no skill trees, no leaderboard climbs. It’s slow, contemplative, and fragile. But if you’re open to games that feel more like journeys than challenges, this is one to treasure. Fans of Journey, Abzû, or Gris will feel at home. So will anyone who craves something meditative after a week of high-intensity shooters.

FINAL SCORE: 80/10