Brunante

Brunante is the low, uncertain light just after the sun goes down, before
the dark comes. It is the hour this game is about: the walk back, the
last of the warmth, the window you can see from a long way off.

You wake on a shore with a knife and nothing else. There is no tutorial
and nothing tells you what to do. You gather what is lying about, you put
up something to sleep under, and you make it better — a lean-to becomes a
hut becomes a cabin, or a turf house, or a hall long enough to keep four
animals at one end. Ten kinds of shelter, and each is better at something
the others are not.

Play it to grind or play it to sit in the woods. Both are the game.

WHAT IS OUT THERE
A world of sixteen million tiles, generated as you walk into it, with
rivers you wade, caves that go deeper than they look, abandoned villages,
wrecks, a watchtower that charts the country for miles, and a quarry
worth nothing at all until you have made a pick.

WHAT YOU CAN DO
Fish sixteen species, and pull relics out of the lake on a magnet. Hunt,
cook, farm, tan hide, fire brick, burn charcoal. Tame one animal — one,
because a relationship you have four of is a stable. Plant a garden that
grows on the real calendar. Build a road of cairns and travel it.

THE YEAR TURNS
Four seasons that change what grows, what bites, what you can catch and
how fast the cold takes you. The broadleaves go gold and then bare while
the spruce stays green. The sheltered shallows freeze and the rivers do
not. Winter takes the ponds away and hands you the ground they stood on.

SOMEBODY WAS HERE FIRST
Four people lived on this water before you, and two more watched from the
far shore. You find their papers a page at a time, out of order, and the
game puts them back in the order they were written. The two households do
not agree about why the place emptied, and nothing ever settles it. There
are no people left to meet. That is the point.

AND YOU KEEP A BOOK
The game writes your run down as you live it — the first frost, the boar
that came for you, the hundredth day — and you can share the page.

MADE FOR A PHONE
One hand, one thumb. No timers, no energy bar, no waiting for a building
to finish while you are not playing.

BUY IT ONCE. THAT IS THE WHOLE TRANSACTION.
No ads, no in-app purchases, no subscription, no account, no internet.
Not "no ads for now" — there is no advertising code in it, nothing is for
sale inside it, and it never makes a network connection of any kind. It
works in a tent, on a plane, in the woods. Your save lives on your phone
and nowhere else, and you can copy it out yourself whenever you like.

EN FRANÇAIS D'ICI
Le jeu se joue au complet en français québécois — pas une traduction de
France. La brunante, la corde de bois, la cabane à sucre, le collet, la
carriole. Ça se choisit dès la première ouverture.

Three difficulty modes, including one where the cold is weather rather
than a threat and nothing is ever taken from you.