River Whisker

A desktop companion game for the corner of your screen: a hand-painted riverbank, an angler, and nine cats who get to know you, little by little.



While you're busy, there's a small riverbank in a corner of your screen, and someone sitting on it, quietly keeping you company as you work.
When you're tired and look up, the water is flowing, doves lift from the bell tower, and a distant bell rings the hour.
One by one, the fish go into the basket, and cats begin to come by.

Nine cats who get to know you

"They sat by my chair, a hand's span from my shoe, so I cast with my arm a little lower."
Six cats come by the basket for fish, each with their own temper and favourite fish. One usually sits down to wash their face after eating; one sleeps so deeply that a landed fish often doesn't wake them.
Three more come only in special weather. The rainy-day one wears a green cloak and carries a gourd; who comes in the snow or the heat is yours to find out.
When your hand rests on a friend, they lean toward you. The name you give is the one they keep, and every first time they eat, nap or sit by the stove is kept on their page of moments.

Nothing to look after

No one goes hungry or falls ill, there are no daily chores, and a cat who knows you never forgets you.
While you're away, the bank carries on; when you come back, the journal tells you who came by and who slept a while in the grass. A first meeting waits until you're back.
No gacha, no real-money purchases, and no cat is ever bought or sold.

Your hours, tonight's moon

The light follows your computer's clock: mist in the morning, windows lighting up one by one at dusk. The church bell strikes the hour from 7 am to 10 pm and keeps quiet at night.

The moon at night is the same one outside your window; rain, snow and hot days are the riverbank's own weather.
A glimpse behind the scenes: the riverbank, coming together bit by bit.

Quiet in its corner

Bottom-left or bottom-right, on whichever screen you like. Three sizes; it can stay always on top, or fade while the mouse is elsewhere.
When you want a clear screen, it tucks into the tray, and one click brings it back. In the corner it draws fewer frames, so it asks less of your computer.
To see the cats up close, a click on the tent unrolls the whole painting.

Fishing, if you feel like it

The angler fishes on their own. When the float dips, you can reel in yourself; a ★ fresh fish is the cats' favourite.
After a meal, a cat leaves a few coins behind.
A yellow catfish, brought up out of the water, gives a soft little croak.

Little things the cats use

The cats' coins buy a cushion, a pot of wildflowers, a little tea stove. Cats rest on the cushion and warm themselves by the stove; with plants out, they come by a little more often.
A cardboard box for a cat to hop into and doze in, chin on the rim, and a flat stone to nap on.
On rainy days, a cat may curl up in the dry patch under the oil-paper umbrella; in the heat, one stretches out on the bamboo mat. After a sniff of catnip, some cats roll over right where they are, and when a butterfly drifts close, a cat may crouch low and watch it for a long while.
The water's edge comes alive too: a kingfisher lands on the tip of the propped pole, a pair of wild ducks doze beside the raft, and at dusk or in the rain a frog hops up onto the lotus leaves.



To be clear
Nine cats, twenty kinds of fish, three rods, seventeen pieces of decor (and three more the river brings), and seventy-five first moments to come across, little by little. It's a quiet companion, not a management game: nothing to run, and no numbers to chase.

FAQ

• Does the riverbank follow my weather? Rain and snow are the riverbank's own; the light follows your clock, and the moon follows the real calendar.