On one hand Chicory is possibly the best 2D Zelda game ever made. The paintbrush is such a cool concept to design little mini-dungeons around, and the expanding move-set and list of mechanics play with this idea beautifully and make for some simple but enjoyable puzzles and some pleasing tests of whether you understand your environment. These parts of the game are modest, joyful and fun, are thankfully free of any combat, and when they do culminate in boss fights these make for emotionally intense audio-visually spectacular highlights.

On the other hand Chicory is such a charming, genuinely thoughtful little game. It has a lot of things to say about the process of making art, a lot of different perspectives to share and investigate regarding inspiration, motivation and how to take healthy attitudes towards your artistry and treat yourself with kindness. The game handles all of this so tenderly that I ended up tearing up at a few points, especially during one particular side-quest that explored the frustrations artists can go through trying to get their art seen, measuring themselves against others, and feeling pressure to become known and how those frustrations can lead to losing track of why they loved making art in the first place. More than anything Chicory just wants, for a moment, to get you excited to be creative, and to help you find enjoyment in making messy and imperfect (the way the brush works feels like it has been designed precisely to make sure you can't be a perfectionist) art.

I love these quiet little towns, each with their own little identities, each with a collection of silly little animals all with just enough personality that you'll recognise them as they migrate around the map. The vibes are often very comfy, aided by the lovely musical score, so much so that when the game veers into darker or more disconcerting territory it genuinely got under my skin. I also adore this game's attitude towards how you engage with it; you can hand-paint every single screen if you want, or ignore that completely and make a beeline through the story, the rewards for completing side-content are (with one minor quality-of-life exception) only ever aesthetic in nature meaning there's no mechanical pressure to complete them and it's just a case of whether you want to do so, and there's no visual counter pointing out how many more collectibles there are to go find. You are simply presented with the tools to play with, the space to play within, and are allowed to engage with that to whatever extent you wish; this might not be a lot to ask for, but in a world where so many modern games bombard you with quest lists, daily challenges and collection completion trackers it's such a relief to play a game with such a plethora of side-content that doesn't feel the need to pressure you into doing any of it.

Of note, as someone who generally prefers controllers I strongly recommend playing this game with a mouse-and-keyboard instead of a controller if possible due to the nature of painting in-game. I was lucky enough to get to go one step further thanks to owning a drawing tablet, making for one of the most enjoyable experiences I've ever had in regards to controlling a game, and whilst I can enthusiastically recommend this way to experience the game it is hardly necessary.

Just a lovely little game, through-and-through, overflowing with heart.