Silt offers underwater horrors worthy of Searle and Scarfe
Silt is one of those great Robert MacFarlane words. I want to lift it to my ear in a quiet room and close my eyes, so I can hear those sands shifting, tiny rocks brushing one against another. There’s beauty to it – deep time and nature’s endless grinding patience. But there’s horror in that very patience: this world will take a billion gentle years to bury you completely.
Silt seems aware of this – the horror and beauty of certain words, the poetry of them. This is an adventure that starts with a poem – in short, there are beasts out there under the waves and you need to collect their eyes – but the second time I played through, I wondered: poem or incantation? Is there a difference? Just what is being summoned here?
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