As the name implies, Farewell North is a game about saying goodbye--to a place, to people, and to the lifestyle that those things represent. Though the narrative adventure is short, it packs a lot of characterization and resonance into that time, with only occasional stumbling blocks to blunt the impact of the experience.
You play as Chesley, or Ches for short: a sweet-natured border collie who had once worked as a sheepdog on a farm in the Scottish highlands. Your human companion, a young woman named Cailey, ventured off her family farm and into the city but was summoned back when her rural mother became ill. Cailey helped with the farm for a while, relying on Ches' herding skills, and then when her mother passed away, they moved back to the city together, where Ches became a homebound pet rather than a working dog. This game captures what seems to be Cailey's first time coming back to the area since then.
On one level, this is a game about loss, and how it manifests in different ways. Cailey lost her mother, and as you explore the Scottish highlands with her, you get bittersweet reflections about her farm life and how it felt to slowly lose her mother to a terminal illness. Though it's less pointed, you also get the sense that Ches lost her home when she became a city dog, so this return to the highlands is a reunion of sorts.
That sense of coming back home is what makes a lot of the moment-to-moment gameplay feel light and joyful, even when it's touching on very serious subject matter. Ches is obviously thrilled to be back in the wild with the freedom to explore wide open fields, herd sheep, and generally commune with nature. Likewise, Cailey is reflecting on both moments of sadness and joy with her mother, the land, and Ches.
The core of the experience is solving a series of environmental puzzles, though these are as light and airy as the environment itself. The puzzles aren't especially mentally taxing, which usually gives the whole affair a relaxing feel that lets you focus squarely on the narrative.
I say usually, though, because while it does have a calm, relaxed feel when everything is working properly, I did occasionally run into a situation where it wasn't entirely clear what to do. Often puzzles come down to crossing under a downed tree or other similar piece of nature that will change the environment in some subtle way, and if you happen to miss one of these, you're liable to be very confused about the path forward. At one point I was stuck for quite a while, and when I finally did discover the way, I wasn't entirely sure what I had been doing wrong before. I just stumbled my way into it, blissfully unaware.
This is partly due to the visuals, which are mostly presented with a muted gray color palette that becomes colorful in key moments and as a response to certain gameplay segments--for example, the area just around a herd of sheep will be colorful, which makes them stand out from the background. This is important for illustrating the central concept: that Ches' time with Cailey is restoring color and joy to their world, but it can also sometimes make the environment hard to read.
For that reason, the game is at its best when the puzzles take a back seat and the game instead relishes in the views of nature, like an early moment when the music crescendos as Ches runs through a field that has had its color restored. It also excels at abstracting the environment in key moments to show you the world through a dog's eyes, like the streaks of traffic lights making an impassable wall, or a sea of intimidating, faceless strangers who appear to be trying to snatch you, but who are actually Cailey's friends and community helping to look for you.
Farewell North is a grounded, slice-of-life game given some fantastical elements through Ches' unique perspective. As it reaches its emotional climax, it becomes a stirring meditation on the role pets play in their humans' lives as comfort and support, and likewise, the role that humans play in the lives of their pets as providers and protectors. While its waypointing can be occasionally frustrating, it's a sweet, emotionally resonant experience that will stick with you, and maybe prompt a little extra cuddle time with your own pets.