Both run entirely in your browser and load in a blink. There's no leaderboard chasing you — the only score is the one you keep for yourself.
The classic fifteen-tile slide, smoothed out for a thumb. Nudge the stones one space at a time until the numbers run quietly back into order.
A small grid of glowing lights. Tap one and it flips itself and its neighbours. Work out the order, and switch the whole pond into darkness.
Open the page and you're already playing. No app store, no updates, no extra megabytes on your phone.
There's nothing to sign up for and nothing to buy. Your moves and best times stay on your own device, never on a server.
We design for a thumb first. Big, friendly targets and gentle animation, whether you're on a phone, tablet or laptop.
There are only the two of us, so things move at a market-stall pace. Here's what shipped recently and what's part-built on the table right now.
Our second puzzle. We spent two weekends just on how the lights fade out — it had to feel like a pond going quiet at dusk, not a switch clicking off.
The board felt cramped on small phones, so we widened the stones and softened the corners. Much friendlier under a thumb now.
We launched with one game, Riverstones, and the daft otter mascot Davit doodled on a napkin. Thank you for stopping by this early.
We're sketching a tiny nonogram — fill the grid from the numbers to reveal a little creature. Still on graph paper, but it's coming.
For three years Marisol ran a folding-table stall of secondhand puzzles and dog-eared board games at the Saturday flea market; Davit had the coffee cart two pitches down and kept wandering over to argue about sliding-puzzle strategy. When the market closed for redevelopment, we didn't want the little games to disappear with it — so we started rebuilding our favourites as browser tabs instead.
Everything is paid for out of our own pockets, so we answer to nobody but the people who play. We rebuild a game when we miss it, give it a calm coat of paint, and quietly put it online. Read the longer story →