Helplessly hoping, her harlequin hovers nearby, awaiting a word. Gasping at glimpses of gentle true spirit, he runs, wishing he could fly, only to trip at the sound of good-bye.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2412 | 2020-11-01 01:07:12 | 68.68 | 99% |
| 2214 | 2020-09-19 02:04:02 | 60.05 | 96% |